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#im still not over my green boy bullshit

that-one-random-writer · 1 year

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Chasing you Chapter 1 {Complete}

Summary: Jake retires from the military honorably. He steps into a new roll, ready to settle down in his hometown of Texas. He is placed on your shift. Your current relationship is stable until the dust settles, revealing cracks in the foundation.

Warnings: Cursing, violence, police experiences based on truth, accurate on most accounts of law enforcement, it might get gory at times. Be aware of blood, drugs, and all things law enforcement. Smut eventually. A/N may have my true experience attached if you're interested. All real names redacted. Y/n used once.

Next chapter || Masterlist

Whispers went around the department. There was a new guy starting today. The women in the office were saying he was fine as hell, and the men were saying he was just a pretty boy who thought he could handle this.

You sat back in your seat. You texted James, your boyfriend. 'Can you get milk and eggs on your way home? We're out.' James agreed with a thumbs up emoji.

You had just started your shift. It was opposite to your boyfriends now. You were on the night shift, twelve hours of complete bullshit. The dark night hid some of the worst people. The FNG, fucking new guy, didn't know what he was getting himself into.

On queue, the FNG walked into the squad room. He sat in the squad room next to Grant, the corporal that had been there for a while now. Everyone quieted down, looking at the new guy. "What's up, man? How'd you like that OC spray?" Grant had been the first to speak up. He volunteered some at the law enforcement academy, and he was supervising the pepper spray training to make sure no one got injured. You swore up and down, and the man just enjoyed them withering in pain.

"Man, fuck that shit. I took a shower that night, and it started back up." The gorgeous man chuckled. Clapping his hand to grants in a shake. He leaned back in his seat.

You remember the OC spray. You've used it a small handful of times. You opted for the taser more often. Electric currents were much less likely to blow back onto you. The spray had thirty seconds of calm, then the fire would set in burning your eyes, nose, mouth, throat, neck, anything it came in contact with would be in a constant state of hell burning through your soul. Water tended to reactivate it after it wore off. There was a twenty-four period of chance it would reactivate, dragging you through hell all over again. You'd rather have your toenails ripped off than ever go through that again.

All the men in the room laughed at the man's misfortune. "Yeah the sadistic fucks don't warn you about the water..." Rastley, a fellow officer, chimed in.

Everyone settled into their seats as the sergeant walked in. "Im sure everyone has noticed the new officer on duty." He paused, pulling out papers that were for the new payroll. He passed them around the room for everyone to fill out. "This is Seresin. Jacob is your first name, right, and your badge number?" Sergeant Valley looked up at Seresin. "Just Jake, sir. Number 267"

Sgt. Valley nodded and looked back around the room. "Jake Seresin 267." He wrote down the new information on a notebook page with his shifts names and numbers. "Everyone go around the room and introduced yourself"

"Norman Grant 298, I'm your corporal." Grant was an older man with dark chocolate skin. His hair had been shaved completely bald. He was in the army before settling back a few towns over from his hometown. His body was still in great shape for his age.

"Walt Rastley 245" He was a younger man. He was in his mid twenties. His hair was a bright blonde in a neat gel combed style. His body was in top physical performance.

You sat up slightly as the attention turned to you. "Y/F/N Monroe 251" You nodded at Seresin. His eyes met yours with a nod and a smile in your direction. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of green. They looked familiar. You were in a relationship, but that didn't mean you couldn't appreciate a nice-looking man for what he was, and he was definitely something worth looking at.

His attention turned to the next man to speak. "She's my 'Marilyn'." You rolled your eyes playfully at the next officers comment. Everyone chuckled at the statement.

"He tries to make everyone believe he's my Kennedy. Right, Mr. President?" You added jokingly, pressing your lips together in a mocking smile.

"Hey, a man can dream." He puts his hands up in defense, then relaxes back in his seat. "Liam Kennedy 232" Liam was a Kennedy looking man. His hair was also perfectly gelled but had a chocolate brown color. Your relationship was platonic and playful, and you would call him one of your best friends on the shift. He turned his face back to you and wiggled his brows playfully at you.

The other officers on shift introduced themselves. Twelve officers in total were on the shift, including you. You were the only female on shift. That was normal. Every shift had one female, and because of short staffing, most couldn't afford to have more than that.

"Seresin, you will be riding with Mr. President Kennedy here." Sgt rolled out a big barrel laugh.

"That name doesn't sound as sweet coming off your lips, sarge." Kennedy matched the laugh. Leaning into the side of his chair.

"You will be riding with him for the next couple shifts. He will be your FTO for now. I will let you know when that changes. Everyone else, same positions as yesterday." Sgt valley walked around and placed his on Kennedy's shoulder, squeezing. This wasn't the military. Law enforcement was much more smooth and less formal. There was more under the wire talking. Kennedy knew what Sgt was telling him. He was saying without words. 'Give the new guy a warm welcome to hell'

"Yes, sir" Seresin nodded and grabbed his bag. Everyone else watched the clock tick.

"Eh, if we release early, then maybe they will pay it back, and we can get an early breakfast. Dismissed." The officers walked out to their cars five minutes earlier than normal. Settling in the seats of the patrol cas, starting up and testing the sirens, lights, and all the bells and whistles.

You sat down in your seat. You were parked next to Kennedy. Once you both finished testing, you looked over at Kennedy. "I'm going past Churchill Road." You were in the same zone as Kennedy.

You backed up and started driving to your post. Once you made it, you drove around the area. "251 to dispatch I'm 10-8." You heard chatters confirming and marking you as in service from dispatch, then the officer you took over from called back he was 10-7. Leaving his location and out of service in the area.

You drove around watching cars slow down when they saw you. It was funny to watch people get flustered without even seeing their body movements.

Your tag reader started signaling you to a car. You shifted behind the car and turned on your siren and lights. The car started speeding up. You groaned. "So it's gonna be that kind of night." You clicked your radio. "251 to all units. I'm 10-80 with a white accord. Be advised that he is heading east bound on Oak Thorn towards you 232. Dispatch can you run the plate number Charlie, Romeo, India, Victor, 347" You were currently chasing the accord as it sped through the highway.

Dispatch ran the plate through the system and found a frequent flyers name. "Dispatch to 251. It's under Jordan Barn." You groaned even louder. This isn't his first time by any means, and he tended to get aggressive. "232 can you 25. Requesting back up east bound of Oak Thorn." You called for assistance through the radio.

Kennedy watched your location and turned in your direction, hitting his radio. "Im en route to you, eta four minutes." Kennedy turned on his lights and rushed to your side of the zone. "Did you catch all that?" He asked his rookie passenger.

Seresin nodded. His heart started to pump a burst of adrenaline through his limbs. "Your Marilyn found trouble..." He started. Kennedy chuckled swiftly making turns and weaving through traffic. Seresin continues, "She's chasing a white accord east bound on Oak Thorn. The tag is registered to a Jordan Barn."

Kennedy was about a minute out from the chase. "You're gonna catch on quick. Watch out for Barn, he is a firecracker. Man's a drug dealer with an attitude problem."

"Noted." Seresin watched ahead seeing lights in the distance.

"I'm behind you 251." Kennedy called out over the radio to you.

You had been devising a plan while he took his four minutes to get to you. "251 to 298." You paused, waiting for Cpl Grant's go-ahead to be called over the radio. You then continued. "The accord isn't going to stop. It doesn't look like anyone else is in the vehicle. Requesting to do a pit maneuver."

Grant was on the other side of town pulling over a mini van that had a taillight out. He waited before exiting his vehicle, calling back over the radio. "If you have back up, then go ahead and run it. 245, go ahead and head over that way if you're not 10-6. They may need the backup." Grant exited his vehicle and walked to the window. "Did you know your light is out in the back, ma'am?"

Rastley called over the radio. "10-4 I'm en route 251. Eta eight minutes."

You started back your radio traffic. "10-4 298" you paused briefly, acknowledging Rastley. "232, you ready."

Kennedy confirmed over the radio. "10-4" Kennedy looked over to Seresin. "When we get out, you make sure you have your gun ready. If it's Jordan, he is normally armed he hasnt fired yet, but if he sees an opportunity, he's going to take it."

You grabbed the wheel of your car and accelerated pushing just past his back bumper. You nipped at it. His car spun around to a stop. You ripped your car around, pushing into the back tailgate, blocking his exit. Kennedy pulled into the front. Blocking his exit the other way. All three officers exited the patrol cars. "Get on the ground! Get on the ground!" Kennedy yelled out to the suspect. His gun was drawn.

Jordan Barn pulled his gun out and waved it around at the officers. "I ain't going back. You ain't taking me no damn where."

You held your ground with your gun drawn, not pulling any closer to him. "Jordan put the gun down."

Jordan spun his eyes around. "You ain't going to take me you stupid bitch." Jordan had his weapon pointed towards you but then dropped it by his side still holding it. He couldn't admit defeat but knew he was cornered.

That's it. Keep talking. Your mind racing with the adrenaline. Jordan had his back to Seresin and Kennedy. You kept your eyes on Jordan but could see them move in to disarm him. You had to keep his attention on you. "Jordan, I'm hurt by that. I thought you got clean." Kennedy glanced into the truck not seeing anyone else in the car hiding.

Before Jordan could respond, he was disarmed and tackled by Seresin. Kennedy pulled out his cuffs, pinning them tightly behind his back. Kennedy started patting him down, checking for more weapons, but being careful of needles. The instant the gun was thrown from his hand, you ran to the tossed weapon and secured it.

"I got it." You placed the weapon on the hood of Kennedy's car. Seresin and Kennedy picked up the man and pushed him in the back of their car when they knew he was clear.

"We're going to take him to the jail, gotta show the rookie. First, you owe me one. Second, search the car, and if you find anything, call me. I'll add it to the charges." Kennedy walked to the driver's side door and got in. Seresin got in his side, and they took off after you picked the gun back up.

Rastley pulled up right as the pair took off. He stepped out if the vehicle. "Shows over?"

You nodded. "He had a gun. It's Jordan so you know somethings in here. You can help me search if you want."

Rastley nodded. "You know I love a search." You both opened the doors a stench filled your nose. "Damn something died in here." His nose scrunched up.

You sifted through the items both of you were careful about needles. "I got about ten needles over here. Nothings in them" You collected them in an evidence bag knowing there was remainders still in the bottom.

"Nothing over here." You pulled back the carpet and found a box. "I think I got it." You opened the box to find heroin. "Yup I got it. That's a trafficking charge. Jesus, go grab your scale."

A/N: Some radio traffic may not be 100 percent accurate. I worked in the jail, so we didn't use ETA(estimated time of arrival) or a lot of the 10 codes.

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elizxbethofyork · 2 years

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okay, so i watched the leaked episode and then i read all the comments and opinions on tumblr and twitter and i have come to my own conclusion.

**SPOILERS AHEAD**

the plot, the theme of this episode is: grief.

all the characters and their interactions with each other all stem from the grief of losing king viserys. even though they were preparing for this moment it was still a shock.

RHAENYRA: she goes into shock and in the process of losing a father she then loses her baby. she has huge grief hanging over her heart, then learns of the treachery of aegon’s crowning. while everyone is demanding she go to war she is like hold up, let’s first gather allies and intel and make a smart course of action, she is trying to do her duty and is trying to uphold the promise she made to her father. but when she learns about luke’s death, you can tell she’s ready to unleash the dragons. she tried to do this peacefully but from her point of view, they stole her crown and killed her son. SHE LEGIT LOST HER DAD AND 2 KIDS IN 48 HOURS. HELL IS COMING.

DAEMON: the most important aspect of his character is that he loves his family, he loves his brother, and he loves rhaenyra. so when he finds out about his brother’s death, of course, he goes into a rage; and then listens to his wife’s screams unable to help her, and then in the end loses a baby. it’s hard for him to understand why rhaenyra isn’t raging like him. so when she tries to talk about the prophecy and he has no clue of course he going to react the way he did. IM NOT MAKING AN EXCUSE FOR THE DOMESTIC VIOLENCE (HIM CHOKING RHAENYRA IS HORRIBLE AND DISGUSTING), but understand that a character like daemon who uses violence to express his rage and frustration a lot is going to react like that when he discovers that his brother's last betrayal was not trusting him with that secret.

DAEMYRA: everyone is raging over how they ruined this relationship but honestly i feel like the writers are just showing the complexities of this relationship because they are processing grief in their own ways. TOGETHER they lost a daughter and a father/brother. while one is raging the other is cold. so when rhaenyra is like all prophecy talk of course he’s going to be angry and react like because he is a violent man. BUT when the news of luke’s death reaches dragonstone he is the one to tell her and console with her. I FEEL LIKE THIS EPISODE SHOWED THEIR RELATIONSHIP AT A TOUGH TIME AND HOW THEY REACTED TO GRIEF, BUT I ALSO FEEL LIKE THE EPISODE ALSO HIGHLIGHTED HOW THE RELATIONSHIP IS A PUSH AND PULL DYNAMIC, they push each other apart only to pull into each others arms again. I also feel the setup for season two because the beginning of episode they are both helpless and unable to help each other in their grief, but i feel like luke’s death is going to bring that to an end.

RHAENYS: she was a queen in the last episode and she was a boss in this one. i honestly felt like she didn’t have a huge role at the beginning of the season until the last couple of episodes. i felt like she was all loner girl and was like i don’t want to be part of your bullshit drama, and when her husband is like: im finally agreeing with you, FUCK THE BLACKS AND THE GREENS. RHAENYS ENDS UP BEING #TEAMRHAENYRA. QUEEN SUPPORTING QUEEN. She notices her family is falling apart because of the Hightowers and she like not on my watch, though Rhaenyra is the mother who is grieving and trying to hold back a war, Rhaenys is the grandmother who has her back by bringing the family together and more allies to the table.

LUCERYS: baby boy, was just trying to make his mama proud. i felt like he was very anxious and scared of failure throughout the episode. like he’s gained this huge responsibility of being heir to driftmark, then learns that his grandfather died only to witness his mom in agonizing labor pains all while trying to prevent a war. he loves his mother that’s very clear from the beginning from confessing his fears to volunteering to be an envoy. i felt like his death was not all how we expected it to be but his death is the breaking point of the war.

Overall, I felt like this episode wasn’t an assassination on the characters but honestly a deep dive into their emotions, reactions, and their complex relationships.

Honestly, this episode reminds me of that EW interview Matt Smith and Emma D’Arcy had because they said basically if they had actual conversations with each other so much pain and hurt could be avoided.

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #asoiaf #gotedit #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #asoiafedit #hotd #hotdedit #hotd spoilers #dance of the dragons #rhaenys targaryen #lucerys targaryen #daemyra

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jiabeewrites · 1 year

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Avengers Gender & Sexuality Headcanons, but cleaned up a bit

hello hello! I revisited my old post, and it was messy af and I don't really headcanon a lot of these anymore. SO I PRESENT TO YOU:

The Avengers Being Gay As Fuck

STEEB ROGER ROGER || CAPTAIN AMERICA - ohhhhh boy... - bro is kinda not up to speed with how ✨🏳‍🌈 the gays 🏳‍🌈✨ are treated nowadays - so peter decides to teach him - and at first, he's kinda confused, esp about trans people - because hello, he was born in the fourties - it's kinda non-realistic to expect him to snap to reality just like that - anyhoo, peter ain't having the "how tf do trans people work" bullshit - he, like any good gen z kid would do, creates a shitty powerpoint presentation - after two full fucking hours of explanation, steve starts to get it - he still slips up sometimes... - but he tries his fucking best and honestly that's all we can ask of him - i don't really see steve labeling himself, but if you asked, he'd probably just steer the conversation away from that topic - would still use he/him - fuck that was long

TONY STARK || TIN CAN IRON MAN - bro has fucked and been fucked, taken and given head - by both men and women - cmon. there's no way that this billionaire playboy isn't fruity - pansexual, doesn't care about the gender of the person he loves - he's either in a poly relationship with pepper and rhodey or enemies-to-lovers with a certain stephen strange - he/him - funds the annual manhattan pride - qpr with rhodey

BRUCE BANNER || JOLLY GREEN GIANT - oh poor child - i feel like he is not one for sex - like bro practically radiates aroace energy - doesn't really feel the need for gender conformity. gender is an unknown subject and he doesn't like to meddle with it. end of story - pretty sure he's agender - i feel like he wouldn't care what pronouns are used, but if asked, i think he would answer he/they - bro is a triple a battery fr - prefers to be adressed as dr. banner or just banner

NATASHA ROMANOFF || SCARY ASSASSIN LADY - she/her. nuff said. - asexual. i will die on this hill - the red room taught her to use her body to get what she wants - but she never really wanted that - coughseggscough - i wanna say she's demiromantic & bi - clint is her biggest supporter - started the ace avengers club 🍇🐘👻🐈‍⬛

CLINT BARTON || LEGOLAS - i really can't see a queer clint. i can't - i also don't really see him being that one overinvested ally - he/him, straight, cishetallo - sorry :(

THOR ODINSON || THAT ONE THUNDER DUDE - he comes from asgard, where nobody really sees being queer as different - so when he comes to earth........just imagine his surprise when he finds out about homophobia - he found out when some dudebro was yelling at a girl who seemed like she wanted nothing to do with him - another girl was with them, and she looked like she wanted to kill the guy - thor was confusion - he asked what was going on, and the dudebro said that he caught his sister on a date with another girl - yknow, expecting thor to lash out at the girl - but thor was the exact opposite - he grinned, and congratulated the two on their relationship - WLW FOR THE WIN!! - dudebro started going off on a homophobic rampage - one glare from thor and he nearly shit his pants - and THAT is where thor got his title as protector of lesbians - he/him - tried using thunder based pronouns once but decided it wasn't for him - unlabeled. he thinks human labels are weird

JAMES RHODEY RHODES || WAR MACHINE - is he/him - gay as fucking hell oh my god - literally so gay - GAY MAN OVER HERE - k im done - i'm nearly 100% sure he's graysexual. doesn't really care for sex but if his partner(s) really want it...well, he loves them - probably has to steer tony away from fans all the time at pride - i'm also 100% sure he's down for polyamory. there's too much love for just one person in his heart - qpr with tony

PETER PARKER || SPOODERMAN - TRANS PETER TRANS PETER TRANS PETER!!!!!! - 🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧🏳‍⚧ - i know it's a really common tumblr headcanon but i FIRMLY support it! FTM - 60% sure that flash bullies peter because he's trans - i mean like it's more believeable than peter being a nerd - prob uses he/him - comes out to tony first, tony buys peter his first binder - may finds out next and she's just so happy. peter asks for name suggestions and she nearly cries - that's how he got his name :) - this kid forgets to take off his binder so often omg - like ned and mj and may MUST REMIND HIM or he'll forget - i feel like he'd be asexual but sex-neutral - doesn't care for it - bi. bi peter parker.

MICHELLE JONES || EMJAY - is enby 💛🤍💜🖤 - ain't no way she's a girl. like ain't no way - uses she/they if asked, but doesn't really give a fuck about pronouns - bisexual with a pref for gals. callin it now

NED LEEDS || NEDANIEL - pretty sure he uses he/they because he like the pronouns - thought that they/them was cool and just decided to use it :D - sweet boi, supports mj and peter sm - buys them pride flags ✨🏳‍🌈✨ - ned literally radiates aroallo energy like cmon - CMON - aroallos are so cool and sexy actually

LOKI LAUFEYSON || LOW KEY LMAO IM SO FUNNY - is genderfluid 💖🤍💜🖤💙 - like this isn't even headcanon fuck off - will use any and all pronouns, at any given time - idk...maybe it's just me but i'm getting MASSIVE asexual vibes - probably sex positive ace - like slay queen - panromantic. like do i even need to explain this

BUCKY BARNES || BUCKET - i will die on they/them bucky hill - and you will see my corpse there - and you will know i was right - unlabeled. doesn't fully understand themself rn, labels will probably make it worse - sam is a huge part of bucky's queer journey - probably uses peter as a queer encyclopedia

SAM WILSON || CHICKEN MAN - gay as freaking hell omfg - that is HOMOSEXUAL MAN RIGHT THERE - he/him - takes bucky to their first pride parade - queer legend - ✨🏳‍🌈✨

VISION || ROBOT MAN - is undecided on gender for now - decides to just use he/him while he figures everything out - i think he figures out that he's asexual real fast. like sex-repulsed - why humans would ever want to have intercourse is beyond him - same, girl, same - but he's definitely omniromantic. he does experience love, albeit a little differently than the rest of society - don't we all...

WANDA MAXIMOFF || WITCHY BITCHY - found out she was a lesbian after a failed date with vision - neither of them felt the attraction that they had before - so yes. gay. sapphic. wlw. - i hate the term but i feel like she would be a lipstick lesbian until she falls for a butch - she/her - has girl nights with her twin - hmm gay - ❤️🧡🤍💖💜

PIETRO MAXIMOFF || SPEEDY BITCHY - they/he/she - genderfluid, is particular about pronouns - like ik people don't really headcanon it but... - cmon. pietro is LIQUID GENDER. - (this also probably stems from my belief that every single fucking speedster is genderfluid no matter what fandom) - sees a pretty dress? will buy two. one for them and one for wanda - he really does slay stilettos tho - i think she's probably gay (mlm) - stfu pietro can be a gay man if they want to - fuck you

T'CHALLA || CATMAN - gay. GAY - he/they icon - wakanda is a safe place for EVERYONE - besides, all the dora milaje are wlw - probably homosexual, like what else would he be - nakia? 99% sure nakia is trans and they're in a qpr - AROACE NAKIA AROACE NAKIA - *aroaces every single character* - fuck yeah gay t'challa

SHURI || GENIUS GIRL - she/xe - sapphic asexual - shuri x riri is the hill i will die on - leaning towards women and fem aligned genders - started first wakandan pride parade - i'm 99% sure she officiated ayo & aneka's wedding - change my mind

STEPHEN STRANGE || DR WIZARD - agender, doesn't see the point in gender most of the time, so they/them/he/him - believes there are three sexes but an infinite amount of genders - demiromantic, demisexual - fight me - is most likely gay 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 - had a qpr with christine before the incident

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

{\__/} ( • . •) / >🏳‍🌈

HAPPY LESBIAN VISIBILITY WEEK!

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midbyte · 3 months

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Wick and Ulysses, 💭 ✈️ 📚 🔱 🐈 🍃 🍎 💘 💚 💙 🖤 🎂 😊 😖 🤔 🧐 🤓 🤩 😥 😓 😞

hooo boy ty this is a lot. im gonna need 2 put this under a read more

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)? Ulysses probably took an mbti test in high school and ended up getting INTJ. Wick probably doesn't care about personality tests, and considers them a little bullshit.

✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person? My god Ulysses hates traveling and just wants to chill out for even a year. Unfortunately, he's cursed to constantly wander dying worlds. Wick loves to travel though, and has spent hundreds of years traveling the world.

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming? He can swim and breathe underwater, because of his connection to Poseidon. However, despite his water powers he has Thalassophobia and hates swimming. Wick can technically swim, but prefers not to because it messes with their horns which are just kind of burning candles.

📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)? Ulysses's high school was interrupted by the apocalypse, unfortunately. On the other hand, Wick is an immortal scholar and the head of the biggest university in a city of similarly immortal people.

🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? Few close friends, for both. Ulysses just kind of can't make friends, but Wick is typically very reclusive on their own.

🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school? Probably art class for Ulysses? And for Wick, they love all subjects equally.

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace? Ulysses desperately wants to go back home, which happens to be in Maine. Wick was born in the undying city of Valarr, and over the thousands of years they've been living they have grown a deep resentment for the place. Enough to destroy it and free everyone inside from living out a pointless and miserable immortal existence.

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them? Ulysses's best friend he has a weird homoerotic thing with, Simon Smalls. The people most important to Wick are the Maiden at Arms and Mr. Match, two other immortals who have had a long and strained relationship with Wick. They're very divorced.

💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside? Inside for Ulysses, outside for Wick.

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world? Ulysses has classical Posidon-themed demigod powers, able to control water, lightning, earthquakes, etc etc etc. He mostly ignores it and shoots people with guns. Wick, on the other hand, has mastered incredibly potent charm magic and divine fire. They are, after thousands of years, a master of magic who can subtly compel people or fully control them. Or simply burn them alive.

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust? No, Ulysses has mostly dealt with monsters. Wick, though, has done many truly depraved things over the thousand of years they've lived, as have all residents of Valarr. They have acted as a warlord, waging war against the two people they love most, and at one point killed the Maiden at Arm's sister. Everyone in Valarr have done terrible, terrible things, and betrayed and broken the hearts of everyone around them.

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? Ulysses's birthday is June 29th, and only knows he's a Cancer. Wick doesn't remember their birthday since it was so long ago.

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? Ulysses just wants to stop and take a break... Wick has achieved everything they've ever wanted to achieve, and just wants to be put to rest.

😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved? Ulysses is a major introvert, while Wick is also an introvert but is very charismatic and knows how to talk to people. They just don't let people get too close.

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? Ulysses is the only Grecian hero who chain-smokes. He still acts like a 2000s emo kid. Wick is a major hedonist and has a habit of chugging glasses of wine and smashing them on the wall.

🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? Both are majorly emotional, but Wick uses their emotion to fuel their logic if that makes sense. Their goals are driven by emotion, but they use logic to go through with them.

🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions? Spontaneous for Ulysses. Most of the time, he gets dumped in the middle of an apocalypse and has to scramble to fix shit. Wick has the luxury of time, and plans everything very very meticulously.

😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool? Ulysses is 100% stressed all the time. Wick is incredibly composed, but secretly is a ball of rage and stress.

😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge? Ulysses is very stubborn and hates his situation so much. Wick is very inquisitive, but after so long they feel very stuck in their own knowledge. They can't imagine any other solution to their problems than the solutions they came up with.

😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone? Ulysses never has the chance to attract others. He gets shuttled around to other worlds so often the only people he can even attach to are his friends from his original world. Wick, on the other hand, has a natural charisma which attract hordes of people - enough so that at one point, they were able to amass an army through charisma alone and become one of the three warlords of Valarr along with Mr. Match and the Maiden.

#ham.txt #wick #ulysses #hooo boy that was a lot #but very very fun tyyyy

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authorofdragons · 1 year

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you know what? lifes shit. come make something with me

So for context, these are my comfort dolls I crocheted over a year ago: Bonehill and Zerako.

theyre also the main characters of my webcomic Skull & Pyro but you dont gotta worry about that rn all you gotta know is that theyre husbands. (if you wanna worry about it its ok go check out my pinned post)

So I love making them minature things and I'm a horrible little christmas goblin so I wanna make them a mini christmas tree (and a whole scene to boot but lets start with a tree).

Here you can see the leaves fighting against their creator as I bring them into this wretched world (aka my loops kept falling off my hook). I went off of The Lazy Hobbyhopper's pattern here. Base of the tree is made with bulky green yarn I found in a bin and then worsted weight white yarn to make the leaves look smaller to make sure the green would be seen underneath. I Also skipped every other row when making the leaves to further achieve this.

Next I need a sturdy interior so the tree is firm for decorating. There could be better materials for this but my brain will use any and everything I have on hand before it'll buy new materials so my grubby lil hands grabbed some cardstock and made it a cone

Next for the trunk I used the left over cardstock to make a tube and then grabbed a old CVS paper bag to give it trunk texture and color. The final touches are with crayola marker because thats just the crisis situation we're dealing with here.

Now the base of the tree is made, rad, cool, looks neat.

Ignore the fact that my camera decided my walker is the star of the photo this is what happens when I screenshot my videos.

We need a topper and I refuse to make a normal star bc my boys are agents of chaos so I asked my mom what it should be and she suggested a mushroom gnome. She knows me well.

I make a lot of these little guys purely bc my brain eel has decided they are The Shit right now. This is my own pattern that is minimal sewing because I Hate Sewing Extra Shit it just makes more steps in my mind which makes the brain eel angery. So I bullshit stitches and run with it. If I can learn to translate the horrors that are my patterns into words, maybe one day Ill share it. Unfortunately the horrors are winning

Now for ornaments and lights. I could crochet those but brain eel doesn't want to so Target it is.

Now on with the lights, these fairy lights were bright as fuck and with the white leaves I felt assaulted with color ASDFJFLGK like listen I love color but Im used to green trees and didn't realize the frosted leaves would just Become The Entire Light Spectrum

they are entranced.

So I just swapped the fairy lights with my taco lights that were on my own mini tree and honestly, that fits better in every way given Zerako notoriously loves tacos and its much less stimulating. And the fairy lights look great on my tree.

Of course I need cheesy couples photos of them putting the tree up because it Is their tree, they deserve this moment.

you're doing great boys (they are not doing anything)

NOW for ordaments. Percieve them putting on the ordaments.

Now pretend you never perceived them (for I am doing the rest).

All together it looks great!! The colorful ordaments really help balance the plain yellow/white lights.

I adore how this turned out. Life is still shit but my boys have their own tree so I'll live with it 💚 I got more christmas crafts planned for these two so follow me for more mild serotnin inducers.

Hope life's a little less shit for you today 💙

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luffythinker · 7 months

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Aoyama/Bakugo Anon back again to bring my fanfiction thingy that's not a fanfiction but kinda is ?

Previously on whatever this is

"We don't have to commit to anything but i would like to." Bakugo says between kisses and snuggles. "Give me a reason to want to be ready."

This is his way of saying kiss me on the mouth and Aoyama does. Bakugo balls his hands in Aoyama's shirt, it gets messed up cause his hands are sweaty but neither of them care.

---

Bakugo feels fireworks go off when Aoyama kisses him, it's soft it's his first real kiss CAUSE IMMA BE REAl Deku is his first kiss but i want his first kiss to be special so im gonna say his first kiss was when he was a kid and Midoriya kissed him on the lips cause he said "That's what people do when they love eachother and i love you Kacchan" to which he just replied "Whatever Deku" THEY WERE KIDS IM SURE BOTH MOTHERS BRING THIS UP ALL THE TIME- its funny

Anyway Aoyama doesn't make it weirdly long or anything he pulls away first cause Bakugo is lost in the sauce. He didn't notice it but he was grabbing onto Aoyama's shirt his hands balled into the cotton fabric. He snaps out of it with a semi loud "HUH" like he does you know the way he does if you watch the dub.

"T-thats it? That's fucking it?"

"Hehe, was you expecting more darling?"

"I-... you..." Bakugo is red as a tomato searching for the words hes unable to find that linger in his mind and at the end of his tongue.

It's almost laughable how adorable Bakugo is here tonight. "I see this that was reason enough was it not?" The smile on his face makes Bakugo want to slap it off, but he rather enjoys how pretty it looks so he decides against the idea of smacking the pretty boy.

Pretty boy? Since when was a boy ever pretty to him? GAY AWAKENING - well in my honest to god opinion Kirishima is Bakugo's gay awakening, the way he reached his hand out to save him tell me he didn't have a gay panic when they started living in the dorms but he forced himself to get over it. - This one he's unable to force himself to get over it like a headcold that wont go away he's fallen like a star for the boy who wears glitter, the boy who probably wears a little make up, the boy who's so secretive about everything he does and somehow a open book in class A. His pretty boy Bakugo starts to like how that sounds the more he repeats it in his head.

His pretty boy twinkles.. His.

"Look here sparkles, starting from today forward i'm not gonna bullshit this feeling anymore." Aoyama looks confused at the face that was seconds ago very restful looking, now his eyebrows are furrowed and he's not using his inside voice anymore, it was cute. he kinda prefers/wants it back now.

Saying he likes him means admitting it first, Katsuki Bakugo never admits to anything first unless its about being the best, this fucker is going to admit his love for him first. "I'm gonna embrace it so you better do the same!" He's not leaning against him as much anymore cause he's trying to prove a point.

It's a test to see how long this will last before the sparking boy says it first.

"Don't hold back anything, if we're gonna do this we do this right got that?"

Aoyama is extremely confused as to what in god's green earth Bakugo is talking about but if he had to take a guess he thinks he means if they are going to be in a relationship he doesn't want them to fake it? Aoyama isn't really sure but he is sure he wants what just happened to happen again.

"Um, Oui, i think we should try."

"Glad we're on the same page." Bakugo gets up. "It's pass 8:30 going over 9:00 and we've got classes in the morning so go the fuck back to your room and go the fuck to sleep your keeping me awake Twinkles."

This is the harshest and kindess way he could get thrown out of someone like Bakugo's room and still have all his limbs. Someone from the bakusquad sees Aoyama leaving Bakugo's room with a dumb look on his face (we are in agreement Jirou is in the Bakusquad so maybe it's her lol)

On the bus for a hero field trip

Bakugo doesn't make any attempts to hold Aoyama's hand but when Aoyama also doesn't he gets a ping on his phone from a certain blasty astroid blond telling him if he wants to hold his hand he better damn well hurry up and do it.

"Don't think i didn't see you looking at me like a fucking gazelle trying to figure out if the water is safe to drink earlier..." He reads

afterwards another text is sent

"i don't bite ya know."

He doesn't have to see his face to know the emotion connected to this sentence. It's like a puppy begging to be pet. He's never felt so insulted and charmed at the same time. It's the weirdest feeling in the world. Bakugo is so cute the way he tries to get people to make the first move Aoyama almost feels bad about playing this game cause he could play it all day and never get tired.

Aoyama is feeling bold today so he text back.

"I feel like there are far nicer ways of asking me to hold your hand darling >;)" He debates on typing in a * to make a star but he just opts for using the star emoji instead.

He see's Bakugo steaming in a few seats in front of him by the other window looking at his phone before Aizawa tells them they have to get off.

This kind of talk earns Aoyama exactly what he wants, Bakugo in his face trying to argue the issue that he was trying to be nice. Or as he says it "Fucking nice." Bakugo is probably just surprised he has the balls to talk to him that way even if it is just over text.

(Idk i guess this hero trip took them to the woods like the training camp but without the training cause i dont know what im doing pretend with me)

"Bet you wouldn't say something smart like that to my face."

"Is that what your into mon chéri?"

Aoyama is smirking, Bakugo is blushing his pupils the size of rice and Aoyama is winning it is so much fun to mess with him.

Bakugo grabs him by his frilly white shirt and pushes him against a tree "You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid," Bakugo growls his tongue sliding across his lower lip like something's delicious. apparently this is what Bakugo is into and Aoyama keeps being right about this boy and his cues.

"I would appreciate if you weren't rough with me." He dares to place the his hand upon the one's grabbing him. It isn't super rough or even Bakugo grade rough, he's holding back cause he knows where the strength level stands between the two of them.

"I'm quite delicate." He's able to loosen Bakugo's fingers, guide them to be somewhere else so he can maneuver his own hands, he places his thumb to Bakugo's chin slightly tilting his head up eyes locked on that mouth that never stops shouting.

"From here it looks like you who wants to kiss me again, was that your plan this whole time?" Asking for it was out of the question so he had to do all this just to get a kiss from a pretty boy in the forest.

"You are so silly darling, you don't have to do that." He shakes his head slowly. Bakugo is under his spell once again and loving it cause he worked his ass off to get right where he wants to be. "Just ask me," Aoyama presses his lips to Bakugo's in a quick kiss.

"I too do not bite." Another one but this one is a little longer.

"Unless you want me to.." He whispers and it makes Bakugo's ears flush, his hands sweat.

Sadly a ruffle in the forest catches them off guard but they are able to make themselves look alive. It's one of their classmates coming to find them cause they need Bakugo to help cook the food.

Bakugo returns to his regular yelling self getting angry about how these extra's can't do anything by themselves.

It's always so close but not enough Aoyama thinks.

Back at the dorms it's been like a week of forest training + camping out, it wasn't bad but Aoyama was missing his hair dryer and actual running water so he was glad to be home.

He finds himself thinking about Bakugo and how all of this wont last long due to him being the traitor and all. He has to make it last cause once he's done with everything there wont be anymore him and Bakugo spending any time together.

Aoyama falls asleep the moment Bakugo is about to come check on him, he peaks in his room to find him sleeping and closes the door quietly.

"Night sparkles." Bakugo thinks to himself behind the door.

They cook breakfast together tomorrow when everyone is asleep. Aoyama is standing beside Bakugo learning the in's and out's about the way Bakugo handles himself in the kitchen, he's very versatile with everything he cooks and with every utensils like some kind of expert chef.

"My my!" He ask leaning towards the other blond. "May i ask where or how you learned how to cook this way?"

Bakugo smirks because his skills are being acknowledged AKA his ego is being stroked.

"My Dad taught me."

"Oh really? Usually it's the mother who teaches, my mama taught me to cook for myself."

"My hag of a mom didn't teach me shit about cooking."

"Oh," Aoyama's features drop a little. "Did i bring up a sore subject?"

"Forget it, just help me with this."

Aoyama helps Bakugo finish up breakfast for everyone.

Later while cooking dinner together Aoyama cuts his finger and Bakugo yells at him.

"Shit Sparkles!" he hurries a paper towel to the bleeding finger.

"Im sorry."

"Be careful when you stick your hands in water full of plates and crap, there could be other shit in there you don't see like that knife." Holding it to his finger Bakugo yells over his shoulder. "WHOEVER PUT A KNIFE IN THE SINK WATER IM GOING TO K I LL YOU"

Aoyama feels blessed to have someone fuss over something as small as a cut like this. He also feels blessed when Bakugo's kissing back both boys in the angers desk chair. Aoyama is sitting in the chair while Bakugo is sitting turned towards him making quick work of his lips. He's become a better kisser to more they do this he expressed he how he didn't know where teeth even go in a kiss when they were studying together but the conversation took a turn and they had to finish up quckly so they could go to Bakugo's room.

Aoyama held Bakugo close, before the hand that was wrapped around his shoulders pushed against his chest.

"What is wrong darling?"

"I-i've had enough. We're done here." Bakugo sits back a little because he knows he's got him and he wont let him fall- This has been happening a lot lately, Bakugo starts to feel weird so he wants to stop, everytime this happens Aoyama never forces him or ask him why he just lets him go and they hang out a little until Aoyama is kicked out in a polite way.

They have been doing this for a while now, Bakugo has found himself doing things he probably shouldn't thinking about his pretty blond boy. Thinking about how that pretty blond boy would do it instead.

Is it normal to fantasize lewd things like this he wondered laying in his bed limbs stretched out.

Aoyama never gave himself the chance because he never planed on being around along enough to receive that kind of attention. It saddens him when one day Bakugo wants to go further than just kissing. He has to decline and say he's had enough the same way Bakugo does.

This confuses Bakugo but he lets it go because maybe they shouldn't be doing this to began with. This makes him think he's just acting like a horny teen with 0 control over his body. They still kiss they still hang out, they still cook nothing is missing from the relationship except a name.

"I think i asked you this before but are you dating Aoyama?" Kirishima ask Bakugo while he's helping him with his math.

"What about it?" he doesn't have to say yes for shitty hair to understand what the answer is.

"That's awesome!" he congratulates.

Kirishima keeps asking little questions everytime he can, like "Do you guys go on dates?"

"Do you get eachother gifts?"

The one question that sticks out to him the most is when he hears Mina talking to the other girls about something stupid and says. "If a guy didn't say he loved me i wouldn't date him. Who wants to date some they don't really love? At least have the balls to say it, GOD"

It gets him thinking.

Does he love Aoyama? Is this just a crush? will it go away? is it going away for Aoyama? he keeps pushing him away when things get intense like Bakugo used to do is he done using him now? Come to think of it he hasn't seen that glitter stain in a few days where the fuck is he anyway?

THE PLOT THICKENS Aoyama keeps reporting to AFO so he's missing alot

Sorry for taking so long to reply, I wanted to read and react properly!!

I'm going to do the reaction thingy cause I thought it was fun the last time let's go <33

LOVE BKDK BEING EACH OTHER'S FIRST KISS, tbh it just makes sense and I love the lil scenario you came up with, but yeah I will let Aoyama have the first REAL kiss

OH HE WAS EXPECTING MORE, LET'S NOT GET AHEAD OF OURSELVES BAKUGO

GAY AWAKENINGKJDSJKD everybody shut up Bakugo is having his blue neighboord trilogy by troye sivan moment!! I could see Kirishima being it, but it's more like the crush you only realize you had when you look back into your life and realize you were gay since a long time ago

/his pretty boy/ oh I'm not strong enough for this

oh we going fast here, trust Bakugo to figure his shit out in minuteshksdksd it's soooo him to say "I'm liking you so you better fucking like me back too"

does Aoyama even understand what's going onkjdfjkd he's just going along with it! bkg is such a grandpa like okay we will go to sleep at 9pm

"TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT IF THE WATER IS SAFE TO DRINK" DFKJDFJKFDWHATTHEUFKCKKLJKLSD him asking for care without asking

Aoyama finding out Bakugo is into bratting in the funniest way possible

"You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid," BYEJSDLJSDLKJXLKXFLJXLJXLJDFJKKJDF I've read a line like this in a fic once, but it was from kpop BUT OMG THIS SCENE, THE TENSION, THE BUILT UP IM NOT DOING WELL. HE DOESN'T BITE UNLESS HE WANTS TO FUCKKFKFDKJDFKJ

NOT AN INTERRUPTION OH FFS

Love them cooking together, talking, and protective Bakugo (my favorite ao3 tag)

WAIT WAIT WAIT DON'T DENY IT AOYAMA WHY WOULDNT YOU TAKE THIS CHANCE [but also I get, I really do, I think it would make it too real, would hurt bkg too much when he leaves, I get it but damn]

Oh the overthinking…. my poor Katsuki he doesn't deserve this, please please make them talk and figure things out :((

I really loved this one, lots of developments for both of them but the ending…. real life interfering in their romance bubble and I fear things will crash soon, there's always a fallout before it can be okay again right…

Really need to say this but I love your writing, when I tell you you had me laughing and screaming out loud in my bedroom im being so for real!!!! thank you for sharing your story with me, I'm looking forward to it <3

#bakugo x aoyama #bakuyama #bakugo katsuki #aoyama yuuga #bnha #bnha rare pair #fanfic #rei replies

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thrumydarkness · 6 months

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The one thing my Dad wanted me to have when he...passed, was his new iPad. I couldn't find it so my mom and I assumed that my millionaire sister stole it and gave to the GOLDEN CHILD:her eldest, her son. My sister took my Dad's very expensive Art collection off the damn wall while he was still at home and very much Alive!! I got pissed BC she had the means to help with at home care but she just traveled, bought more properties and houses, and barely ever came by to see my Dad and Mom and stopped calling and going with him to important Dr appointments! She can't handle anything emotional or was in denial. "She's so busy. Leave her alone." That's what my alcoholic mother always said. Bullshit. And my Dad LOVED THE BEACH BOYS soooo much that that is the ONLY MUSIC he wanted played at his "CELEBRATION OF LIFE" and she had the audacity to try to take the painting by *Brian Wilson* (the Beach Boy & he signed it). My Dad, Mom and I all freaked out. So it stayed.. Plus there's OVER 30 extremely EXPENSIVE WORKS OF ART in our garage. But she just had to take his favorite art off his wall. I was a caregiver for my grandfather who passed 6/8/2024 AND for my DAD (cancer EVERYWHERE) & MY MOTHER (NON-functioning ALCOHOLIC/ADDICT). She was horrible to my Dad the last weeks...she said the most HORRIBLE things....

I'm used to her treating me like shit and kissing my sisters ass. I was the "bad child"- kicked out of 2 private schools, anorexic, raver/junglist during late 90s/early 2000s so definitely took drugsssss...XTC,Special K, whip itsssss, Buddha, snow..... But then focused back on my dancing (I had gone to a PERFORMING ARTS HIGH SCHOOL).... SOLo when I left my university away from home (yeah, I was in a sorority) and came back home to get an AA in Dance, join a hip hop girl crew, and was a go go dancer at a cool lesbian bar. I was happy and sober again. Just Buddha. Then I went back to university but in my home town... Getting a BA in Creative Writing/English Literature. (And started a chapter of the sorority I was in at UCF).Getting to write freely, studying Hinduism as a Christian, and starting my own brand new chapter of my sorority with new and old friends -making some new roles since we were new. I remained the Philanthropy Chair for 2 years BC I loved helping people, charity, just spending mine time doing for others!

But then I broke up with my DJ boyfriend....so I called my cousin/best friend for a new green connect and met the love of my life-the one who got away who I still see and talk to 22 years later! That's confusing.

I got off topic....

My Dad died 9/15/2024. 3 months after my Papaw and I'm broken. Completely.

I'm already on disability for MENTAL & PHYSICAL disorders.

I NEED A CAREGIVER BUT IM ONE TO EVERYONE ELSE...even my (ex) husband who has been unemployes for 7 years! So codependent and addicted.... I need to go away to a hospital!

💔😭🎗🤯⚓🐭🤟👩‍👩‍👧💚👩‍❤️‍👩❤👩‍❤️‍👨🏄‍♀️🧘🏄🌻🍓🦓🍽🔮🎭🎱🏝🏨🛥🌛🌌🌝🌈👜👑🎶🎧🎥📼📚💲📝⚖💊🚬🏧🕉♎✝♀♂♂🈂🇨🇺🇮🇹

#caregiver #cancer #grief #dysfunctional family #mental health #spoonie

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin’ idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

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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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fairyaali · 3 years

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hi bestie.. 😃

so um , i saw this prompt somewhere and i wanted to send it to my favorite blog ! ( you ) so here it is!!

adrien with a s/o who’s from america ( new york specifically ) and she has a very veronica lodge type past. meaning she’s very proper and rich and silvertounged but very kindhearted and sweet and extremely loyal.

but she has a past where she used to be a bully in new york and bullied people if they didn’t fit in , and was practically the it girl from a movie? does that make sense?

however shes changed , yet one day during a akuma attack , her whole past gets revealed and videos of her being a complete BITCH and it being played off as hot by her classmates gets shown to the entire of paris?

what’s adrien doing? is she going to comfort her or leave her?

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

I had so much fun writing this, but fair warning that it’s kind of angsty oops! thank u for the request nonetheless <333

Ship: Adrien Agreste X reader

Warnings: Swearing.

Tags: Angst oops

What should you do when your father is out on a business trip?

Throw a party.

And that’s exactly what you did. At least that’s what you used to do back in New York. It’s something you were known for. Now since you’ve got the chance to start fresh with a new life in Paris you decided to bring an old tradition back with you and invite some friends over from the school you’re attending, and your boyfriend of course.

Adrien Agreste. You had no idea what you did to get such an angel in your life. You’ve been dating him for a few moths now and you could already see yourself becoming a better person around him. You came to Paris with the intention of leaving your past behind, starting new and fresh without the bullshit from your past. This was it. Nothing could fuck this up.

“Hey,let me help you.” You hear your Adrien say while you try to adjust the lights near the DJ stand.

“I got it.” You say and get on your tip toes to hang the last light. “There.” You say, a successful smile on your face.

“You really out did yourself huh?” You feel his arms wrapping around you from the back and you hum.

“Oh please Agreste, this is nothing compared to what I used to do in New York.” You say and turn around, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I hope everyone likes it.” You say, more to yourself than to him.

“Of course they will, Ma belle.” He says and kisses your forehead.

You loved it when he called you nicknames, they just made butterflies burst around your stomach.

His soft hand reaches up to touch your cheek and he caresses it gently. You look into his green eyes which were soft and welcoming. He is so gorgeous.

Your noses touch and you sigh, touching his hand and smiling softly. “I hate to ruin the moment, my love but I have to go make a few minor changes before your friends come.”

He pouts at you. “But everything’s already perfect, can’t we spend some alone time together before everyone comes?”

You shake your head. “I promise you’ll have me all to yourself tonight , Agreste.” You smirk and watch as his cheeks glow red. You quickly kiss his cheek and giggle, walking away to the kitchen to make sure that everything is in place.

It didn’t take long before people started arriving.

“Claudia, start offering the drinks around to people.” You whisper to your maid before going to greet everyone.

A familiar bluenette appears, with an amazed look on her face while she looks around. You grin and walk towards her.

“Marinette! You look stunning!” You say and give each other a friendly kiss on the cheek. She really did look stunning. You’ve never seen her hair like this before, let down and slightly curled. She’s wearing a dress which perfectly hugged her body and the colour was gorgeous on her - A deep vermilion shade which complemented her fair skin.

“Likewise.” She grins and looks at your dress. “Oh my god who are you wearing? This dress is gorgeous.” She gasps, eyes wide while she moved around to see the dress from the back and front. You knew that she would comment on it, she had an eye for fashion after all.

“My father got this for me as a gift from South Korea. The designer is a family friend of ours.” You smile proudly. You didn’t want to brag about it but in all honesty you loved this dress too much not to show it off.

You look to her side and see a blue haired boy standing kind of awkwardly next to her. “And you must be…?” You trail off, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Luka, Marinette’s date.” He says nonchalantly and Marinette stops looking at your dress, straightening up with her face glowing red.

“Ah, I see. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Im-“

“I already know who you are.” He states and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re more than sure you’ve never met this guy before.

Marinette nudges him and you see him stiffen up.

“I mean, it was kind of a big deal when you came to Paris and everyone was talking about you so-“

Marinette sighs and grabs Lukas arm. “We’re going to get a drink, It was nice seeing you! Au revoir !” She says and walks away with Luka. You could hear her cussing at him from where you were standing.

Ah, of course. You knew that everyone was talking about you. The new rich bitch from New York who’s mother is in jail. That’s what everyone saw at first. Maybe they do still see it now. But maybe that’s why you fell for Adrien, because he never judged you in the first place despite all those rumors.

You turn around and see him, talking to Nino. He’s wearing the outfit you picked out for him. Black shirt slightly unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, tan pants with a black belt around them and black converse. His hair was messy but it looked so good on him and his cheeks were tinted a little pink, probably because of the few drinks that he’s had already. Your eyes meet and he smiles at you. Right as he was about to come next to you, you feel someone tap your shoulder.

“Hi, Nadja Chamack. Did you move to paris because your mother is imprisoned for drug trafficking? Was your father denied bail?” The woman rushes to say while shoving a microphone to your face. You stare at her wide eyed. You didn’t know what to say.

“Hey, leave now before I call security, you shouldn’t be up here.” You hear Adrien say sternly while putting a hand on your shoulder.

“But was that the reason you came to Paris or was it because of the video that was spread of you-“

“Security!” Adrien shouts and two body guards grab Nadja and her camera man.

You stand there, dumbfounded as the body guards drag them away, the two cussing and struggling to get out of their grasp.

“Mon ange, are you okay?” Adrien asks, cupping your face with his hands, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You look at him and clear your throat.

“I’m fine, I need a drink.” You say and remove his hands from your face and start walking away.

He grabs your hand and looks at you, concern filling your eyes.

“No you’re not okay.” He says, kissing your hand and holding it gently. “What did they mean by video?” He asks.

Your body goes into full fight or flight mode.

“God Adrien! It’s nothing.” You snap at him. “just let it go, I don’t want to deal with this right now.” You remove yourself from his grasp and quickly walk away to the open bar.

You didn’t mean to snap at him but that conversation needed to wait until you two got more serious. You weren’t ready for it.

You grab a glass of champagne and down it, your face contorting because of the after taste.

You were about to get another one until you hear a scream.

“We want to know all your secrets! Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news!” A distorted voice says and you drop your glass on the floor when you see a dark purple monstrous figure coming your way.

“Shit.” You cuss and run away from the bar.

Everyone was screaming and trying to rush to the exit but everywhere was closed off with a purple like shield around.

You frantically look around to find a place to hide until you see a familiar blond with cat ears motioning to you.

Chat Noir. Thank god.

You were about to run to him until you started floating in the air, a purple bubble surrounding you.

You screamed and frantically hit it to try to escape but it was no use.

“I got you now!” You hear the distorted voice say and let out an evil laugh.

You watch your phone float out of your hand and out of the bubble.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

You were fucked.

The bubble that surrounded you explodes and you fell from it, right into the arms of Chat Noir.

“Hey I got you it’s okay” He says smiling at you and for some reason you were slightly comforted by him.

Your eyes fill with tears and your throat begins to feel like it’s closing.

“She has my phone.” You croak out and your body starts shaking.

You see Ladybug swinging from the roof, throwing her Yo-Yo to try and grasp the villain but it was too late.

A screen appeared out of thin air and a video started playing - you were in it, in your classroom in your school in New York. You knew exactly what this video was.

Your jaw clenched when it started playing.

“Awh look she’s crying guys.” You say in a condescending tone in the video. The girl, Sarah, was balling her eyes out in front of you while you smirk and stand in front of her, your arms crossed.

“H-How could you!” She sobs out.

“How could I what? Your boyfriend was the one with his hands all over me, I just gave him what he really wanted.” You say and chuckle.

“That’s not true he would never-“

“Cheat?” You cut her off, lean closer to her and put your hands on the desk in front of her. “hate to break it to you honey but he did.” You tell her and she sobs even harder.

“Maybe this will help you put you back in your place.” You say, grabbing her face, making her look at you. “You’re a nobody, a loser and you had the audacity to talk shit behind my back?”

Her lips quiver in fear and she was visibly shaking in the video.

“You think you could ever stand a chance against me? Think again bitch.” You say and let her face go, turning around and arranging your skirt.

“By the way, he’s a really good kisser. Such a shame.” And with that you walk away from her while people wolf whistle at you and mumble things under their breath.

You were still in Chat’s arms, he was looking at the screen, eyes wide and lips parted. It was like he was frozen. Tears were streaming down your face, you couldn’t move.

Everyone around you was mumbling and whispering things.

“She’s such a bitch.”

“I knew the rumors about her were true! She’s horrible!”

“This wasn’t the video I wanted! Where’s the proof where’s the-“ The villain gets cut off by Ladybug grabbing her microphone with the akuma in it and slamming against her knee. A purple butterfly emerges from it and she grabs it with her yoyo, turning it white.

“Miraculous ladybug!” She chants and the place starts magically getting back to normal.

Chat clears his throat. “I need to go.” He mumbles and removes his hands from you. You nod and stare down at your shoes.

“Thank you for saving me.” You say, forcing yourself to smile.

He didn’t even look at you, he didn’t even say anything as he left.

Did he think you were horrible too?

Oh my god.

Adrien.

After the villains were taken away everyone left without even saying goodbye to you.

You sat down on the platform near the DJ stand and hugged your knees closer to your chest.

You hear footsteps walk towards you and you look up. His green eyes meet yours but they instantly avert to the side.

“You know, when we first started dating, everyone was telling me about these stupid rumors about you and I never wanted to hear them because I never believed you could be capable of that.” He says, a frown on his lips. “I never wanted to be so fucking right in my life but I guess I was wrong.”

You were trying so hard not to cry in front of him. You knew that this would happen when he found out, it was like a gut feeling. Adrien Agreste is a good person. He likes to be surrounded by good people and that video just showed that you might not be the good person he really thought you were. Your heart ached.

“I’ve c-changed Adrien.” You stutter in a small voice, scared that you would break down if you spoke too loudly.

“Have you really?” he questions, looking directly at you. He was disappointed in you. “God, why didn’t you tell me this before!” He rubs his face in frustration. You’ve never seen Adrien so worked up like this.

“Because I knew You’d react like this!” You say, louder this time as you get up. “For fucks sake Adrien! I told you my past wasn’t perfect and I know I was a bitch but I was young and stupid and I know it doesn’t excuse my actions but I’ve grown from my mistakes. I came to Paris with the mindset of becoming better, finding out who I really am and starting fresh!”

You watch him part his lips to say something but You cut him off.

“Look me right in the eye and tell me you’ve never done a mistake in your life, Adrien.”

His lips close and he averts his gaze away from you again.

“I know I should’ve told you sooner but I was too scared of losing you. Y-you made Paris feel like my home, you’re the reason why I make better choices, you helped me find myself.” Tears start falling down your cheeks and you look down. “And if I haven’t changed then I wouldn’t be looking stupid and crying over you and explaining myself to you because im genuinely terrified at the thought of losing the first person in my life who I’ve genuinely fallen in love with.” You sob out.

There was silence, apart from the sniffles and sobs coming from you.

“What did you say?” Adrien asks you and you hear his footsteps come closer.

“What?” You sniffle, looking up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. Your eyes were puffy and red and so was your nose. You haven’t cried like this in ages.

“The last part.”

“I’ve genuinely fallen in love with you? “ You mumble and widen your eyes. Oh shit, you’ve fucked up again.

“I know it’s sudden and I don’t expect you to return it back and I don’t know why I just said that but-“ He cuts you off with his lips smashing against yours.

It was euphoric. Probably the most genuine kiss you’ve ever felt in your life.

He breaks away, your foreheads touching and both of you breathless.

His pretty pink lips curl into a small smile and his face cups yours, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“I love you too.” He whispers and kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry I overreacted, I just didn’t want to be wrong about you but I believe that you’ve changed, I know you’re heart is pure.”

And that’s when you realized that yes, your heart was pure again. Clean from all the sins you’ve did in the past. You didn’t know if it was his green eyes, soft skin, perfect lips or maybe the way he looked at you that has cleansed you but maybe it took pure love to find a pure heart.

#adrien agreste #mirculous ladybug #adrien x reader #adrien agreste x reader #mlb #chat noir #cat noir #chat noir x reader

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sissyjamieray · 3 years

Text

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

#feminized husband #xdress #embrace your femininity

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itsnothesameasitwas · 3 years

Note

hiii! im looking for good freinds to lovers fics bc i go through them sooooo fast :/ if you have any good ones pls send them !!!

hii… sorry this took me a whole day but here some Friends to Lovers fics… all the fics I’m recommending are Larry and please be careful with the tags before start reading and leave kudos :)

ABO

♥ Promise Me You Won't Run Away by thinlines @thinlinez | 23k | E

“Does kissing me stop you from having bad thoughts?” Harry asked, voice muffled into the collar of Louis’ dress shirt. Louis chuckled at this. He trailed a hand down Harry’s back, feeling the muscles tensing along with his touch.

“I guess you can say that. You’re a good distraction.”

“Then I will be the best distraction.” Harry answered, pulling back and watched Louis’ lips unashamedly.

“Come distract me, then.”

Or the Prince/ Knight AU in which Harry left Louis, but the omega never once gave up on them.

♥ i don't wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby | 19k | E

Harry has been in love with Louis Tomlinson for four years, five months, and thirteen days.

Harry had fallen in love with Louis Tomlinson like how he’d seen in movies, and how he’d read in all the books he’d stolen from Gemma, headfirst and shameless. The only problem was, that in films and books, love was always either returned instantly, or else it took time for unrequited love to lose the first two letters, and since the first option was obviously not true, Harry decided he would wait for the second to become reality. And so Harry waited, three years, eight months, and four days, before his heart had been broken by a gentle rejection and a misplaced blowjob, before Louis and Gemma had packed up and gone to Manchester for university.

(Harry is a hopelessly romantic omega and Louis is his sister's best friend)

♥ picking up the pieces by falsegoodnight @falsegoodnight | 35k | E

“Zayn,” he murmurs, quietly but desperately.

Knowing what to do immediately, Zayn discreetly glances behind them to scan the room. “Walking over,” he says, confirming Louis’ worst fears.

“Maybe he’ll just pass by without stopping,” Louis says, glancing at the tables next to them as if hoping to find some other group of friends Harry had in high school that he could possibly want to talk to.

Eyebrow arched and lips pursed, Zayn has the nerve to look amused. “He’s looking directly at us.”

“Cause a diversion,” Louis rushes through his teeth, panic clawing up his throat. He can’t look Harry in the face again. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his hand, interlocking their fingers. “It’s now or never, dear.”

- Louis returns to his hometown for the first time in ten years for his high school reunion and is faced with memories he’s long since tried to forget.

MPREG

♥ waiting on you by beckywritesthings @beckydoesthings | 21k | M

“Do you want to touch?” Harry asks, taking one of his hands off to tangle with Louis’. His open invitation finally drags Louis’ attention away from his baby and up to his face, blue eyes wobbly with emotions. It’s clear that he’s too taken to really form words, so Harry takes the initiative to press their laced hands against his shirt fabric, warmth from the skin radiating through.

Louis pushes his shirt up to his chest, taking Harry’s hand and pressing it to hold the fabric in place. His hands return to warm skin, palms even more scalding now that there’s nothing in between them. And then, as if that wasn’t enough for Harry’s heart to handle, Louis leans in, pressing his lips right above his belly button.

“Hi, baby,” he says, lips moving across his skin softly. “I’m your… I’m Louis.”

Or Harry is pregnant with a stranger’s baby and Louis doesn’t know. It’s a minor detail that Harry’s both living with Louis and in love with him. No big deal.

♥ you fit me better than my favourite sweater by brightbluelou | 13k | NR

Harry didn't mean to fall in love with his best friend, and he definitely didn't mean to get pregnant. Despite that, it’s probably still the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And after that, well. It just kept getting better.

or; the one where Harry and Louis are friends-with-benefits and Harry unexpectedly gets pregnant. Harry never wants to stop getting pregnant after that, but Louis thinks seven kids is probably enough.

AUS

♥ our matchmaker: the fucking universe by peachloulou | 8k | E |

On your eighteenth birthday, you end up with your soulmates' name tattooed on your body. The universe works in a fairly simple way, so Louis knows Harry is his soulmate. He's got Harry's name tattooed on his ass cheek like a tramp stamp, and Harry's got the name Lou written on the inside of his wrist. Except Harry doesn't know what Louis' soulmates name is because Louis is a romantic fool, and, ever since Harry woke up with the name Lou two years after Louis, he's been a quest to find his own soulmate. Meeting after meeting.

But maybe Louis' wrong, and he and Harry are nothing more than best friends.

Or the one where the universe is annoyingly fucking complicated.

♥ Love Isn't Always on Time by softfonds @softfonds | 45k | E

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

♥ You Might Want to Marry My Husband by Rearviewdreamer | 37k | M

When Harry’s husband dies, he asks one thing of him; to find love and happiness again without him. It’s a request that Harry is happy to disregard, until he meets the one person who is impossible to ignore.

♥ Work of Magic by Bekita @justalarryblog | 34k | NR

"C’mon Liam, are you really going to use this against me now? You know the kind of humans his kind is! You know very well why we hunt them!" Louis said, done with the conversation and walking down the hall.

"No! We hunt people who don’t care about others, and neither Harry nor anyone in his family is like that!” Liam exasperated, following behind. “Louis, it's been two weeks, don’t you wanna know how Harry is? Has this hatred taken over so fast?" Liam inquired, knowing the hit a nerve.

"You know what, Liam? I'm not going to have this conversation with you." Louis said decisively, turning his back to his friend ready to go to his class.

But life is never fair, is it? When he turned around he was face to face with Harry in the middle of the hallway. The two stared at each other. Do I hate him? Louis wondered as he watched Harry's eyes fill with tears and seem to be begging for something. He preferred to ignore the pang in his chest and the urge to comfort the boy in front of him. He lowered his head and continued on his way.

Or the one that Louis is a WitchHunter and Harry is a Witch and they keep it as a secret, but they fall in love.

♥ practice in pencil, seal it in pen by loubellies @loubellies | 16k | E

AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending pleaseor Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

♥ plant new seeds by glitterhaz @cloudslou | 44k | TUA

Harry nods, not trusting his words. Slowly, he crawls under the covers of his bed, all too aware that Louis is doing the same, so close to him. Initially, he faces his desk, not looking at Louis, but after a few minutes he gets uncomfortable and turns over. Now, he’s only a foot from Louis’ face, and Louis has turned around too.

He doesn’t think Louis is asleep already, and it's confirmed when Louis’ eyes blink open sleepily. Harry looks at Louis, and Louis looks at him. Really looks.

“Can you see me?” Louis whispers.

Harry doesn’t understand the question, not really, but nods anyway. “Yeah, I see you,”

**Louis works at a lonely community garden, Harry is the upstanding fraternity man who makes it all feels a little less lonely. Over the course of a semester, that is.

♥ Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You by PearlyDewdrops | 44k | E

Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it's caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he'll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he's ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis.

But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though.

Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green's, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything.

♥ if it kills me by you_explode | 110k | M

Harry and Louis have worked together in a difficult office environment for six years. They're best friends; Louis is the bright spot of all of Harry's days. But Louis is in love with Harry, and Harry's engaged to someone else. And that's only the beginning.

The Office AU. More or less follows the first five seasons. A lot of pining and misunderstanding the depth of feelings and rejection and angst, until there isn’t.

♥ In This Light by exhilarated | 99k | E

Harry is a wardrobe stylist who likes to live in the moment, and Louis is a popstar who looks dreamy in double breasted jackets. Harry never stood a chance.

♥ smell the sea, feel the sky by lightswoodmagic @lightwoodsmagic | 16k | E

They’d been planning this beach trip for months, stressing around work schedules and engagement parties, trying to find the perfect place to stay in and a time where there wouldn’t be families everywhere but the weather still perfect. Louis had spent what felt like hours researching and planning, dinners with Zayn and his boyfriend at their house that just ended in looking at places and sending them to Niall. He’d been looking forward to it for weeks, getting away from his job and his bullshit neighbours and the noise of the city.

It seemed ridiculous, really, that in all that time, Zayn hadn’t mentioned once that Harry was coming.

Or, Louis doesn't know how he's going to spend a week with the one person he wants and can't have. Harry proves him wrong.

♥ This Shifting Ground by zarah5 | 28k | M

University AU. In which Louis, law student, is the cheeky waiter to Harry’s dates. This is how it starts.

♥ No One Like You by myownspark | 19k | M

Dear Niall,I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

♥ across city skyline (and straight through my heart) by Halos_Boat @halohamilton | 76k | M

Louis Tomlinson meets Hollywood Heartthrob, Harry Styles when he walks into Louis' little bakery one day.

Immediately, Louis is charmed by him and Louis thinks Harry might feel the same way, given the fact that Harry has visited the bakery everyday since he'd come to town.

Until one day, Harry walks in with a boyfriend under his arm and a smile on his face.

The one where Louis owns a small bakery that's well known in his town and Harry Styles is an actor who comes to town to film a new movie. Louis is endeared by him, but that doesn’t seem to matter since Harry Styles is already taken.

♥ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore | 113k | M

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

♥ Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds | 88k | NR

“If you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have many friends,” Louis whispers, the blossom of insecurity in his stomach unfurling and clawing its way into his throat.

Harry is silent for a long time, and then he speaks; a soft, slow uncurl that makes Louis’ stomach shake. “I’ll be your friend.”

- 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

♥ Nicotine by KrisStylinson | 42k | E

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

"Just because you can get me hard doesn't mean I like you," Louis whispered. The fact was, he didn't like Harry right now, not at all. Not even a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry murmured, his breath fanning over Louis' cock as he spoke. "You done telling me how much you hate me so I can suck you off?"

♥ California Sold by isthatyoularry | 123k | M

Notoriously closeted boyband member Harry Styles is famous on a global scale, meanwhile Louis, as his best friend, is back home in Manchester, living the typical life of a 24 year old. When Harry needs Louis with him in LA, a publicity stunt gone wrong changes their friendship forever.

A fake-relationship AU between two lifelong best friends.

—————

if you feel like you need more, don’t hesitate to ask me :)

#friends to lovers #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource #hljournal #hlsource #my fic rec #larry fic rec #themed fic rec #long post #this a REAL LONG POST #sorry but yk...#fics can't wait heheh #when I was looking for fics through what I have read I noticed this is one of those tropes I barely read #but I’m always willing to read :)#hope it helps:D #ask #louisloverera

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raindownforme · 3 years

Text

Theater Kid

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

It wasn’t odd for me to be left alone in the big open space. Most nights I was there into the late hours when my teachers were too tired to remember I was there. But tonight they’d actually forgotten, so I busied myself by sweeping the giant black stage. The push broom had been left near the side lighting panel, so I chose a few flood lights to turn on to better see the flooring. The lightbulbs hummed to life above me and I went back to take center stage as a starting point. I turned to look towards the house but, as I stared out into the seats, I saw someone standing who hadn’t been there before.

“You turned the fucking floods on.” His voice echoed across the near empty space and I shushed him as quickly as possible. Fucking actors always having to be the loudest.

“Jesus Christ Theodore shut up. Haven’t you ever done this before?”

“No. I don’t stay after school cleaning like a weirdo.”

“Well you’re here. And I’m not a weirdo! It’s a shared space. If anything you should appreciate me.”

I watched as he awkwardly picked up his backpack and walked down the aisles towards me. He stood at the foot of the stage, staring up at me, which wasn’t that much of an angle for him. He was an abnormally tall person, especially for a highschool student. Of course it only added to the strange charismatic spell he held over almost everyone else in our shared department, and I hated it. I hated the way he never talked to me but talked to everyone else. I hated the way he would sit on the desks and the tables in the classroom and the makeup room and on the edge of the stage and when he caught me looking he would give me this wide, crooked smile. I hated how loud his stupid improv club was that he got to lead was because he was the only student good at it. I hated how I spent every day inside the workshop and the prop hallway and the sound booth and the set alley and the lighting booth and he never payed a bit of attention to it. It was everyone else but me. And even knowing how close I’d gotten to being the stage manager, I knew I’d always be one peg under him.

“Did you hear me?”

I blinked myself out of my angry thoughts, trying to catch up with the real world. “I’m sorry?”

“I said you don’t have to call me Theodore. Ted is fine.”

“Oh.” I rolled my shoulders back unsure of what was the appropriate next step. “Well my name is-“

“y/n I know.” He cut me off. I stared at him in confusion, simply having assumed he didn’t know who I was. “We have like five classes together. We’ve done every production together since freshman year. You’re the one in charge when I come to set days. I sit across from you in the makeup room during lunch. And I know you do all your homework at the director’s desk.”

I stared at my feet as I felt my face flush. It felt like I couldn’t make words. It didn’t make sense that this guy I thought was a prick for the last three years knew me? But I knew that I liked him knowing me. And that was the worst part; I’d been fine with thinking he didn’t know me and didn’t want to because it gave me a name to whatever this feeling was. And now I don’t know. I looked back towards him, trying to think of anything to say. “You don’t care about tech.”

“I- what?” I couldn’t tell if he was angry or confused, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. Staring at him again I noticed the strange tint to his face, which seemed to be turning pinker by the second. I could see my reflection in his glasses and I realized how awkward of an angle we were at.

I bent down on my knees to meet his eye level. “You don’t care about tech. You’re the guy who’s a lead character and comes to rehearsal just to fuck around when you’re not needed act all high and mighty when really you never do anything.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if thinking, and then slapped his bag down on the stage near my feet. “Give me a fucking broom.”

We spent the next while peacefully sweeping up the stage. At some point I switched to the nail detector (which was really a long stick with a magnet on the end) and began going around the edges and crevices to try and find anything. We crossed paths a couple times, shoulders brushing together or brooms clinking.

Eventually I had passed him just enough that he stopped me in my tracks. He grasped my forearm gently, but I stared at his hand. I didn’t seem to want him to let go. “Here.” He took an AirPod out of his ear and handed it to me.

“Ooooh fancy actor boy has AirPods.”

“Literally shut up and appreciate me.�� I smiled as I walked towards the trash can. I didn’t know what was playing, but it seemed like some indie bullshit I probably would have admitted to liking if it wasn’t coming from Th- Ted.

I sighed as I leaned the broom against the wall. “I think we’re done here. I can put away the broom in the morning if you don’t know where it goes.”

“I got it.” I watched as he took the trash can under one arm and the broom to the designated little outcropping in the workshop.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you in here.”

“Eh.” He shrugged and stood up straight to look down at me better. “Freshman year someone smacked me straight across the face with a roller. Worst acne I’ve ever had.”

“Oh. Ouch. Still on the handle?”

“Nope.”

“Wet or dry?”

“Wet. With paint. Fresh paint.”

“Ooh. What color?”

“Forest green.”

“Euch. Nasty.” I chuckled as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. It wasn’t uncommon for this part of the school to be the coldest, especially surrounded by walls of exclusively concrete and a single garage door, and the seasons still changing as we neared the end of winter. I felt a shiver run through my spine, and Ted looked at me funny.

“Is it cold in here?”

“For some of us.”

“Here.” Ted shrugged off the heavy bomber jacket he had been wearing and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm on the inside, much warmer than I’d been expecting. It almost fit, but I guess his torso and arms were just slightly larger than mine. I looked back to him to say thank you but instead he was staring at me with this dumb look. He was smiling and his head was tilted slightly, and his face was pink again, but darker this time. I felt my face heat up as we stared at each other.

“We should leave.”

He seemed to snap back to reality. “Right. Yeah no right god it’s- what time?” He flicked his wrist out to move his sleeve in order to see his watch. Of course the pretentious bitch wore a stupid watch. “It’s like 6. I guess it’s eating time.”

I nodded and walked back out towards stage left, Turing off all the lights except for our single ghost light that had to sit center stage. It cast a hazy shadow over everything. I watched Ted walk towards center where the lightbulb stood. He started to reach for his bag but I heard the song change in the AirPod. He made eye contact with me as a slow waltzy song moved through my ear. He extended a hand to me and I tentatively reached for it. His hands felt good in mine. They were soft but worn, I and I could clearly feel the lines that ran through his palms and his fingers.

He took one of my hands in his and his other hand placed itself gently on my waist. “Have you ever waltzed before?” His voice was low and raspy, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I whispered back, “no.” He began to shuffle us around, pulling me left and right and pushing away and pulling me. I felt surrounded by the way he smelled and the way he held me gingerly, like a glass figurine. I stared down at my feet as to not step on him, but he took the hand that was holding mine to gently lift my chin up.

“It’ll be easier if you look up at me. I know you can hear the rhythm.” He began to hum the song as we continued to move. The song began a flourish ending as he threw me out in a twirl, then pulling me back in to his arms. I felt him dip me to the ground as the ending came. I let my self dangle, my head up side down, staring at the ground, then gently lifted my face back upwards. Ted was mere centimeters away from me. I could feel his breathing on my neck.

“Ted. I should-“

“Yeah. No no I know. Yeah.” He lifted me up slowly until I was sure I was flat on the floor. I grabbed my backpack, holding the straps.

“Do you want your jacket-?”

“Keep it. I can get it back tomorrow.”

“Today’s Friday.”

“Right. Monday then.”

I nodded and walked towards the door. I could hear his heavier footsteps behind me, gaining quick due to his longer legs. The door clicked shut behind us, and the cool February air rushed through my skin and hair. I watched Ted take a keychain out from the pocket of his back pack. He looked at me and frowned.

“Did you drive or do you have a ride?”

“Oh yeah. No they’ll uh. They’ll be here in a bit.” I dropped my bag and sat on the curb with it on my lap to try and stay warm. Ted’s jacket was lovely but not lovely enough.

I heard Ted drop his bag and watched as he took a seat next to me. He looked over at me. “What? I’m not gonna leave a pretty girl out alone at 7 at night in the winter. Besides my parents probably think I’m at the game anyways.”

Now that he mentioned it, I could hear the sound of cheering and drum line off in the distance.

Did he call me pretty?

We both waited on the curb for probably another 10 minutes before he started talking again. “There’s no one coming is there?”

“Ted-“

“I never see you leave because you always leave last. After anyone who could possible give you a ride has left. You’re one of those kids.”

“I’m sorry one of those kids?”

“No I didn’t-“ he exhaled and closed his eyes. “You don’t have anyone waiting for you. So you just walk.” We were both quiet for a moment, taking in the cold as it burned your skin. Ted stood up and extended a hand to me. “Get in the car.”

“Im sorry what?”

“Get in my fucking car. I’m not going to leave you to get kidnapped on the way home so you’re coming with me to get food.”

“See now this feels like kidnapping.”

“Oh my GOD get in the car.”

I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of his car, looking at the very minimal personalization that had been done: a couple stickers on the back window and a glasses case in the center cup holder. I watched as he reversed out of the parking spot, extending his arm against my seat to better turn around. I did my best not to stare, but I wasn’t sure what else to look at. He stopped before going into drive, asking if I didn’t mind McDonald’s even if there was a long line.

“Sure. It’s not like there’s someone waiting on me.”

He frowned at my response, but nonetheless kept on driving. “Well, there’s also a Dairy Queen, Sherri’s, maybe a Taco Bell-“

“Sherri’s.”

He glanced over at me with a confused look. “Really??”

“Come on, you know sitting in a dirty trashy restaurant at night is the total teenage coming of age moment.”

“Yeah but a Sherri’s? The food isn’t even good enough to justify.”

“You only say that because you haven’t tried those loaded hash browns.” I jokingly placed a hand on his shoulder, but I felt him tense at the contact. I retracted my hand and he sighed, moving to turn on his right blinker.

Ted swiveled his head to check for passing cars, but he grinned at me as we made less than a second of eye contact. I turned my head away towards the window next to me, trying to swallow whatever heat was rising towards my cheeks. I watched us pass cars and headlights as we approached the poorly lit parking lot. I jolted as ted’s plastic bumper lightly scraped the ground. He mumbled something under his breath as he pulled into a spot.

“I hate this stupid lot. Always scratch something coming in.” He unbuckled his seat belt and got out quicker than I expected. I went to unbuckle and get out but as I reached for the door handle, Ted opened it for me from the outside.

“Oh.” I stared at him for a second and he grinned at me.

“I know. Such a gentleman. Now get out of the car before I break your heart.” He winked at me, obviously joking, but I still felt my heart drop out of my chest.

“HA.” I pushed him away from me gently, but my fingers burnt at the touch.

I heard Ted shut the door behind me as I walked into the restaurant. There was really no one inside other than a group of kids tucked away in a booth in a far corner. I watched as the hostess approached me, saying I could sit in any table I wanted. I heard Ted walk in behind me and I turned to look at him, but he was staring at the group of kids in the corner.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Oh shit-“

“HEY. TED!” One of the kids started yelling at him from the booth. The other boys laughed at him as the maybe two or three other girls giggled. I looked between Ted and the boy, who seemed incredibly belligerent or under some sort of influence. He waved his arms in a wide span over his head, as if telling Ted where he was. “NIVISON! COME SIT OVER HERE! COME ON FUCK THE LOSER! GET OVER HERE.”

Ted looked at me, making a prolonged eye contact, then back to the kid. “No thanks! I’ll see you later.”

He linked arms with me and rushed over to the other side of the restaurant, tucking us into a small booth by the window. He said almost nothing, staring just out at the bushes. A waiter came by, dropping off two thick plastic menus.

“Anything to drink?”

Ted mumbled, but I was sure the waiter wasn’t able to hear. “Water for him please. And how much is a vanilla milkshake?”

“$2.50 for a small.”

“A small vanilla milkshake then. Please.” I smiled gently at him, and the waiter seemed to straighten himself a bit, more self assured than he had been two minutes ago.

“Of course. Right away.”

The waiter walked away and Ted stayed quiet. I slid my hand across the table towards him. “Theodore-“

“I’m not friends with Jake. I mean I was when we were younger.” He was looking me now. Well not exactly me, but my extended hand at least. “He joined the football team and some other sorts and we just stopped hanging out because of time. And he does still wear the lettermen’s jacket but....” he dropped his voice and leaned in, I copied and leaned closer to him. “He got cut from the team because he would show up drunk so now he goes to games just to drink under the bleachers and pick up cheerleaders from the other schools. He tells anyone who asks that he got a brain injury and can’t legally practice but still goes for support.”

“Oh my god.” I blinked, my voice still at a whisper. “That’s terrible.”

Ted nodded eyes wide. He looked over my shoulder, tapped my hand, and then sat up. I sat up too, assuming it was the waiter, but stared at how close his hand was to mine.

“Okayyyyy one ice water and one vanilla milkshake.” I moved my line of vision towards the drink set in front of me. It had the standard glass cup and whipped cream topping, but on top were red and pink heart-shaped sprinkles. I stared at it, and Ted must of noticed it as he took my hand firmly in his, lacing our fingers together on top of the table. The waiter stared at it.

“Hey I think we’re ready to order if you don’t mind.” Ted’s voice was louder than I expected as it took command of our whole corner of the restaurant.

“Uh yeah. What can I get you two?”

“You said you wanted the loaded hash browns, right babe?” He turned to me smiling, but I had no idea what he was thinking.

“Y-Yeah. Those are the ones.”

He gave me a giant goofy smile, and turned back to the waiter. “We’ll have two orders of that please. And an extra straw for this milkshake if you don’t mind?”

“Uh yeah. Coming right up.”

The waiter walked away and Ted sighed, relaxing his grip on my hand but not quite releasing it. “Fucking creep.”

“What?”

He looked back at me, confused. “You didn’t notice he was flirting with you? He put heart shaped sprinkles on your milkshakes.”

“I guess he’s not that good at it then.”

We sat in silence as I drank the thick vanilla shake. Ted cleared his throat and looked towards me. Our hands were still together.

“Well what can we talk about together?”

“I don’t know, theater kid shit?”

“Alright.” He though for a second. “Fine. Movie musicals.”

“Oh. Oh my god I hate the greatest showman.”

“No you don’t!”

“Yes I do! PT Barnum had no excuse to be an asshole and the whole thing is just him being an asshole to his family who somehow accepts him again.”

“I think if you have a shitty life you could have the right to be an asshole, and he wasn’t that bad! He loved his wife, and the music is good!”

“Okay some, some of the songs are good, and the whole kiss with the red head was totally not his fault. But just cause you have a shit home life doesn’t mean you can be an ass. I would think it would make you want to be nicer so other people don’t experience the same treatment, you know?”

Ted pauses, seeming to consider, then nods and moves to take a drink from his water.

We spent the next while talking about random topics: stories, tv shows, movies, books, anything. At some point the waiter came back and set the food down without a word. Ted released his hand from mine to grab his fork, and I stared at the place his fingers had been. My hand felt cold and unfamiliar as I set it closer to my plate. I ate slowly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, but Ted ate quicker than I thought he could.

“You were right these are delicious.”

“I told you, only good thing they have.”

I was probably close to finishing when the waiter came and slapped the receipt on the table. “We close in ten.”

As he walked away Ted chuckled. “It’s Sherri’s. They’re open 24 hours?”

I shook my head, smiling, as I dug around for some cash. I grimaced at the amount I had, realizing I would have barely two dollars left. I looked up, prepared to go broke, but Ted had already gotten up with cash in hand.

I reached out and grabbed on to his t-shirt as he walked towards the register. “Theodore, wait-“

“If I get to be your fake boyfriend I can pay for our fake date.” He smiled and continued walking. I rustled through all the small bills and coins I had. I was still holding them in my hands when he came back and sat down across from me.

“Y/N, i told you-“

“But, tip-“

“I got it. Finish your food.”

We sat in silence for a little longer, and as soon as I was done he stood up, shouldering the backpack I’d brought in with me. He stood next to me, holding out his arm towards me. I giggled as we linked arms and walked to the door. I made eye contact with the creepy waiter and watched as Ted flipped the guy off.

The air was cold as we exited the building. I probably would have shivered again if not for Ted’s jacket still around me. I used my free hand to pull it closed in front of me. We were silent getting into his car, but as he turned his key over to start the engine he looked to me and smiled.

“Thank you for an amazing fake first date.”

I laughed and felt a small heat rise to my cheeks. “You make an excellent fake boyfriend.”

He turned up the music as we pulled out of the parking lot. I could hear him scrape his bumper again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. “So, how do I take you home?”

“Oh. You don’t have to! I can just take the bus-“

“y/n. It’s late and it’s dark and it’s cold. Please let me take you home.” We were stopped at a red light, and we paused, staring just at each other. Ted’s face was bright red, and I’m sure mine was too. But even when the light turned green, his face was still red, and I’m sure mine still was.

A car behind us held a sustained honk, and Ted jolted out of his stupor and peeled out across the intersection. Of course Ted wasn’t a bad driver. He was a highschool driver, so he drove to look cool half the time. Meaning right now he was driving with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other arm rested against on top of the center console. I made the judgement call to reach over and take his free hand in mine. I did so loosely, allowing him to let go if he wanted to, but if anything he laced his fingers with mine tighter. I looked down at our hands, smiling, then back towards Ted’s face. He was smiling widely, but when he saw me looking he made a stupid attempt of trying to play it off and act like he wasn’t smiling, but I started laughing so he eventually fell into laughter with me. We didn’t talk much on the way to my house other than me giving directions every now and then. He didn’t let go of my hand the whole time, except when he had to put the car in park.

I stared out his window towards the front of my dark building. I knew no one was home, and it was probably pretty cold inside since I usually forget to turn on the heater before leaving for school.

“I guess this is me.” He watched me throw my bag over my shoulder as I stepped out of the car. “Thank you Theodore. For everything.”

“Ted.”

“What?”

“You can call me Ted.”

I smiled at him. “Right. Thank you. Ted.”

I shut his car door and walked up my sidewalk, but I turned when I heard another car door shutting behind me.

“y/n, wait.” Ted was walking towards me, hands shoved in his pockets as the giant man toward over me. “I, uh, I really enjoyed being your fake boyfriend tonight.”

“I enjoyed it too-“

“And I enjoyed sweeping the stage with you. And holding your hand. And dancing with you. And driving you home. And arguing over food. And laughing. And sharing music. And pretty much everything. And I don’t want it to be because I’m your fake boyfriend you happened to be on a fake date with because we happened to be in the same place at the same time.” He sucked in a breath as he took my hand gently. He stared at our fingers and palms pressed together. “I want to do all that stuff because I’m your real boyfriend. I want to dance with you and take you on dates to shitty diners and act all jealous because it’s real.”

I could feel my face burning. “You were jealous?”

He laughed a little bit. “Oh my God, yes, I was jealous, he was flirting!!” I laughed, gripping his hand a little harder, then pulling it downwards. “Ouch! What the-“

I placed a kiss on his cheek, and I watched him short circuit as his whole face turned red. “Theodore, I would like to let you know, I am free tomorrow night for a date if that’s what your asking.”

“OH. Okay! Yeah is 7 okay?”

“7 is perfect.”

“Yes! Yes yes!” He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head. “Oh my god! Okay. Tomorrow, 7!”

I laughed, still trapped in his arms. “I expect dancing.”

“Oh absolutely.” He pushed me back a bit, smiling as he stared at me. “I have to go home. I have to get ready!”

“For a date in 24 hours?”

“Yes! I have plans to make!” He kissed me on the forehead again and ran back to the car. Hand on the handle, he looked back at me, smiling. “I can’t wait.”

#ted nivision #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison

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ohtobeleah · 3 years

Note

I’m dying for some Odette Barnes content

PolkaDot Masterlist

Author Note: I really got carried away with this one.

Word count: 3k

The house was still, October leaves gently falling to the ground outside. Shades of orange and browns, dark green and amber reds. Bucky could smell the decay of forgotten leaves just outside the window. The early morning briskness creeping in through the crack in the window. Bucky inhaled a deep breath, his arms encapsulating the sleeping body that laid beside him. Tucked tenderly into the side of him. Bucky smirked as he peppered soft kisses against your cheek, leading down your neck towards the valley of your breasts. Invoking a low hum from the depth of your soul.

“Good morning beautiful.” Bucky whispered against your skin, coming back up to kiss your lips, soft and full of love. Your eyes yet to open—but you welcomed the presence of your husband with a soft smile. “Sleep okay?” His hand trailing down your torso—settling onto the swollen skin that was your baby bump. Second Barnes baby. This time? Planned and prepared for. Bucky secretly hoped for a baby boy, he’d been having this dream lately that he had a son—spitting image of him, his laugh already engraved into his soul. Brown hair and blue eyes. A smile innocence and soft. But he wouldn’t mind another daughter, Dot could have a sister to play with, perhaps that’s something he wouldn’t mind seeing. Watching over his three best girls.

“Your spawn wouldn’t stop moving, kicking my ribs all night long—but I guess it was okay.” Six months pregnant, in Bucky’s eyes you looked beautiful. His favourite part of his day was getting lost in the sight of you. Daydreaming, wondering how the fuck he ever got so damn lucky. Through everything you’d stuck by his side. He could feel the scares on your shoulder from bullets you’d taken for him. Now blessing him with his second child. Always putting your body on the line. He still couldn’t completely wrap his head around it. You sighed into Bucky’s shoulder. Eyes still closed. A yawn escaping from your mouth—contagious as Bucky mimicked the sound. “Beside, it’s the best day of the year.” You teased. Bucky signed, already over your bullshit. “It’s October 31st.” Halloween. Bucky wasn’t against Halloween—he just didn’t get the hype. He adored the way it was your favourite holiday, he’d come home each day to more and more decorations, your smile bright and beautiful. He especially loved the string of LED orange pumpkins that hung from the headboard of your shared bed.

“Okay so what’s the game plan?” Bucky cooed into your shoulder, still pepping soft kisses as you nuzzled into him. The coldness of his vibranium arm sending shivers up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A feeling you’d become accustomed to over the years—expecting the contrast against the warmth of your skin.

“I need you to do school drop off this morning, I’ve got an extra class to fill for Miss Frankston.” You explained. “Tenth grade history.” voice soft and groggy against Bucky’s skin.

“You teach phys ed—“ Bucky interrupted. He had a thing about you teaching history, knowing you did it just to spite him in the most loving way. You ignored his little groans, sinking further into his chest.

“Odette will wanna go trick or treating the second she gets home so I’ll make sure there’s at least a pb&j cut up waiting for her.”

“What’s she going as? Has she decided yet?” You’d been telling Bucky for weeks now Odette had been tossing up between Cinderella or Snow White, the little girl having an abundance of dress ups in her costume box. But Dot had made her own mind up a while ago—you’d promised her, the fiery five year old that you loved so much that you wouldn’t say a word. Dot wanted it to be a surprise.

“Im sure she’ll decide by the end of the day, I’ve got enough costume makeup there to complete whatever look she desires.” It was like clockwork, blame it on intensified hearing passed down from her enhanced father. Odette Barnes was stumbling in to your bedroom within a second of hearing her own name. Bucky hid under the covers as she padded her feet along the carpet, around to his side of your bed. Pulling herself up with sleepy eyes and a mess of childish bed hair.

“Morning sweetheart.” You chuckled, watching her pull back the covers to reveal a sleeping Bucky, faking loud obnoxious snores. His mouth so wide it could catch flys. Jumping up with wide eyes and a bellowing raw erupting from his throat—throwing his arms around his daughter to bring her in and down to his chest. Bucky’s back bouncing off the mattress as his worked to invoke those beautiful laughs he could listen to all day, tickling her sides as she did so. Wiggling between the pair of you—screaming and laughing her head off until Bucky was satisfied. Letting his back fall against the bed head with a huff. Slicking his hair back from his forehead.

“Morning Dot.” Bucky beamed.

“Morning Dadda.” Odette rubbed her eyes tiredly. Sitting between you and Bucky as she fell gently to your belly. Her head resting softly on your bump. “Morning Mumma.”

It was the usually routine of a morning, Odette would make her way down the hallway to yours and Bucky’s room—she’d tell you both about her night, the dreams she had. She’d beg for breakfast till Bucky’s heart gave out—walking her down the hall to the kitchen on his hip. Placing her down on the kitchen bench while she watched him make her a bowl of Cheerios, oat milk and all. Half a banana chopped, and some blueberries on top. He’d help her down and watch her carry it to the dining table, where she’d sit and eat and watch her parents interact. Her personal romantic comedy.

“Ahh—the smell alone is making me feral Buchanan, please step back.” You teased, Bucky loved the way you’d call him Buchanan playfully. He smirked against his coffee cup. Steaming hot with caffeine. He knew you craved the addictive liquid.

“You can have caffeine!” He laughed, watching you grab the bottle of orange juice from the side of the fridge. “I don’t understand why you won’t allow yourself just one coffee, 200 milligrams! You’re allowed it Syrella—“

“I won’t be able to stop after just one, no, I’ve been doing fine without it! It’s just I know you used my white chocolate syrup I can smell it on your breath Buck.” Bucky once again hid his smirk behind his coffee mug. Leaning against the kitchen island. Immersed in the world of your daily struggles to fight the addiction you had with caffeine. A whole nine months cold turkey would be good for you. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Not until ten.” Bucky eyed you off as you gestured if he wanted toast or not, nodding in response he again took a sip of his coffee. Watching you put down four pieces of bread into the foster. Two each.

“And where exactly is the law enforcement liaison officer working today?” You teased. Bucky’s arm smacking around your waist as he kissed your neck.

“just the NYPD, nothing too fancy, laying low—just doing my part.” Bucky liked his job, but it came with obvious dangers. There would always be people who’d come looking for him, or there’d be people he had to go looking for. Sam was usually the one who’s hold him back from the edge whenever he’d panic and think it was all to much—he couldn’t put you in danger. His family. His kids. Sam was always there to screw his head back on straight.

“El would be lost without you Buck, she knows the risks involved and yet she still loves your dumb ass.” It was always Sams voice on Bucky’s shoulder. “For better for worse man you promised her that, she’s on your left man.”

“Yeah well—remember, trick or treating! You and Dot! So I want that arm shined by tonight.” You teased, knowing Bucky wouldn’t go as anything else but himself.

“You know you’re really awful now right?” You chuckled as the toast popped, passing Bucky his two slices. “You’ve changed.” Bucky teased.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in check Buchanan, besides.” You held up your left hand, Bucky’s eyes falling to the ring on your finger. “You’re stuck with me.” Bucky didn’t wear his wedding band much. Too scared to loose something so important to him. If he did—it was around his neck, hanging from dog-tags. However there was a thick tattooed band spanning the circumference of his right ring finger. A symbol of love he could never remove. Ink etched into skin. Having to settle for his right hand because well—you can’t tattoo vibranium.

“C’mon Dot, I gotta get you ready for school before drill sergeant Ardecker has an aneurysm.” Bucky teased. Biting his freshly buttered toast as he winked your way. You shoed him off, biting your own piece of toast as you watched Bucky throw Odette over his shoulder, spinning her around as she giggled. “What are you gonna wear today? I’m thinking overalls missy.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Okay!” You clapped your hands together before your left gently came to rest on your bump. “Who can tell me about the battle of Finow?” You asked the tenth graders before you. Not a thought behind any of there eyes. “Nobody?” You asked. “C’mon guys, Miss Frankston will wanna know that you at least tried. Work with me here.” You sat against the teachers desk. Dress falling loosely around your legs, tickling your calves as your feet throbbed.

“It wasn’t a battle at all—“ a voice piped up from the back corner, a sheepish voice. “It was an accident, midnight oil created accidentally by Howard Stark.” You smiled as you pointed to the kid in the corner.

“Thank-you—?”

“Elliot.”

“Yes, right, thank-you Elliot! It wasn’t meant to occur at all.” You began your explanation into the battle of Finow. “It was a disaster, allied forces accidentally—“

“Mrs Barnes?” A young man in the front row raised his hand. Defeating the purpose when he spoke over you, catching your attention mid sentence. You raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to speak. “You’re married to Sargent Barnes aren’t you?” You chuckled, a soft smile you couldn’t control creeping over your face. You nodded in response.

“I am.”

“Majority of us are working on our major projects, he’s our study point, it would be really cool if we could just like—talk with you about him?” The entire class erupted. Agreeing with the student who’d interrupted the flow of your class. “We never get this chance miss, please?” He begged. You pressed your tongue to the side of your cheeks. Arms crossing over your chest as you sat down at the desk. Looking at the kid in the front row who’s eyes were pleading with you. Pen already pressing to his notepad.

“What’s your name?”

“Noah.” He responded. You eyed him down for a moment—letting his still unanswered question Linger in the air.

“Alright, Noah—what do you guys wanna know.” The entire class clapped, never had you ever seen a class so ready to participate. you couldn’t help but to laugh softly to yourself. Twirling your wedding band around your finger. You loved your job.

“How exactly did Sargent Barnes survive the fall? It says he fell from a train but it doesn’t specify how he managed to survive?”

“You guys for this specific class only can refer to Sargent Barnes as Bucky—there’s no need for me to talk about my husband in such a serious way, and uh—well if your studying Bucky you would all know about Arnim Zola, correct?” You watched as a few kids wrote down the name, committing it to memory. “Well he’d been working on his own version of the super soldier serum, unfortunately—Bucky had already been expose to that specific serum when the 107th was captured, so when he fell it’s what kept him alive.”

“But didn’t Steve Rogers rescue him and the rest of the 107th?” Another voice asked. You nodded in response.

“He’d already been exposed.” It was the nicest way you could tell a bunch of teens that your husband had been tortured and experimented on. “Any more questions?” You asked. Watching as the entire class stuck their hands to the sky. Desperately hoping you’d pick them next. You let out a gentle sigh as you rubbed your belly, feeling your little one kick. It was gonna be a long day.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Ow!” Bucky felt your hand slap against his—swatting him away as he tried to sneak a bit of the pb&j you were making for Odette.

“Not for you.” You hissed playfully. Bucky huffed as he stuck his head into the fridge, pulling out the rest of the banana that had yet to be devoured. Left over from Dots breakfast. “You ready?”

“Am I ever really ready for trick or treating?” Bucky sighed. Snarking at you as you crinkled your nose his way. “One hour, that’s it, I’ll take her up past Bowing Avenue—they hand out full sized candy bars.”

“You’ve got it all figured out don’t you Sargent Barnes.” Bucky felt his heart skip a beat or two, the wires in his vibranium arms malfunctioning slightly. Like you’d given him a small heart attack.

“You never call me that.”

“Hmm?” You questioned.

“Sargent Barnes—you called me Sargent Barnes.”

“Oh did I? Hmm—well, I guess it’s still ping ponging around in my head, that class I took for Miss Frankston this morning, majority of them are doing their major projects on you—just helped them out a little with some questions they wanted answered.” Bucky raised a brow in curiosity.

“Like what?”

“Oh you know, the usual, just things kids are too lazy to look up in history books.” Bucky chuckled to himself.

“The fact I’m in the history books and my wife is teaching the next generation about me is insanity—I hate that.” Bucky childishly pointed a finger at you as he walked away with half a chewed banana in his mouth. Mumbling around mush. “Don’t teach about me anymore!” You laughed. You couldn’t help it—it always got Bucky so flustered that you were such a nerd for him. Bucky’s feet stopped at the threshold of his daughter’s room, he’d caught the sight of her dressed in her Halloween costume. Expecting to meet Cinderella or Snow White—but his heart absolutely melted when he saw the silver and gold sleeve on her left arm.

“And who are you supporting to be?” He asked, crouching down behind Odette before she turned around. Her smile beaming at Bucky. He raised her arm in front of her face to protect herself as Bucky faked a small punch her way. Stopping his hand in its path. Slow motion.

“I’m you Dadda, see?” Bucky could barley stop the tears from welling in his eyes. ”matching.”

“Matching sweetheart.” Bucky crocked. “Matching—Syrella!” Bucky called out. His voice echoing down the hall as you brought in the freshly cut sandwich. “Did you put her up to this?” Bucky asked as he stood. Blocking your pathway.

“She’s the little mastermind, she made me promise not to tell you, wanted it to be a surprise.” Passing the plate down to Odette as she walked back to her dollhouse. Bucky’s hands came to cup your face. Still standing in the threshold of his daughter’s bedroom. “You’re her hero.” Leaning in to kiss you softly as you hummed in response. Bucky’s lips moulding with yours. Enjoying the taste of you.

“If I hadn’t already married you I marry again.” You bit your bottom lip softly. The heat in your cheeks probably noticeable against the palms of Bucky’s hands.

“Have fun tonight, Dots really excited okay, just enjoy the moment.” Bucky smirked as he looked down at his daughter.

“She’s everything.” He thought allowed. Holding you tight as you took in the scent of Bucky. Still dressed in his work clothes. His costume for the night. Himself, total authenticity.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Odette held Bucky’s hand in one and her bucket of candy in the other. The small plastic pumpkin near full to the brim. She was getting tired. The excitement of it all finally wearing her down. Overloaded, Bucky gave in to temptation and popped a chocolate into his mouth, picking up his daughter as they walked home. Absolutely loaded with sweets.

“You doing okay there Dot?” Bucky asked as he felt Odette rest her head on Bucky’s shoulder. Her eyes heavy.

“How come you have a metal arm Dadda.” Bucky held his heart completely stop for a moment, he’d thought about having to explain his life one day. But for now he’d settle for a very mild explanation. Odette was only five. A few more years and he’d take her to the Smithsonian, show her who he was. When she was old enough to comprehend what he’d been forced to be he’d tell her. Tonight however was not that night.

“I lost it in an accident, but some people knew how to fix me, gave me a new one.” Bucky was referring to the arm he had now. Never the one he was first given. The one that dawned a red star.

“Did it hurt?” Dot asked softly as Bucky’s feet his the pavement one step after another. He shook his head.

“No sweetheart, it didn’t.” He lied. He remembered every bit of pain. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“Can you feel me?” Odette Barnes was a clever girl, she had inherited Bucky’s ability to heal a lot faster then others. She inherited his ability to hear things clearer, she’d inherited his speed. Bucky hoped one day she’d run track and field. A sure winner in his eyes. But most importantly she’d inherited kindness—not from Bucky, he’d never take credit for such a trait. He knew that was all you. Her hand coming out to reach for Bucky’s vibranium hand, he held it up to hold her gently.

“I can always feel you Dot.” He cooed. He couldn’t exactly explain the feelings, he felt the weight of his daughters hand in his. But it wasn’t touch. The same as his right. “If you wanna see something really spooky when we get home I can show you how I take it off.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows.

“Your arm!!” Odette gasped in excitement. “You can do that? How!?” She beamed. Bucky chuckled. Holding Dot on his hip tight as he caught sight of you sitting on the front porch—handing out candy.

“Magic Dot.” Bucky smirked. Just full of admiration for his family. A life he thought he’d never live. “Nothing but magic.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #ohtobeleah #marvel mcu #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fic #tfatws #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes series

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stvrs13 · 3 years

Text

" I love her but she hates me "

summary: Ellie and y/n have been enemies for 2 years but they secretly have feelings for each other.

warnings: a lil smut maybe nothing to serious ( help-) , swearing

a/n: alright this is my first smut and im new to writing so no judgements! 🙌

You were walking on the snow when you saw a beanie, you picked it, realizing it belongs to the one and only ellie, your ex bestfriend, your enemy, and of course the one you have secretly have feelings for.. you sigh, debating whether or not to give it back to her but it all answers when you walk towards the corner of the street on her direction, you waved awkwardly. " hey ellie, uh i found this on the snow. " you said nervously. she glanced at dina and back to you with a serious look on her face. " what a joke " she said while getting her beanie off of your hands with a super human speed. she then walk away and dina follows her, leaving you standing on your position. mental facepalm! this was a bad idea, you thought to yourself.

You walked towards your best friend who was sitting on a bench playing with her fingers, Nancy, you sat beside her. " what happened? did she said something to you again? " she said. " uh its not biggy just found her beanie that's all. " you said, slightly frowning. Nancy notices it and asked, " hey you good there? " " actually can we talk about something? somewhere private? " you said, making an eye contact with your fav person (oh really? 😉) across you, there stood Ellie so close to Dina. You immediately lost it and walk away with your bestfriend following you.

You went at the back of a coffee shop and you both sat on the snow under a tree, looking at the dark skies, " so what's up? " she said. You started crying, tears fell free on your cheeks. " oh my gosh, are you okay? " she asked, worried. " its just that- " you hid your face on your knees, " i can't deny it, its always been her, its always. " you whisper the last part. " what do you mean? " nancy asked. " i love her nancy, i do and i just dont wanna do it anymore, i tried letting her go but fuck i cant, i cant stop thinking about her! every time i see her, i felt anger and hurt but also butterflies over my stomach, fuck this. why in the world im the only person inlove with my enemy! i hate this, but i just gotta accept the truth that she hates me, i love her but she hates me. " you said with a shaky voice. Nancy just rub your back, making you feel comfortable, she has nothing to say. to surprise to say something.

" holy fuck " ellie whispered under her breath, she was hiding behind the wall. joy filling her heart.

- 2 years ago -

" cat! look at this. " you said while standing outside the balcony. cat went into your direction. " woah " cat said with a wide eyes. you both saw a beautiful view of the mountains. " its pretty " " i know rig- " just before you could finish your sentence

a stalker came out of the other door and push you to the railings. you stabbed it with your pocket knife but its still alive, it keeps pushing you harder on the railing, " cat help me! " you yell. cat tried to stab it with her switchblade but before she could stab it, the stalker push you down, you hold onto cat but you three fall off the balcony. " shit!! " you yell. you land on your back while cat land on her elbow. the stalker was above you, you stab it again and again until you heard a gunshot, the bullet hit on the stalker's head. it falls on your side, leaving you breathless. you looked at cat who's trying hard to stand and you looked at the person who shot the stalker's head, its ellie. you quickly got up and help cat up. as she stands up, she wince. " my elbow broke " she winced again. ellie walks towards the both of you and says, " what the fuck y/n?! " she practically yells at you. you stood there, nothing to say until you felt a fist on your face. Ellie punched you. you were in shocked but you ran away and ride on your horse. " fuck you!! " ellie yells. Ellie and Cat followed you, ellie is mad at you right now even though cat telling her its not your fault. As you arrived at jackson, you wiped away the tears and the blood dripping on your nose. You dismounted your horse and take it back to the stables. You pet your horse awhile and as you turn around, you were slammed on the ground.

" motherfucker! why did you pull her with you?! " ellie yells. " its not her fault ellie. " cat says. " i- im sorry i didn't mean to- " " bullshit " ellie was about to punch you again when maria and joel stop her. tommy helps you up, blood dripping your nose and a black eye. great. tears falling down from your eyes as ellie look at you with anger in her green eyes. maria, cat and ellie went into maria and tommy's office to talk. while joel and tommy helps you clean your face. once you were done, you three went to maria, joel and tommy left the room and now its all four of you confronting. ellie,cat,maria, and you. you felt hurt, and sad. You talked about what happened and of course ellie sometimes yells at you and maria had to stop her. as the talk went cleared. Ellie can't stop staring at you, your nervous. she has a blank face when she stares at you, Ellie wanted to talk to you, apologizing for being a dick but she's stubborn but also afraid of you rejecting her. So she just did nothing and hid on her corner. She also felt a hole in her heart for you make her feel someting more than friends even though she had a girlfriend. And that, you two never talk, hangout and even maria doesn't let you both go on patrol together so you both were hiding on your corners.

- end of flashback -

" are you sure ellie? i dont think she wo- " ellie cuts maria off by saying, " i dont care maria, just tell her we're paired for patrol. " she demands. maria just sighs in defeat as she nods. Ellie then prepares herself for patrol and something 😉

- afternoon -

" hey maria, you need me to go on patrol? " you asked. " yes and actually you'll be paired with ellie. " she hesitantly said that. You looked behind maria to see ellie leaning against the wall staring at you. " but- " " no buts, you both will go to the mountain over there. " she point out the small mountain. you sighed, why us? you thought to yourself. Maria then nods at ellie and said " keep safe " to the both of you. When she disappears, you look at ellie who is staring at you, you brought out a shy smile. she just nods then walk towards shimmer (ellie's horse) as you do the same. You both got up on your horses and went out from jackson. the entire time was quiet, it disturbs you, its so uncomfortable, its weird, you wanna get back to jackson- you were cut off of your thoughts by ellie saying " check in is inside that cabin. " you looked at her with a kind smile. she blushes, she what?! maybe just the cold wind making her face a little red. You both stay in silent until you reach a small cabin. You got off from your horse while ellie ties shimmer in a tree, you did what she did. She opens the small cabin and it reveals a cozy living room, you took both of your jackets into the couch and you look around admiring the living room while ellie was busy going somewhere inside the cabin. She saw 2 bedrooms in the hallway, she open the other one and it reveal a queen size bed, she smirked. " y/n.. come here " she growls. you walk towards the hallway, fear rising in you. what does she have to do now? you thought. you saw ellie standing on the door of a bedroom with her hand gripping the doorknob, you went inside and admire the beautiful bedroom until you heard the door slam shut. before you could even look at the door, ellie push you through the wall. gripping her hands on your waist tightly. she look into your e/c (eye color) and quickly looks at your lips, asking for permission. you slowly nod, at first you thought she was gonna kill you but oh boy your dreams are coming true. she smashed her lips onto yours, slipping her tounge on your lips, you moaned. it only fuel things up when ellie removed her upper buttons on her flannel, revealing her chest. it was a sloppy kiss, she practically throw you in the bed and got on top of you, she then kiss and suck your neck, leaving love bites, you moaned, feeling your clit throbbed under your jeans and ellie sucking your neck, gosh this is ethereal. " ellie.." she looks at you, her lips still on your neck " we cant do this. " you frowned. she stop and sits on her heels while you sat and leaned in the headboard. she looked at you, tears on your eyes, she sighs. " im sorry " you said weakly. " we shouldn't be doing this " your tears falling now on your cheeks. she put her hand on yours, you look at her, you got surprise when her eyes were filled with tears and sadness. " look y/n, i've heard what you said to nancy earlier and i can't deny that i felt the same way on you. " she paused. " but you hate me? " " actually no, this entire fucking years made me felt nothing but regret and guilt. i can't stop thinking about you, it drives me fucking crazy. " she said. you looked into her eyes again, fear and guilt shown in her gorgeous eyes. you can't believe it, ellie feels the same way. you smiled at her and said, " i love you ellie " realizing to what you said, " i love you too y/n, a lot. " she said with a wide smile on her face. " wanna finish what we've started earlier? " she smirked. you laughed and laid back while she got on top of you again, savouring every moment.

a/n: jeez that's idk anyway, sorry for not posting sooner, i've been a little busy on school and sometimes my lazy ass gets me. hope you enjoy this story! dont forget to like and reblogged for motivation 😹

@akami-senpai, @ellieswife, @gayerforelliewilliams 🌈✨

#ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou2 #tlou ii #the last of us part two #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou imagines

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m3kuroshirt · 3 years

Text

House of Assassins Part Two

Link to Part One

Word Count: 1588

Warnings: None

“Oi, Ichigo, your boyfriend is on the move!” Renji called from where he was sprawled across the couch.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Ichigo protested, but even so, he rose from his place at the table to take a look out the window. “Looks like he’s going for a walk.” Ichigo had a distant tone to his voice, as if completely unaware how infatuated he sounded. Renji snorted.

“Right. He’s not your boyfriend at all. Sure,” he replied. A bag of chips rustled as he grabbed a handful to munch on. Jinta felt his irritation rise with every crunch that Renji made as he chewed. He gripped his pencil tightly, but didn’t move otherwise. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. This was supposed to be his time with Ichi-nii, but that damn neighbour had interrupted it again. How was he so good at infringing on Jinta’s time with Ichigo when he wasn’t even in the same house as them? There was a muffled yelp and a thud, loud enough that it sounded like Renji hit the floor. Jinta aimed a glare at his math homework.

“Hey what’s wrong? Is the word problem really giving you that much trouble?” a voice asked. Jinta looked up to see Ichigo returning to the table. He let his glare fade into a pout.

“…no.”

Ichigo smirked and ruffled Jinta’s hair. “Then don’t glare so much.” He plopped himself back in the seat next to him. Jinta sighed through his nose. Ichigo chuckled softly. “Alright, let’s start it over again.”

***

Jinta wiped the counter over and over with the towel, not realizing it was already dry. He frowned as he thought more and more about the neighbour Ichigo seemed fascinated with. “Hey, Ururu,” he said abruptly, “what have you heard about Kisuke’s new neighbours?”

“Dad, Jinta. You can call him that, you know,” Ururu responded quietly. She was sweeping the floor. “And I haven’t heard much. Just that Ichigo really likes the blue-haired guy, and the green-haired lady sounds fun.”

“Hmph. I’ll call him ‘dad’ when he deserves it,” Jinta muttered. “And that’s not much information. If I wanted to know something so unspecific I could find that out on my own. I thought you girls talked about things like that. What did you even do with Orihime and Rukia all day?”

The trash can creaked as Ururu opened it to empty the dustpan. “We went shopping. We didn’t talk about the boys much at all, really.” She tapped the dustpan on the side of the garbage can to shake any excess dust and dirt loose. “Why are you so interested, anyway?”

“…Ichigo’s the best big brother. He always helps us and makes sure we’re safe and stuff. Plus, he’s the one who comes to see us the most when we’re at mom’s. Now it’s my turn to make sure he’s the safe one. Gotta make sure that blue-haired weirdo is good enough for him,” Jinta admitted, rubbing more furiously at the counter without realizing what he was doing. Ururu replaced the broom in the little closet behind the kitchen table.

“So, you’ll call Yoruichi ‘mom’, but you won’t call Kisuke ‘dad’?” she asked calmly. She adjusted her hair, brushing it out of her face and tying it up in a long ponytail. “And I think Ichigo is really capable of taking care of himself. At the very least, I don’t think he’d want a child to be the one watching out for him.”

“Mom is mom. And Kisuke is…” Jinta’s voice trailed off, and he realized finally that the countertop was dry. He didn’t finish the sentence but started folding up his towel.

“You know they’re still friends, right?” Ururu’s voice was softer than usual, but not timid. More like…gentle. Comforting. Jinta pursed his lips.

“Doesn’t mean mom doesn’t still cry on their anniversary,” he muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanna make sure that doesn’t happen to Ichi-nii.” Then he spun around and marched out of the kitchen. Ururu didn’t follow him. She gave a soft, sad smile at her brother’s big heart.

***

It was two in the morning. On a Tuesday. He had work in a few hours. I don’t have time for this bullshit, Grimmjow thought to himself as he stared down the intruder in his kitchen. The intruder, short with flaming red hair and a scowl on his face, glared back at him in silence. Grimmjow rubbed his temples. All he wanted was a glass of water. And when he’d turned on the lights he’d been surprised to find the young boy on his counter, looking through his cupboards.

“You have thirty seconds to start explaining,” he stated, looking the intruder dead in the eyes, “before I call the cops.” The intruder’s eyes widened. He leapt off the counter, hands up in submission.

“Please don’t! Don’t call the cops, I didn’t take anything, I swear!” the intruder babbled, and Grimmjow felt himself wince internally. The kid sounded even younger than he looked. Grimmjow sighed and pulled out a chair to sit in it. He gestured to one of the other chairs and the young intruder hesitantly sat in it.

“Talk.” It was a command, not an option.

“…I just wanted to see why Ichi-nii is so interested in you,” the young boy muttered. He tugged at his red hair nervously, eyes downcast. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.

“…who?”

At that, the boy looked up. “Ichigo. The neighbour?”

Grimmjow blinked. “Uh. Who are you? How do you know Ichigo? And why do you care what he thinks of me?” he asked, feeling a little annoyed that he still didn’t know what exactly was going on.

“…’m name’s Jinta. He’s my older brother! Well…step-brother. Sort of,” Jinta admitted. He kicked his legs, eyes back on the floor. “He’s a good person.” Then he aimed a glare at Grimmjow, body suddenly tensing as if ready to attack. “And I’m here to make sure you’re actually good enough for him and won’t hurt ‘im!” The declaration was a bit loud in the silence, and they both paused afterward, listening. No sounds came from above so Grimmjow assumed Nel was still asleep in her room.

With a roll of his eyes, he replied, “what, so you investigate all your brother’s friends like this?” Jinta shook his head.

“No, you dummy! He doesn’t wanna be your friend?”

“Hah?” Grimmjow could feel his irritation growing with every contradictory word the boy spoke. Until…

“He wants to date you!” As soon as the words were out, Jinta slapped both hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Grimmjow froze, eyes also wide, brain whirring and spinning but not actually producing any thought beyond ‘Ichigo’ and ‘date’. Sure, he’d noticed how pretty the other man was, had admired his strength when he assisted Grimmjow and Nel with moving in, and thought he was pretty chill on the few occasions they’d talked since. But…he’d never thought the other was interested in him. And now that the truth was out there…well now he found himself strangely drawn to the idea.

Sounds of sobbing brought him back to reality. “Please…Please don’t tell him I told you! Please act like you don’t know! I…He…he’ll be so sad if you stop talking to him because of this, and…and…and I don’t wanna make Ichigo sad! Please!”

“Woah, calm down…Jinta, right? Relax, I won’t, uh, won’t tell him anything, ok?” Grimmjow tried to soothe. Jinta’s sobs quieted and he sniffled.

“Promise?”

“Yeah. I promise.” Grimmjow looked over at the clock above the stove. “You really should go home now, ok? I can walk you over.” Jinta shook his head.

“No, we’ll get caught and I don’t have a good enough story for Kisuke to believe me,” he replied. He wiped his tears and snot on his sleeve. “I’ll climb back over the fence and go in through the basement window. Ururu’s there, she’ll let me in.” Grimmjow raised his eyebrows.

“If you’re sure, then.”

Jinta nodded. “Yeah, I’ve snuck out loads of times. I know what I’m doing.”

Grimmjow opted to keep from pointing out that Jinta had been caught this time. Instead, he just nodded and watched the boy as he left the house, scaled the fence, and dropped down on the other side. He couldn’t see anything more due to the fence in the backyard, but he hoped the boy made it inside as easily as he claimed. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his blue hair and turned to get what he originally came to the kitchen for: a glass of water.

Water acquired and drank, Grimmjow returned to his bed. Only to lay and stare up at the ceiling, replaying the strange meeting in his head. Or rather, one particular sentence. ‘He wants to date you’. Usually, Grimmjow wouldn’t think too hard about those kinds of things, but Ichigo seemed to be different from other people. He didn’t shy away when Grimmjow was gruff. When he helped them move, he took just as much physical work as Grimmjow did. He was strong. He was friendly. He had a smile as brilliant as the sun.

So, this time, Grimmjow let himself fantasize. In the gentle moonlight, it was easy to imagine things. He let his mind wander, wondering what it would be like to date Ichigo, to hold his hand, put his arms around the other. A soft warmth grew in his chest and he couldn’t stop the smile that stole across his face.

#grimmichi #jaegerjaquez grimmjow #kurosaki ichigo #m34gswrites #house of assassins #ch:ururu #ch:jinta #ch:renji #found family

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