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#play golden by harry styles :(

seventies-arcana · 9 months

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PAC: what type of lover do you attract?

hello lovies, i hope this reading reaches you well. in this pac reading, you will find out what type of lover/romantic partner you naturally attract. this reading is for entertainment and enjoyment purposes. ask upon your guides/higher self to help guide you to whichever pile/photo you should choose, then read the message. images are not mine. pick a picture to begin ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the nails): the type of person you attract is kind-hearted and good-intentioned. they bring out the best in you, which makes you very happy whenever you two spend time together. they also have a tendency to spend their money on you, whether it be for buying you lunch, drinks, gifts, or covering your tab. they enjoy spending their money on you, no matter the price. they might, however, play a little game of hard to get. once they've gained an interest in you, starting to leave hints of their attraction, they want to make sure you'd put an effort into the relationship. they might even want you to make the first real move, beyond the lingering gazes and fleeting touches. but it's worth the effort. it might take some time, but once you two are officially together, the relationship is very fun. enjoyable, like dating your best friend or partner in crime. you'll tease each other in light-hearted fun, and you'll wonder what took you two so long to get here.

pile two (the lily pads): the type of person you attract is charming and exciting to be around. they make you feel flustered inside, butterflies in your stomach, because they're so alluring. you're like a moth drawn to a flame. maybe their a little impulsive, but it's never too much, and it adds to their appeal. you probably spend a lot of time with this person in social atmospheres, like bars, clubs, or social gatherings. if you're a more introverted person, they try to convince you to spend time with them at these kinds of events. but they enjoy nights in as well-- they use it as a time to simply talk. they are a great conversationalist, and a great person to confide in. beyond their outgoing persona, they could be a relatively sensitive person deep down, and don't handle jealousy well. conversations with them regarding what both of you seek in a partner might be a way they try to hint at their admiration for you. once you're together, they'll want to brag to everyone about how great you are, and probably post you on social media often.

pile three (the florals): the person you attract is someone whose intelligent and mysteriously compelling. they are someone you've met before, who reappears in your life after a few months or so. they have a cool front, it's hard to read them, and they keep things to themselves, however deep down they are so immensely passionate. they're the type to yearn and pine for weeks before they ever make a move. because of their stoic upfront, you might not even notice their admiration for you, and may not consider them in a romantic way-- at first. because once they finally make a move, maybe with a bold flirt or innuendo, you realize what you've been missing out on. and the relationship, once it begins, is cool as fuck. they'll take you out on dates that have you try new things, that ignite your senses. their kisses and their touch practically set you a flame, you can't get enough of them.

pile four (the bunny):

the person you attract is so adorable and considerate. they're someone who expresses love through physical touch, in romantic and platonic relationships. they care so deeply for the people they love. they dote on you, making sure you've ate, that you got home safe, and that you're having a good day. they are a great listener, and this might be something about them that you find attractive. they love getting to learn things about you, interested in what you like, your hobbies, your goals, etc. they may struggle with admitting their feelings towards you, possibly having a fear of rejection or having bad experiences with love in the past. you'll likely have to make the first move, but once the relationship is brought to the next level, their doting increases ten fold. they'll offer to give you massages, make you dinner, and spend time doing things they know you enjoy.

please like, follow, and reblog for more!

1K notes · View notes

teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 9 months

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tangointhenight

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: idiots in love trope, long-distance fwb (sounds weird but it makes sense just give her a read luv), switch!harry and switch!reader, detailed descriptions of female and male masterbation, maladaptive daydreaming during a fanfic, mentions of exhibitionism, edging, one singular ‘daddy’, cum swapping, breeding kink, praise kink and degradation, rope play, spitting, choking, mutual masterbation, overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator mostly), crying after sex (iconic)

word count: 13.3k

synopsis: harry records erotic audios, and y/n is an avid listener

author’s note: hello nasties, here’s another filth fic for ya! this has been a long time in the making, and i am so sorry i have been mia for so long, but i am back for the time being to give you this fic. i have wanted to do something like this for a while now, but it’s been a struggle (lots of blood, sweat, and tears put into this). i’m kinda proud of her to be honest, and i hope you enjoy :)

tags: @victoria-styles

masterlist

—

Y/N finally sinks into her mattress after yet another tiring day. She can hear her roommate on the other side of the wall, chatting with her girlfriend over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the fact that she currently has a hand teasing the band of her sweatpants while the other scrolls aimlessly through her phone.

Exhaustion burns behind her eyes, but there’s a desperate ache in her belly, one that demands satiety. She opens the internet app to find it unchanged from the night before, still lighting up in the profile named tangointhenight. His profile picture is a tantalizing photo of his hand, splayed across his thigh, which are clad in tight, floral printed pants, doing wonders for the very prominent bulge. Pieces of paint linger on his thumbnail, a pretty pale mint color, and his skin, tanned with faint freckles and etches of dark ink, looks tempting in the golden light. At his wrist is a braided twine bracelet with cheap beads that have letters that she can’t make out, which looks old and wilted.

She scrolls down, only lingering for a moment to appreciate the photo one final time.

There are some cute little posts and polls in addition to his erotic audios. The newest one, posted just that afternoon, warns not to listen to this in public with a series of cute little emoticons following. If there’s one thing she’s learned about Tango, that’s what she and other listeners call him, is that he’s a bit of an exhibitionist; his audios tend to lean toward nearly getting caught or even being caught (oftentimes leading to a “helping out” situation). She honestly wasn’t into that sort of thing until he started talking about it, and now, she finds it incredibly sexy, the thrill of the quick high and the fear of being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

She’ll definitely have to give the new audio a listen on one of her morning commute trips to the university; perhaps, she could give it a listen while she waits for her class to start, his deep voice teasing and coaxing her into an aching mess. She hopes that it’ll leave her trembling and throbbing for the rest of the day. She wonders if she’ll be able to make it until night before she has to finish herself off or if she’ll have to sneak off to the restrooms during one of her seven minute breaks, foot propped up on the toilet paper dispenser while she rubs herself to her bitter end.

She scrolls down a bit, passing over audios that vary from pillow talk to a dirty fuck in back alleys, before tapping on the familiar link, purple from use, the description teasingly saying: we’ve been visiting my mum for a week, and I haven’t been able to taste you... I guess we’ll just have to be quiet.

It’s one of the first audios she listened to when she was just discovering this new world of pleasure, so it has a special place in her heart. It’s one of his firsts from nearly a year ago, of fuzzy listening quality and nervous voice, but she finds his ramblings endearing; although, admittedly, she thinks anything he does is cute.

She tucks in her earbuds and presses the play button. Tossing the phone to the side, her eyes flutter closed, visions of white dotting through the darkness as they adjust. There’s a subtle cracking sound that indicates that it has finally loaded, and a fuzzy droning sound filters through the headphones. There’s a fan going in the background; it squeaks and grumbles nearby. A door creaks open, one of those fake sound effects that you can buy, but she appreciates the effort.

“Hey, lovie, feelin’ better?”

His familiar voice floats through her ears. She settles even more into her sheets. His voice is a nice, hot cup of tea at the end of a hard day, a drug that leaves her head foggy and senses dulled. His voice reminds her of sleep: deep, soothing, persistent, yet ever fleeting. She yearns for it, like being able to listen to that one mazing song for the first time again or the feeling of sunshine after the long winter months. His voice is intoxicating, reaching a baritone timbre that she can’t quite put to words.

At first, she wanted to put a face to the man who hummed sweet nothings in her ears, who coaxed her to oblivion for nights on end. Now, she’s at ease with never knowing. It keeps things interesting, and she doesn’t think about it as much anymore.

“If only mum wasn’t home, maybe we could’ve snuck a quick one in the shower,” he says. She smirks, picturing him tucked into his childhood bed, a cozy twin that would be a struggle for the both of them to fit in, and he has his old quilt tucked up to his neck, leaving his bare feet exposed because of how little it is.

There’s a moment of silence, then a cute little laugh.

“I know. You wouldn’t want to sin in her godly home, but she loves you, probably more than me. I don't think she would think any differently of you.”

Another beat of silence, then his voice catches in his throat. Y/N smiles softly as he stutters pitifully, slowly, struggling to find his words.

“N-no, y’know tha's not how I meant it,” he says. “Like, she loves you more than she loves me. Not that I don’t love you as much as she does.” He moves, the rustling of his sheets crackling in her ears. She can hear his hand run over his stubble, nails scratching over short little hairs. She wonders if he usually grows out his facial hair or if he’s the type to keep clean shaven.

“She couldn’t possibly love you more than I do.” The bed creaks as he shifts again. “C’mon, babe, join me. ‘S all nice and warm.”

She herself burrows further into her blankets, knowing full well that she’s probably going to be kicking them off in a few minutes. She turns to her side, blinking her eyes open, trying to immerse herself into the fantasy.

“‘M glad you got time off of work to come here with me. I know you could've been spending time back home, but you came here with me instead.” His voice is closer than before, however whispered. Every accentuated vowel that passes through his lips is like a breath of fresh air, and she hums quietly at the sound.

“I really appreciate it. ‘M glad we got to spend this time together.”

She imagines that he tucks her into his neck, coddling her while his fingers trace over the curves of her face, from the furrow of her brow, down to the apple of her cheeks, before stopping at her lips, lingering only momentarily before his thumb would push just past them.

He chuckles suddenly.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Jus’ lovin’ on my girl.”

His short pecks turn into slow, passionate kisses, deep sighs of relief falling from his lips, and she swears she can almost feel his breath on her skin, nose pressed tight to the pulsepoint in her neck as he sponges his lips over her collarbone, teeth nibbling lightly. She tugs the tee up from where it’s settled at her hips to where the curves of her breasts begin, the material squeezing them tightly to her chest. The sensitive skin aches under the tight pressure. She teases her nipples through her thin bra, feeling the tenderness coax chills down her spine.

“Please,” he whines. “Wanna taste you. You can be quiet. I believe in you, love.”

She could picture him now, chin resting on her stomach, eyes pleading with her. She would flick his head at the patronizing tone before brushing her fingers through his hair. Would he have short tuffs or long tresses that she could run her fingers through after a long day, breaking apart the knots that accumulate throughout the day? Does he have pin straight, dark locks that are cut close to his scalp or sand coloured curls that fall gracefully on his forehead? Perhaps, he has a bit of gray peaking through his hairline to match his wise and weathered voice. She could almost moan at the thought. She has always had a thing for older men.

Tango says something, but she can’t really hear it, his words muffled by her racing heart. She pries her pants down shaky legs, leaving them dangling around her ankle, and her fingers work quickly in massaging her puffy clit, arousal wetting the tender skin. Not one for having much patience, she doesn’t wait for him to finish worshiping her body with his mouth before she is rubbing herself through her panties, feeling the cold wetness on her fingertips. Eyes closed, her head falls back on her pillows, legs tensing when she stops suddenly.

“Pretty thighs,” he mumbles to himself between kisses, and she could almost feel his tender touches on the backs of her thighs, which tremble with anticipation. A wetly placed kiss followed by an appreciative hum signals his final descent to her cunt. The sound of languid licks are nearly enough to make her finish, walls clenching miserably around nothing. Fingers slowing close to a dead stop, barely more than a faint fluttering on her sensitive skin, she attempts to collect herself, but it’s difficult when he moans once again, muffled by his furiously working lips.

“Love your pussy, baby.” She melts at his words, eyes rolling back as waves of pleasure rack through her body, hips stuttering in time with each flick of her wrist. “So warm and wet and jus’ perfect for me.” His voice, low with need, makes her throb, arousal slipping into her panties.

She’s close already, an unfortunate effect he has on her. Barely five minutes into her alone time, and she can feel the orgasm begin to build, like an unyielding inferno spreading through every nerve. The stress from her day, the exhaustion with the world, everything melts into just one prominent feeling threatening to burst from her pores. She has to force herself to stop before she falls over the edge in order to draw out this experience as much as possible. She nearly cries out when she pulls her hand away altogether, her poor, puffy clit throbbing painfully.

This continues for a while, the undulating waves of a blistering release and the torture of a cut off orgasm, until the air becomes thick, her heaving breaths heating her empty room.

“There’s my good girl,” he says. “Use me, lovie. Want you to choke me with your pretty thighs.”

His voice is more firm this time, and she could only picture his baleful eyes staring up at her, eager to please her and guide her over the edge. It makes her wonder what they look like; she wonders if they’re a soulful, deep chocolate that darken with lust, a pale blue that reminds her of warm afternoons, or a striking hazel that flickers with green hues in the light.

No matter the color, she is sure that they’re undoubtedly pretty.

“Please,” she whispers faintly.

“More? You want more, my greedy girl?” She nods pitifully, feeling the orgasm build quickly in her belly before she stops once again, fingers pressing into her throbbing clit. “You want my fingers?”

Her walls flutter fruitlessly for some sort of release, for some sort of stimulation. He moans out sharply.

“Feel so good, babylove,” he coos. “So warm and wet f’me.”

She wants to slip her fingers inside, to tease and massage that tender spot that she can barely reach until she struggles to breathe. She wants to feel full, but she doesn’t want to take care of the mess, and it surely won’t be comfortable sleeping in wet sheets. The wipes hidden alongside her other secret toys, beneath mounds of socks and crumpled underwear, do little to take care of the arousal that has pooled between her legs.

She fishes around her bedside table, fingers raking through bundles of panties to find her vibrator, a cheap little thing she got in a set when she first moved into her apartment. Unfortunately, she ran through the other ones that were in the set, and this is the only one left.

She nestles the vibrator on her swollen clit and ticks it on to the lowest setting. This stimulation is different than before; a vague rumbling rattles her bones, making her lips tremble, with choked cries teetering on her tongue. Obscene wet sounds fill her ears, and for a moment, she wonders whether they are coming from the audio or from her dripping pussy, and her thighs tighten around her wrist. She could only imagine the sight of his hands splayed over her hips and on her belly, perfectly pastel painted nails pressing into her wet skin. The shifting of her mattress worries her for only a moment, but her shame melts away, and she loses herself in the sound of his heavy, stifled groans, as if he is truly choking on her. The addition of the vibrator only serves to tease her more as she inches toward the end, brutally building in slow, abrupt waves. She struggles to swallow her whimpers.

He spits suddenly, and her hips jut forward at the sound, an erotic display of dominance, but he makes it seem like such a tender act; she could just melt.

“Can you take another?”

A beat of silence and a sharp intake of breath, squelching sounds growing louder.

“No? That’s alright, lovie, just two, then,” he coos. Her toes curl up a little at his words, hips rising from the mattress. On any other night, she would have craved more; she would have wanted him to coax her open with him telling her that she can take just one more and that she’s his good girl. It’s sad to be turned on by a man simply respecting her limits, but her clit throbs pitifully and some arousal slips out into her underwear.

“Gonna come for me, babe?” His words are slurred and wet. “Make me proud.”

Chills rushing down her spine, her body curls into itself, eager for her release. She wants to come so badly; she wants to feel the pleasure for days afterward, to tremble around her hand until she can’t take it anymore, to come until she’s seeing stars. She wants to make him proud, but she knows that she can’t come yet, or else she won’t be able to hear him finish. She doesn’t have another orgasm in her tonight, and she wants to prolong this experience as much as possible, even if that means holding out on her orgasm. The world spins behind her tightly screwed eyes as she slows her ministrations, the vibrator ticking back down to nothing. Her body reacts before she can even consider the loss, her hips bucking against the toy, attempting desperately to find that little bit of stimulation she needs to finally reach euphoria.

His lips smack loudly as he presses simulated kisses to skin, pulling her back from her foggy mind.

“So good f’me, pretty,” he says, words muted by skin. “So good. Hmm, I knew you could be quiet.” His kisses are slow and tired, unlike before when they were rushed and eager. His mattress grumbles as he moves once again, taking his time to, presumably, trail up the length of her trembling body until they’re suffocating in each other's embrace.

He sighs behind closed lips, heavy and wanton, and she can picture him working his hips into the mattress to find some sort of release. She would pull him up until he was right between her aching legs and press her lips to his neck, feeling his pulse jump at the contact. She would cup his cock through his thin pair of pajamas, teasingly massaging him until he just couldn't take it anymore, caution flying out of his mind as he is overcome by thoughts of her name, her skin, simply her. Trying to form a coherent thought, he would barely be able to hold himself up. She moans quietly at the thought.

“Babylove, we can’t—” He moans, his deep voice splintering. “I don’ know if I’ll be able to control myself.”

She has listened to this audio enough to know what to say to fill the silent gaps to fulfill the ultimate fantasy.

“Please,” she whispers into the dead air, barely audible over her roommate's voice in the next room. “Wanna feel you.” She wishes he was there for her to whisper in his ear, her fingers running up the plain of his back, feeling the heated skin tense at her words. He would quirk an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Y’wanna feel my big cock in y’tummy, pretty baby?”

“Yes,” she whimpers quietly, suddenly very aware of how much she truly wanted to be filled, to have him so impossibly close to her.

“Y’know I can’t say no to you.” She can hear the smile in his voice. She wonders what it looks like, if he beams with an eye-searing grin, his face splitting with happiness, or if he has a shy little smirk, just barely toying on his lips. She likes to think that he has a beautiful smile, filled with warmth and love. She melts a little, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her limbs to the tips of her fingers.

“Get on top.”

She does, eyes still closed as she sits and kneels on her mattress, one hand still between her legs, trying desperately to catch her poor, swollen clit at just the right angle that will leave her thighs quaking, her stomach clenching. Her underwear, which are still stuck around her knees, stretch and snap as her thighs slip and spread further on the sheets.

He moans sharply, and she can feel her hips unconsciously move, as if to pull that sound from him once again. The low vibrations from her little handheld leave her aching for more, nothing more than a faint rumble, but if she flicked it up to the next highest setting, it would surely be heard through the thin walls. Besides, she loves the teasing nearly as much as she hates it, just pushing to the brink before the rush subsides and settles into a quiet lull. Speechless, she gasps for air as yet another jilted orgasm subsides.

She works her hips slowly, careful of the squeaking of her mattress; there are only so many noises that can be passed off as her simply shifting around in her sleep. Her wrist aches at such an awkward angle, but she continues, the burning euphoria just beyond the horizon. He moans, and she nearly follows him, a crest of a cry nearly bursting from her chest but it comes out as a small whimper. She pushes her earbud deeper into her ear, as if to pull him closer.

“Sorry, jus’ feel so good,” he says sheepishly, and she can tell that he’s biting his lip by the faint lisp in his words. It would be torture for the both of them, to be so close but unable to move any faster or harder to finally reach the deepest, most pleasurable part, just barely scratching the itch for intimacy. He whimpers pitifully, and she thinks she might fall apart at the sound, but her stupid vibrator leaves her teetering back and forth between over the edge. She wiggles her hips to try to get a better angle, but with just a hint of stimulation, it’s a torturously slow build up.

“There it is, pretty,” he says, breaths faltering. “That’s the spot. Make yourself feel good, lovie. Use me.” Her legs ache at the awkward angle, trembling with overexertion. She wishes that she could let go of it, leaving it on the mattress with her pussy and thighs holding it in place, so she can grind on it, unhindered by her own body’s exhaustion, eagerly chasing her high. It would also free her hands to tease her breasts again, pulling and pinching at her hardened nipples.

“Love the way you feel, babylove,” he whispers. “Fuck, so wet f’me.” He curses again and again, as if no other words can properly describe the feeling of her, so soft, so warm, so fucking good. She could only picture him in abridged visions, his undoubtedly pretty lips parted with his pretty whimpers sneaking through, his features pinched in pleasure. Her eyes roll back as her orgasm quickly approaches.

“‘M gonna come,” he says suddenly. “Are you close, too?” She whimpers, arousal slips down her swollen lips and into her furiously working fingers, eager to finish alongside him. “Yeah? Y’gonna come with me? Y’gonna come on my cock, pretty?”

She is so close, so unbelievably close, and she struggles to relax her muscles to hold off for just a little longer.

“So fuckin’ good, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he says sharply. His mattress squeaks now, unable to hold back the sharp jolts of his hips, and he lets go of all inhibitions, moaning freely. She could imagine his hand tracing up her belly, cupping her swinging breasts, and he would suckle on her nipples until her fervent hips faltered. He would brush his hands up the curve of her back, digging into the muscles of her shoulders until she fell forward. Faces nestled together, interlocking like pieces of a puzzle, they would breathe each other in, savoring such a close moment of intimacy. It would feel like a lifetime as they waited with bated breath, using each other to get the most pleasure possible.

She comes when he does, holding her breath to keep the moans from slipping, which makes it all the more euphoric, the chance of nearly getting caught at her most vulnerable and the faint lightheadedness making her vision foggy. Her orgasm leaves her legs trembling, slipping away from her still buzzing toy, falling forward into her sheets. She breathes in sharply, barely holding back a pained cry; fat tears of pleasure soak into her blanket as euphoria crashes and beats into her muscles. The heart-racing, earth-shattering, limb-thrashing orgasm makes her chest heave. Just like she wanted, she is left spent on her mattress, the powerful rush still lingering in her trembling body.

She flips onto her back, quickly pulling her bottoms back up onto her hips. In her drunken stupor, her earbuds fell out, and she can vaguely hear Tango’s praises. She picks her phone back up, eyes straining under the bright light, and closes out of the audio.

Her head is light, foggy with the residual high. A dazed smile flickers over her lips, exhaustion settling deep in her bones, finally satiated by her orgasm.

She scrolls through his account once again, this time reading through some of his other posts, like links to playlists and cute stories. Suddenly, the little message icon in the corner looks so appealing, teasing and taunting. Perhaps, she’s feeling a little giddy from her high or maybe it’s from the exhaustion, but she can’t seem to find a reason to not do it.

She sends him a message.

Meanwhile, Harry stares at the blinking cursor petulantly. It taunts him amidst a sea of white, a blank canvas in what should have been a completed midterm paper that’s due in a couple of days. His eyes sink closed, and he starts to drift off, only waking when his hand slips from his cheek, knocking his glasses askew. An old sitcom plays in the background, the canned laughter providing a break in the silence every five seconds. He sighs for the billionth time that evening, struggling to find motivation to even think at this point.

His phone dings, and he happily divulges the distraction, his brows furrowing as he reads a direct message from a user called honeyhi. He’s used to getting comments on his post, with the occasional direct message (which he usually deletes instantly because of poor past experiences), and now, he usually doesn’t think much of them. He isn’t doing it to gain anything from anyone. He just wants to put his thoughts out there, and it’s just an added bonus to get validation from beautiful people.

She doesn’t have a profile picture, not uncommon on that corner of the web, especially since his posts aren’t a lot of people’s taste. He wouldn’t usually indulge in them, deleting them usually instantly, but something compels him to open her message.

Not to be too forward, but I had the best orgasm of my life, listening to your audios. I’ve listened to your audios for a long time, and honestly, listening to you has become the highlight of my evenings ;)

Honey, you have no idea what that means to me.

Truly, his heart swells at her sweet words. It’s nice to get complimented on something you put so much effort into. He bares himself for strangers, expressing such an intimate part of himself for their shared pleasure, and it feels reassuring to get compliments.

I mean it. Also, Tango in the Night is arguably one of Fleetwood Mac’s best albums. Definitely top three.

Most people assume it’s a sex thing.

I wonder why.

He laughs a little at the dry comment.

So, what are the other two in your top three albums?

Pre or post Stevie Nicks?

Post, of course. What kind of question is that?

That was a test. You passed. I think we’ll get along just fine, Tango.

I think so, too, Honey.

—

Y/N rushes past the postman, nearly toppling over when her bag shifts slightly on her arm, her thick binders peek out of the top and dig into her arm. Her hand furiously slaps the elevator button, and she stands impatiently, her dangling keys shaking at her hip. The doors tremble as the weight teeters down to the main floor, far too slowly in her opinion. For a moment, she considers just running up the three flights of stairs to her floor, but that feels a little too eager.

She and Tango have their weekly phone call tonight, and her classes ran long today; that coupled with the stand-still traffic made her more anxious than usual to get home. She always calls first, since her schedule is the most complicated, and she’ll feel absolutely awful if she was late for their call. She feels silly getting worked up over such a small thing, but their friendship progressed beyond the occasional messages in the past month, and she honestly looks forward to their weekly talks. Tango is such a beautiful and humble person, and he is such a stable place of comfort. She knows that he will be understanding and have an independent, secondary perspective on any situation.

He is someone she can rely on for just about anything.

The bell dings above her, and the elevator doors finally part. After barreling inside, she sinks against the railing, glancing at the time, which is still just before her usual calling time. She sighs sharply when the doors begin to close, relief tugging on her shoulders.

However, a hand pushes through the lift’s doors before they can shut, and she bites back an irritated groan; she probably could have made it to her apartment by now if she had ran up the stairs. The man slides in and gives her a grateful nod, accompanied by a small smile. Much to her delight, he presses the ‘close door’ button quickly, and they’re met with no interruptions this time. It’s a quiet ride, despite her nervous feet tapping, and he taps away on his phone,

She admires him out of the corner of her eye, forgetting momentarily about her anxiety. Half of his hair is pulled back in a small bun, exposing the darker locks underneath, and a bandana pushes back the frizzy flyaways that would normally frame his face. The thick strands curl slightly at the ends; there’s one tight coil that she wants to tug on. She could easily become enamored with him, with his pretty green eyes and day-old stubble. His bag has H.E.S embroidered on the bottom corner. A coral colored, gem necklace rests beautifully on his tanned chest, which is mostly covered by a near see-through white top, covered with a baggy, gingham jumper.

After living in the building for two years, they have run into one another on several occasions but have never really spoken. He lives on the second floor, and he goes to the university as well.

When he leaves, after offering another nod and quick smile, she calls Tango. He answers after the second ring.

“Hey, sweets,” he grumbles, not as chipper as his usual self. Her heart sinks a little. He had his midterms last week, and she can only assume that the results are not what he had hoped.

“Oh, no,” she says. “What happened?”

“‘S nothin’,” he insists, but she can hear the irritation in his voice. “‘M jus’ getting myself worked up over nothin’. How was your day?”

Clearly not wanting to talk, he changes the subject, which is something Y/N has grown used to over the past few months. He doesn’t like to vent when he’s too upset because he’s afraid of lashing out and taking his aggression out on her. Thankfully, she has also learned how to distract him. Usually, his annoyance melts away within minutes, and he is his usual, bubbly self again.

“Well, let me tell you, I nearly killed the postman today, and someone nearly hit my car today.”

“What?” He asks incredulously. “Please, elaborate.”

And so, she does.

A couple hours later, Y/N’s in her kitchen, making avocado and tomato toast for the fifth time this week. Her roommate is gone for the weekend, thankfully, which means she can get more stuff done without interruptions (and she can talk to Tango for as long as she wants without getting interrogated about it). His mood had improved significantly after she was able to make him laugh at her own expense (he especially liked the story about how she grabbed her iced coffee too quickly this morning and spilled it all over the barista’s hand).

“I have a question,” he says quickly, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to ask if he held onto it for a moment longer.

“Okay,” she says slowly, almost fearful at the sudden change of tone in his voice.

“Would you be able to listen to something I recorded the other day?” He giggles nervously. “I dunno. I just feel a little,” he makes a little noise, “off about it.”

Stunned, she stares at her phone, the seconds ticking by before her very eyes, and despite the fact that the only reason why they know each other is because she listened to his audios, she’s a little taken aback by the question. Before she knows it, too much time has passed for her to brush off as anything but bewilderment. She stutters.

“I—uh—sure?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“No, I am.” Stubborn and not willing to back down, she digs herself a deeper hole, despite the odd feeling growing in her stomach. “Yes, I will listen to it for you.”

“Okay, then,” he says breathlessly. “I’ll send it to you.”

Neither know what to say now. Conversation usually came easy to them, so it feels so strange to be stuck in such an uncomfortable silence. Now, she’s gone and ruined everything because of her hesitation. Why did she even hesitate? There’s no reason to be embarrassed. They’re both very open, sexual people, and it’s nothing to get so worked up over. Maybe, it’s the fact that it’s him, and she knows him so well now. Compared to before, when he was just some stranger on the internet, she knows his likes, dislikes; hell, she has even spoken to his cat, and it feels wrong because he is her friend, and that’s not what friends are supposed to do.

“It’s not weird. Is it?” He asks shyly.

“Of course not.” She says it a little too quickly. Admittedly, it feels a little weird, now that she thinks about it. It would be like walking in on your friend having sex. Then again, the only reason why they really know each other is because she listened to his audios (which is basically him jerking off to his dirty thoughts). However, it’s not an aspect they spoke about too often, usually after a couple of drinks. Their friendship, despite how it began, is purely innocent. They were each other’s comfort person; they were there to vent, laugh, and talk with. Neither ever hinted toward anything different, other than the occasional, playful flirting.

“No, I’ll listen to it for you. What are friends for?”

She doesn’t know why her heart is beating so fast.

“Thank you,” he says.

“So,” she says, “do you want me to listen to it now?”

“Eager, are we?” He hums teasingly.

“Shut up,” she scoffs.

“I mean, if you wanted to hear some dirty talk, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please, stop talking.”

“Y’know I’m always down to clown.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

True to her words, she doesn’t wait for him to answer before she ends the call.

Her phone dings a second later with the link along with another cheeky message. The link is to a private web upload platform, and she feels special for a moment. She wonders if she should just listen to it while eating her toast and go about her usual routine, or if she should do what she usually does when listening to his audios. Is that what he would want, though? Would it make him feel uncomfortable? Is it more weird to just listen to him moan in her ear while doing mundane tasks around the house?

Granted, they have had some conversations about sex and the like, but this feels so much more intimate, especially because he knows that she’s going to listen to him jerk off, not to even mention the obscene things that come from his mouth.

What does it mean for their friendship? Perhaps, it’s not even meant to mean anything, just a sincere favor asked between two friends. Maybe, it’s meant to be a step toward something more on his part. Is that even what she wants?

She brushes off that thought quickly, as she has for months, because deep down, she knows it would just end up in disappointment.

Oh, what a mess.

She’s headed on a downward spiral that has no chance of stopping unless it’s hit by a freight train to hell.

She opts to forgetting her toast and slips into her bedroom, falling onto her blankets giddily. She presses play on the audio, her heart racing as it loads, and leaves her phone face down next to her ear, eyes closing to fully immerse herself, trying to ignore her anxiety.

“Hello,” he says slowly, almost shyly, and it feels like one of their late nights again, with him talking through her phone and her cuddled in bed, listening eagerly. “I’ve just gotten home, but I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day. Couldn’t go to sleep before gettin’ it out there, y’know.” He giggles, a pretty little noise she’s heard many times now. He laughs a lot, sometimes at himself, but mostly in response to her. He even laughs at her corny, little puns, which she appreciated.

“And ‘m really hard right now, so that doesn’t help either. I haven’t really been able to come in the past two weeks. Been too busy with… life, I guess. But a friend of mine talked to me about the world of BDSM. She’s a kinky little shit.”

Y/N’s heart lurches, stomach twisting with an unrecognizable feeling, knowing that the certain friend he is talking about is her. She remembers the conversation well, even though she was a little tipsy and very high, mostly because it was also the first time they had actually spoken on the phone, and it began as it normally does, about mundane things that happened that week. Somehow, the conversation shifted to kinks, and she told him that she wouldn’t be opposed to more sinful acts in the bedroom, most of which her previous partners had not indulged.

“I’m pretty vanilla, I guess. I just love to love people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never really been into that sort of thing, but now, I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve been kinda into some dark, dom stuff lately,” he admits slowly. “Dark for me, at least, which, again, doesn’t say much.” There’s another laugh, radiant and delicate.

“I dunno why, but I’ve been fantasizing about taking you into our room. A little lackluster, I know, but I’m not into the dark, dingy places, like those sex dungeons they have in the movies, where there’s lots of leather, red lights, music, quite the ambience.” He stops suddenly, and she could imagine his lips pursing to cease his ramblings. She wishes he wouldn’t do that so much; she wishes that he wouldn’t doubt himself and his beautiful way with words. If only he could be as confident in himself as she is in him.

“I just want to lay you down on our bed with our fluffy blankets pushed off to the side. Then, if either of us need to take a moment or stop, we can.” Her heart swells a little at his words. Even though he’s trying to talk about, in his words, “dark, dom stuff”, he is still so sweet and considerate, and she can’t help but soften. He trails off.

Faintly, she can hear him yank his belt from the loops, and it’s, honestly, one of the hottest things she has ever heard; the teasing glimpse of what could come far more erotic than anything any of her other partners could do. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have him in front of her, shirtless with his pants low on his hips; maybe he would be wearing the same floral pants he is in his profile picture, the ones that are unbelievably tight. She would be splayed on the bed, just observing this beauty of a man, waiting patiently for him to come and ravish her.

She’s sure that his tattoos cover more than just his arms, but how many more is a question that haunts her. The thought of a big tattoo on his thigh that she can grind on while he moans about how much of a good girl she is has led to many obscene dreams. She imagines black images carved into his chest, perhaps a trail of floating rose petals from his collar bone to his peck or a hellish looking snake wrapped around his waist. More vividly, she envisions a bold tattoo just beneath his belly button, one that she would scratch at while he violently pounded into her, one that she would kiss and lick before she would take him in her mouth.

Oh, what she would do to be able to feel his skin on hers.

She dips her hand beneath the band of her shorts out of habit, toying with the silky material of her panties. She tries not to think too much about her feelings, fearing it would deepen the ache in her heart.

“Anyway, you’d be on the bed,” he says, his usual slow, stifling voice pulling her deeper into the fantasy, “naked, on your knees with your pretty pussy facing me. You’re all tied up, starting at your wrists and ankles, and there would be a pretty knot down your spine that I can grab while I fuck you from behind.”

Her cunt throbs at the sudden turn. She could only imagine: her face pressed into the pillows, choking on the sheets, her muscles tight, aching beneath the restraints, and her voice raw, sobbing from overstimulation. Exhausted and wanton, she would take anything that he would be willing to give her. He would shove her face into the mattress, mounting her, and he would tug on the rope until it felt like it would permanently embedded in her wet skin, telling her how much of a good little slut she is, taking him so well.

She doesn't know why she’s drawn to rope play; perhaps, it’s all a part of the subtle nuances of the sex, the intimacy of tying the complex binds around your partner and the intricacies of sensory manipulation with such overwhelming stimulation. It’s so much more than just being bound while fucking. There is such a deep reliance on the other person to understand your body, your limits, your needs. It’s about trust and vulnerability. She thinks of it in such a melodic and romantic way; it must have resonated with Tango.

“Or I’d tie your arms to your legs, keeping you spread open for me on your back, with knots around your belly, the lead falling between your tits.” Her eyes flutter closed. While rope play is something that she has always wanted to try but never felt comfortable enough with another person to act on it. He would be different though. She cups her pussy, languidly running her fingers through her wet folds, feeling the arousal slip down her skin before settling on her sheets.

She pinches her clit, and her legs immediately jerk around her arm. Feeling far too sensitive for that type of stimulation, she simply strokes through her lips, focusing her ministrations on the delicate inside, close to her sopping entrance, enjoying the slow build.

“Then, I could hold onto your neck while I fuck you, and I like being able to see your face, to see how good I’m making you feel, to see tears of pleasure run down your pretty face. You could suck on my fingers while I fuck you, deep and hard. D’ya wanna choke on my fingers, pretty?”

She wants absolutely nothing more. She would gladly suck on his fingers if it meant that she could see the look of awe in his eyes, lust darkening his features when she bites teasingly on his nail.

“But if you’re on your knees, I could watch you in the mirror and still see your face. From behind, I can see your pretty, tight pussy take my cock.” He whimpers. “I haven’t decided which I would rather have.”

She can’t decide, either.

Then again, they could always have both.

“Of course, I wouldn’t give you my cock that easily. No, you’re going to be crying for me, begging for me to fuck you, and I dunno if I would fuck you right away or make you beg for it. I think for the first bit, after you’re all tied up for me, I’ll tease you, just barely touching you, pulling on the lead, the ropes tightening around your aching body. I think your tits would look so pretty all tied up f’me, babylove.

“When you’ve finally had enough, crying for me to stuff you full of my cock, I’d let you come, but I’d only use my fingers, never giving you what you really want. Maybe I’ll put a little vibrator on your clit and leave you there, having you come again and again until it hurts. I’d have you keep your panties on, of course. Don’t want you making a mess of the sheets, and then, when I finally give you my cock, I’ll put them in your mouth to keep you quiet, and so you can taste yourself.”

His moans are in the forefront in his sensual song, mixed amongst a symphony of bed and friction sounds. She matches his pace, flicking her wrist in time with the sound of him working his wet cock. She massages the entirety of her pussy, messily rubbing her fingers from the tip of her poor, swollen clit to her throbbing opening.

“Fuck, babylove, you’d be so good f’me, taking my cock so deep in your pussy. Would you cry f’me, pretty? Cry for daddy to fuck you into the mattress.” A rumbling groan finally breaks free, and she is so close to falling apart, her high festering into her muscles, burning through her nerves; her skin feels hot to the touch. She struggles to breathe, but she doesn't yearn for air as much as she does her end. Tears in her eyes, she clutches onto her blanket, tugging it in her mouth to keep from crying too loudly. She sobs, feeling a familiar tightness in her body, just beyond her grasp. Her hand still moves over her pussy, arousal seeping through trembling fingers, but she can’t reach her peak with such light, varied stimulation, her hips buckling.

“My pretty rope bunny,” he mutters. He’s desperate, truly just rambling on and on about anything that comes to mind. “My pretty honey,” he whimpers, almost inaudibly, “honey, honey.”

For a second, she thinks of the times that word has passed through his lips in less sinful situations, a slow, lulling honey when he’s trying to get her attention, sweet and innocent. That’s his special name for her, and she wonders if, possibly, he thinks about her in the same way she does, if he wishes to be with her in such an intimate way, just as she does. She thinks, incredulously, that maybe she isn’t overanalyzing the situation.

His bed squeaks faintly in the background, just barely heard over his withering voice. She can only begin to imagine what he looks like in that moment, legs tense, feet digging into the mattress, his hips thrusting to fuck himself into his fist. The head of his cock would peek through the top of his fist as he coerced his release free. She wishes she could see what he looks like when he comes, when he finally reaches his most euphoric moment. It’s such a primal thing to witness, to see someone liberated of all inhibitions, to observe them completely succumbing to their instincts. It’s such a beautiful thing to see someone acquiesce control and thrive so harmoniously with their body.

“I wanna wrap my belt around your throat.” He swallows thickly. She whines along with him. Perhaps, she’s just fooling herself, but she can swear that she could almost hear the sound of a leather belt squeezing in his fist. A pitiful pool of wetness slips between her ass cheeks.

“My cock hurts just thinking about how you’d sound.” He moans, mimicking the desperate heaves that would undoubtedly slip through her lips as he pulls his belt tightly around her throat. “Then, when you’re bratty, I can just wrap my hand around the belt and make it tighter.

“Please,” he mocks weakly, “please, sir, I’ll be good. But you’re just saying that to get what you want. You’re just a naughty, little slut aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she returns weakly.

“Maybe, I could get you a collar and pull you around with that. Would you like that?” He hums. “Of course, you would. You’re my pretty, little bunny.”

In any other instance, she would feel humiliated to be so aroused at being so weak and submissive to another, but he could convince her to do anything at this point. She’s close, toes curling and muscles tightening, and she waits for his familiar profession that he is also near the edge, but the silence that follows is deafening, a disappointing resolution to an intense narrative. It makes her stop completely, wet hand flipping her phone over to see that, indeed, she had listened to all of the audio. It knocks the air from her lungs when she realizes that that was it. She isn’t going to hear his cute little whimpers as he comes nor his sweet aftercare.

Frustrated from her ruined orgasm, she calls him instantly, and he picks up after the fourth ring this time, as if he knows that she is this needy and frustrated. She doesn’t give him the chance to greet her.

“That couldn’t have been all of it.”

“Well, hello to you, too—”

“I didn’t get to hear you come.”

“Is that what you wanna hear, honey?”

“Well, yeah, I always come with—” She stops before she says something she’ll regret, but by the sound of his laughter, it’s already too late. She wants to hide away in embarrassment.

“It’s only partially finished. I thought I told you that.” She can hear the teasing smirk he surely has plastered on his face, the cheeky bastard. “I just wanted to hear what you thought so far before I finished it. There’s no point in finishing something that I already feel isn’t worth the time.”

“Well, then,” she stutters quickly, “How does it end?”

“How do you think it should end?”

There’s a certainty in his words, as if he has already accepted her as a lover, and she knows that he is giving her the opportunity to initiate the next step. Fear squeezes her chest, and for a second, she worries that she isn’t brave enough to follow through. Every fiber of her being is pleading with her to just take that risk, but another, more rational side of her, is saying it’s better to say a quick I don’t know, and they would move on as normal.

“Where would you come?”

Oh, it feels so filthy to ask that, but it’s so relieving to hear the hum of approval that passes through his lips.

Her heart races, not like before; this is exciting and new and arousing, and it feels wrong. She doesn’t even know what he looks like; hell, she doesn’t even know his real name, and she’s so fucking ready and willing to give herself to him. There’s just so many reasons to not pursue him. She feels ashamed, almost, that she is weak for a man she knows nothing about.

“Hmm, that’s a good question. Where would you like me to come?”

But how can she not get weak when he asks her things like that?

Shivers bloom on her skin in sunflower blossoms. She knows what he wants to hear, and usually, she would tease him, telling him that he didn’t care if he even came or not, but the throbbing between her legs is relentless, and she’s just lust-drunk that she’ll say just about anything to get what she needs. She begins rubbing herself again, focusing solely on her clit this time instead of the entirety of her pussy in the palm of her hand. Breathing out shakily, she answers honestly.

“Everywhere.”

He moans, and she knows that was the right answer.

“Everywhere? Such a greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat? You wanna taste it? Maybe, I’ll have you choke on my cock, fuck y’face until you’re crying.”

After he was done fucking her, she’s sure that he would yank her up either by the rope around her breasts or by the belt around her neck (she can’t decide which yet) and put his cock by her mouth, rubbing himself over her lips and chin, but never quite pushing past the barrier of her lips; no, she would be the one to open her sweet mouth for him, her jaw lax and tongue wet as she takes everything he’d give her.

God, yes, she wants to taste him. She wants him to use her in every possible, degrading way: to use her mouth while she tied up, under his mercy, to fuck her face until she has tears dripping down her cheeks, wetting her heaving chest, to come down her throat until she’s choking on him, but he would pinch her nose and make her taste it until her vision was blurry.

“You’d take it all, babylove. Won’t you?”

He asks so innocently, his deep voice having a soft twinge, but she knows that it’s not optional, not that she would choose otherwise. She would greedily lap at his cum and drink it all, proudly showing off her empty mouth when she’s done. Maybe, he would insist that she keep it in her mouth and pull her into a wet, heated kiss, prying her lips apart so he can taste himself on her tongue.

“I could make a mess on your belly or your tits, and then, I could lick you clean. Or I could mark up your thighs and watch it drip onto the sheets.”

The thought of him marking her with his come is nearly enough for her to reach her peak. A voice in the back of her head chastises her for being so greedy; this is something she has fantasized about since they started talking, and it’s going to be over before it can even begin at this rate. She needs to distract herself, to focus on anything other than the painful throbbing between her legs.

“Or I could come inside you.”

That’s the last thing she needed to hear.

Only because it makes a thick bead of arousal seep into her sheets. It makes her finally give in and sink two fingers inside herself, and fuck, she’s so wet and swollen and pliable. She sobs, truly biting back even louder cries behind gritted teeth. She curses again and again at the feeling coursing through her veins, heat spreading in her belly as her hips frantically move against her ministrations.

“By the sound of that moan, I think that’s definitely preferred. Such a filthy girl. Y’want me to fill your belly? Want me to mark you as mine?”

She just knows that he could fill her to the brim, but he would want to prolong the experience as much as possible, teasing her with his cock and coaxing her to beg for his cum.

She could just imagine the determined look in his eyes, so close to coming, but he would pull out, just barely teasing her trembling entrance with his twitching cock. He wouldn’t move, and when she would beg for him to put it back in and just fuck her until she couldn’t breath, he would say very simply: if y’want my cum so bad, put my cock back inside.

God, his face would be gleaming with this power, satisfied with seeing her so needy for his cum. Shamefully, she would put one of her hands on his hip while the other grasps his cock, pushing on him until he sinks entirely inside her once again, but he still wouldn’t move, simply filling her, the both of them twitching with arousal. He would demand that she make him come if she wants it so bad, as if it's a gift from the heavens.

“Are you touching yourself?” He asks, and only then does she realize that she was drowning in her fantasy; the sudden change makes her stop rubbing herself, her vision hazy. She parts her lips with wet fingers, slipping back down to her entrance, gently prodding inside until that euphoria builds once again.

“Yes,” she admits shamefully. “‘M so fucking wet for you.”

“Dirty little slut,” he says sharply. He has no room to judge, especially since she can hear the all-too-familiar sounds to him jerking his cock, wet sounds of his fist passing over the thick head echoing in her empty room. She is near tears at this point, so needy and high and horny, but she wants to make this last.

“Would you let me come? Please, can I come?”

It’s his turn to moan with approval, and she feels proud. His heavy breathing in time with hers, he seems to be lost in pleasure, voice hitching as he struggles to find words. Her orgasm swells to a near crest once again, but she wants to hear him finish. At this point, she knows what it sounds like, from the frantic ramblings to the guttural moans, and he’s not quite there yet.

“Do you think you deserve to come, honey? You think you’ve been a good girl f’me?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl—fuck—please, please, I need to come.” She stumbles through her words, what little power she held in her withering grasp deflating instantly from his words.

“I dunno, I think you’re a brat who just wants to get off.”

It’s painful how much his words impact her, volatile muscles spasming while she staves of hee end. She whimpers, sinking further in her headspace; she feels a cloud settle in her vision (or perhaps those are tears), overwhelming yet freeing.

“No, I’m your good girl,” she insists.

“I think you’ll have to prove it to me, honey,” he replies slyly. “I don’t think I’ll let you come quickly. I want you to beg for it. Can you do that f’me, babylove? Beg me to come.”

“Fuck, I’m so close,” she says. “Please, please, I need it. Please, let me come.”

“You can do better than that,” he says, voice cracking. Their harmonious sounds of excitement drive both of them closer to their orgasms.

“Oh, god—please, I—fuck—I need it so bad. ‘M so close, please.” She can barely speak coherently. Chills wrack her sore body, waves of throbbing pleasure threatening to break her. She wanted—no, needed—him to finish.

“Come f’me, Honey,” he says. “You’re my good girl, so good f’me. C’mon, babylove, come with me.”

She does. With ears ringing and eyes closing, she comes until her pussy aches. It feels never ending, euphoria consuming every part of her sweat-laden flesh, chilling and fiery, for hours—or perhaps only seconds. She can’t tell.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her vision blurry. Her body trembles with residual aftershocks of her intense orgasm. She lays spread open on her bed, her pussy still too sensitive to close her legs entirely.

“Thank you for letting me come.” In her daze, her limbs fall away limply. All she can do is exist at this moment. She vaguely wonders if he finished with her, the thought of his deep moans fueling another fire. A part of her is disappointed that she wasn't present enough to listen to him, but another part knows that more opportunities will come.

“You’re so welcome, honey,” he says sweetly. “I think we both really needed that today.”

She hums, still recovering from such a powerful end. She slowly regains her breathing.

“I guess I should be thanking you because that’s one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had,” he says. She laughs.

“You flatter me.”

“I’m serious. Nearly gave myself a pearl necklace.”

And just like that, everything continues as normal. Both know that the other is naked and satiated, but neither feels uncomfortable with the fact. If anything, it makes things relieved, open, or comfortable. They’re both giggly in the golden after-glow.

“What does this mean for us, Honey?”

As, yes, the dreaded ‘talk’. Fear immediately spikes in her veins, and she struggles to find her words. Before she can answer, he begins speaking again.

“Look, I really like talking with you, and I don’t want this to make things weird, but I meant what I said earlier. That was probably one of the best orgasms of my life, and I don’t think that I could live without your pretty little moans now that I’ve heard them. Maybe, we can do that again. We don’t have to put a label on it or anything, if you don’t want to.”

Her heart sinks. Is that all that he wants?

“Right, it doesn’t have to be anything serious, just us having some stress relief.” Her words are dry and forced, feeling like bile in her mouth. She grits her teeth. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

“Hey, uh, it’s late, and I have to wake up early tomorrow. Same time next week?”

She hopes that he doesn’t think that she regrets what they did, and she hopes he doesn’t think too much into her abrupt ending of the call. It’s not a total lie; she does have work early tomorrow morning, but she has had more than a few days where she was running on two hours of sleep and a miracle. She just wants to get off the phone before he hears the contemplation in her voice.

“You think I can wait a week after that? You have too much faith in me.”

“I think you’ll survive, babe,” she says.

“Good night, babylove.”

“Good night.”

She falls asleep quickly after, dreaming of the nameless, faceless man who she bares her soul to.

Later that night, as Harry edits the finally finished audio, he thinks back to Honey and their mutual pleasure, feeling like an absolute idiot for saying that it was nothing serious. He wasn’t expecting her to agree so emphatically, so quickly.

Although, what had he expected? He was the one who suggested it. No matter, he can’t have a relationship right now, especially a long distance one. He would just end up getting hurt, but he likes her too much to stop talking to her completely. He finally took their relationship further even if it won’t lead to anything more.

—

“Are you ready to admit defeat?”

Y/N lets out a breathy laugh, despite her current situation, her hand rubbing leisure circles on her already sensitive clit, which still throbs from her first orgasm of the night. Tango murmurs praise in her humming ears.

She’s not really sure what they are, and she doesn’t want to think about it. It would only complicate things more.

Friends? Definitely.

Well, maybe not definitely, since she doesn’t even know his name, but what other word could she use to define their relationship? What sort of friends would say such filthy things to each other? Why would he call her ‘my honey’ so emphatically if they were ‘just friends’? Too afraid of misinterpreting his intentions and embarrassing herself, she doesn’t mention anything, and he never does either, but it keeps her awake at night, wondering what they could be if she could just put her feelings to words.

This would be the second hour of their phone call, and it only took them ten minutes for the conversation to turn into one of their “stress relieving sessions”. Both of them had a terrible day; she was late for the first day at her new job (they were understanding given the circumstances, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth), and he slept through an exam. She eased him into a submissive headspace quickly, babbling about what a good boy he is and how proud she is of him. Within minutes, he came, and she whispered all the filthy things she wanted to do to him until he was completely spent, his cock milked of all remnants of his seed, twitching and throbbing with empty orgasms.

He easily fell into the dominant headspace after his quick high, and he was adamant that he could make her come more than any of her other partners, even without him truly there. She knows that he can; hell, she has touched herself to his voice more times than she could count, but she likes teasing him, hearing him get all riled up and stubborn.

“Are you gonna come again, honey?”

“Nope,” she breathes, “Not even a little close.”

“You’re obviously lying or not trying,” he says sharply, and a sense of pride swells in her chest at her ability to get a rise out of him without even trying. She smirks.

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

“I might have to.”

She’s sure he would, too, but it would be in the most pleasurable way possible, with his mouth and fingers and cock stimulating her until she comes so many times she can’t take anymore. Her fingers trace her most intimate area, nails scraping against her quivering core. She sinks two fingers inside, feeling her sopping pussy swallow them easily, adjusting quickly and craving more. She tries to find that sweet, spongy spot inside her, but she can’t seem to reach it.

“Wish it was your fingers,” she mumbles, her movements certain and even, but it’s never enough for her greedy body.

“Yeah, lovie?” He croons, “they’d be so big in your tight little pussy.” She hums, wishing that he was there to stuff her in every way possible.

“Would you wear your rings?”

“For you? Of course.” Her eyes roll back at the thought; his thick fingers could tear her at the seams, and with the added texture of his rings, she would be coming within seconds. Her clit throbs, blood rushing in time with her racing heart, and she massages it harder, wanton and waiting for yet another release. “C’mon, babylove, Come for me. Make me proud,” he coaxes. His words make her fall over that edge once more, thighs shaking and pussy weeping. She’s sure there’s a creamy stain beneath her, seeping into her wet skin.

“Again,” he demands. She thinks she may break. “Keep going, babylove. Where’s that toy you told me about?”

He knows that she won’t be able to come much longer on her own, with the pain overwhelming the pleasure.

“It’s so far away,” she whines.

“Go grab it, love,”

Her legs tremble as she twists around, reaching blindly into her bedside drawer. She can’t close her legs too much without getting overstimulated; her legs ache and twitch. Once the toy is situated just above her clit, she ticks it on. Her body reacts immediately, limbs jolting about, hips ducking away, and her voice catching. Gasping, she almost wants to take the toy away, the stimulation being far too much.

He thinks differently.

“Turn it up higher, lovie,” he says so sweetly. Her chest feels like it could almost collapse into itself. Still dizzy from her orgasm, she’s not sure if she can take it, her body fighting against her. She wants to beg and plead for something, but she doesn’t even know what for. Is it for yet another orgasm that will surely be more powerful that any other? Or is it for the burning at every nerve ending to stop?

“I dunno—”

“You can take it, such a good little bunny for me.”

The vibrator ticks to the next setting, a sharp, persistent sound echoes in her empty room, followed by an even louder shout. She has not control anymore. Thankfully, she’s home alone or else it would be an awkward morning with her roommate listening to her cries of pleasure well into the night. Her hand shakes, but she presses the head of the toy harder to her clit. She lets out a guttural groan, feeling euphoria seep from every pore.

“There it is,” he moans, breathing growing ragged. He’s surely jerking himself off, basking in the pleasure with her, and it makes her arousal burn deeper. She wants to put on a show for him, to egg him on and make him feel as good as he makes her feel.

“There’s my pretty girl. Let me hear you, baby.”

She can barely squeeze out a few breathless whimpers from her chest, hedonistic—no, animalistic—sobs crash through her. Pain and pleasure fight for control, just as her mind and body do.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” she says weakly. “Feels so good.”

She comes quickly with a silent cry, her lips parted and face scrunched. Saliva slips from her open mouth, and she is unable to wipe it away, lewdly dripping down her chin to her neck before finding it’s place on her dirtied sjeets. The recovery period is quicker this time; it’s either that or her body is becoming numb to anything but pleasure. It feels like it’s never ending with the vibrator still nestled tightly to her puffy cilt. Her lips are surely swollen now too, tender from too many orgasms, yet still sopping with arousal.

“Don’t take it away,” he says, “You got another one in ya. You can do it, lovie.”

His voice is muffled beneath blankets where her phone lies, lost in her ravenous bouts of pleasure, limbs writhing and tossing. Her body aches when she twists to put it back up by her ear to hear him more clearly, muscles tight from her previous orgasms. Legs closing slightly, she whines when the toy presses harder against her clit, hips ducking away from the strong vibrations, eyes fluttering closed. Her phone falls out of her grasp once more, but the light illuminates the dark room, casting a warm glow.

“Please—”

She’s not really sure what she’s begging for; it just slips out, a weak plea. Perhaps, she just wants him to be there instead of on the other end of a phone call, in some faraway place she doesn’t even know. The room would feel so much warmer with him here, her back pressed to his chest, their sweat mingling. Maybe he would wear those pretty lace stockings he showed her a picture of once, the glittery fabric coarse against her skin as he teases his toes along her leg, keeping them spread. His freckled and inked arms wrapped tightly around her middle, paying special attention to her tummy, he would whisper sweet things in her ear and press on the area right below her belly button, telling her of how he wants to grind his pretty cock against her soft middle until she is sticky with his precum, how he can fuck himself that deep inside her. She would feel him for days after.

“I know it hurts, baby, but just one more, then you can go to bed.”

It sounds so nice, the thought of sinking into her pillows for a good night's rest, but an orgasm sounds even better, one leaving her spent and satiated and sleepy.

“Such a good girl f’me.”

As much as she wants to, the sensitivity becoming nearly unbearable, she can’t stop; she wants to make him proud, to prove to him that she’s his good girl who can take it. Even though he’s not truly there with her to hold her and make sure she comes, she still wants to do as he says. Her legs tremble, threatening to close.

She squeaks when the vibrator hits a particularly sensitive angle on her clit, and she bites into her pillow to keep from crying out. Her hips work desperately, to reach that high for the last time, just one more, like an addict itching for one more hit. It’s her fourth orgasm within ten minutes, and this might just be her breaking point.

“I dunno if I can.” Her words slur, and she can feel spit dripping down her puckered lips. She suddenly wishes he was there to wipe it away, thumb soft and subtle against her skin, lingering on her puffy lips.

“One more, babylove,” he insists. “Just one more. You’re doing so well.” She bites back a mangled cry, eyes squeezing shut, her thoughts lost in a dark chaos. His voice is the only anchor amidst a dizzying high, coaxing her through her stupor with sweet words.

“My pretty girl, my good fucking girl, taking it so well.” His gravelly voice pulls her from drowning, his words gritty from his clenched jaw. “You’re not hurting too much, are ya?”

His deep voice is soft, lilting with a tender care she needs. She could simply melt, blanketed in the warmth of his rich voice.

“A little,” she admits, a dull ache in her belly when she clenches too tightly. “But it feels so good.”

The vibrations pulse through her body, leaving her voice shaky, and she shifts slightly, hips digging into the mattress. It settles on the underside of her clit, and it’s so close to that one spot, until finally—there, there, there—right there. She groans, low and guttural, drawn out from the depths of her chest, animalistic almost. Her body burns and trembles for a second before yet another strong, unrelenting wave drowns her. Every muscle in her body tenses as the head of the vibrator finds the one tender spot on her clit, catching at just the right angle that leaves her eyes teary, world dizzy. She knows it’ll be painful if she doesn’t pull away, a harsh orgasm building, but she can’t stop, not with him listening to her, waiting for her final bitter end.

She’s doing so good for him, such a good bunny. She trembles in the wake of such a violent euphoria, weak moans slipping in time with her belated breathing. It passes through in waves, the pain, a bittersweet burning welling deep inside her, but a different ache persists, one that leaves her yearning for more, one that makes her dig her feet into the mattress and press herself harder on the toy. Her toes curl, and her back arches, free hand twisting the sheets.

He hums appreciatively.

“My bunny likes it when it hurts. Doesn’t she?”

“Yes,” she sobs, “I want it to hurt.” Hips shuttering away from the relentless vibrator, Y/N feels her final orgasm build, pain lingering around the edges as her muscles twitch.

“Such a dirty little slut.” Her back arches at his filthy words, arousal pooling beneath her. She could feel it wetting her thighs. “Just f’me, right, honey? Just my pretty slut.”

She comes quickly, eyes rolling back as it overwhelms all of her senses. She feels tense yet relaxed. A broken cry breaks from her swollen lips as she shatters, falling apart for the final time. Her muscles quiver, tiny shocks lingering in the aftermath of so many orgasms in such quick succession. Her limbs ache. Her heart races. Her pussy throbs. She knows that this will be all she can take, her body completely spent. She can’t find the energy to keep her eyes open, and they roll back.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she says, still struggling to find her breath and collect her thoughts, but when she does, a smile breaks her face. She feels everything and nothing all at once, so perfectly numb. She finds herself laughing incredulously because that cocky little bastard was right: he made her come more times than anyone has before. She laughs until tears slip down her warm cheeks.

This is the part where the emotions start to become just as overwhelming as her release. So much sinks in all at once, and she realizes just how alone she is, and she wishes he was here to pull her back down to earth, to hold and to love. She feels deflated. The sexual release is such a rush, but it brings devastating lows. With tears in her eyes, she struggles not to cave into herself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies, a sob curling in her lungs, forcing its way out in a blubbering mess. Once the first one escapes, the rest follow easily. She can’t seem to stop, heaving cries wracking her already sore body as she clutches onto her pillow. She fists her phone to her ear in an attempt to be closer to him, but that makes the feeling grow worse, settling to a black hole in her stomach, sucking all euphoria from her. Tears soak into her skin and sink into her ear, muffling his comforting words.

“Let it out, babylove,” he says softly. “I know, I know. I know. Sometimes it can just get really overwhelming.” His words are gentle, just as he is, and maybe that’s what makes this even worse. He is everything she wants. He is just so perfect for her in every way, but he is ao far from her reach. Maybe it would be better if he wasn’t such a good person. Maybe that would make the yearning go away. She’s quiet, slowly breathing through stuttering sniffles.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Go pee and clean yourself up, babe. Know you don’t like feeling all wet down there. It makes your peach all sticky.”

She nods, knowing full well that he can’t see her, but doesn’t move. She honestly doesn’t think she can.

“Go on,” he murmurs when he doesn’t hear the familiar rustling of her sheets. “‘M right here, honey.”

A few more tears squeeze out of her eyes at his words. It makes her whole demeanor crumble once again; she’s upset because he’s not really there, he’s not there to hold her and kiss her and love her, and that’s not fair. She just wants to have him here to tell her that everything will be alright; she wants him to be there to laugh with, to just be with. He is such a good part of her life, but she just wishes that he could physically be there in the way she dreams.

She cleans up quickly, tossing her spent underwear into her dirty laundry. Just as she had suspected, the remnants of her orgasms stained her thighs.

What’s that ache in her chest?

“Good girl, feel better, lovie?”

She nods and whimpers, unable to calm her trembling lips.

“Good, ‘m right here, babylove. Y’did so good, so proud of you.”

She crawls back to bed moments later, shuddering breaths and swollen eyes being the only remnants of her breakdown. She sniffles and wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand, which smells vaguely of her feminine wipes.

“Sorry, if it was too much,” he says.

“No, no need to apologize,” she says quickly to get rid of any lingering guilt he has. It felt amazing, to be tested just beyond her limits, to be pushed to a shattering breaking point, to trust him to know what she can take. “It was nice. I just sorta—” Her voice breaks. “I dunno. Everything just got a little overwhelming. I think I’m better now.”

“What do you need from me, honey?”

She nearly starts crying again at how sweet he is. She almost could imagine that only a few minutes ago he was calling her his dirty little slut and demanding her to come until she could handle it.

“Just talk to me,” she says.

“So, I saw a couple dogs today,” he begins awkwardly. “Well, I was attacked by two little frenchie’s when I was walking to class, and it completely made my day ten-times better. They were so cute with their chubby little legs.”

He rambles on about his week, and it feels nice and familiar.

She’s nearly asleep when he begins talking about his mother. Apparently, she was visiting him last week, which was nice for about a day; then, he began realizing why he moved away in the first place: she is so smothering.

“And my mum is always nagging me to go out and socialize. She was like,” he breathes in, adjusting his tone to a falsetto. “Harry, you’re never gonna be able to find anyone if you don’t…”

He continues as normal, chattering away in his low, sleepy voice. She doesn’t think he even realizes his slip up, words spluttering out of his mouth so quickly that even he probably couldn’t hear it. She smiles as sleep finally overwhelms her.

Harry.

His name is Harry.

—

#also if this is too niche and it flops lets just forget it happened #okay? okay.#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #ellie writes #ellie writes smut #ellie writes filth #gif not mine #credit to owner

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fallinallincurls · 2 months

Text

pancakes for two, i will always love you

this is my (late) entry for demi's lowkey lovefest 2k24! thank you so much for hosting this fun little challenge @wyattjohnston!

this fic is also a belated birthday gift to the amazing @desiredposion!! inspiration struck and i had to make the most of it so i hope you love this! this was also my first time writing for nico which was so much fun.

prompt used: "don't ever stop looking at me like that."

heavily inspired by the lyrics "maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two, hash brown, egg yolk, i will always love you" from keep driving by harry styles

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.3k+

~~~~~

Dating a professional hockey player means that slow mornings are a rarity. Usually, Nico is up and out the door for morning skate before your eyes even open. But today, you’re lucky enough to get the extra time in bed with the man you love for the first time in what feels like forever.

As sunlights bathes the room in a subtle, but beautiful golden glow, you snuggle in closer to Nico in an effort to absorb the heat radiating from his body. His strong arms tighten around you instinctively and even though his eyes remain closed, he presses a kiss to your forehead before dropping his head into the crook of your neck.

“Morning, Neeks.”

“Mm,” He hums contently, making you giggle and you relish in the rough feeling of his scruff against your skin. You card a hand through his tousled hair, earning a soft moan in response.

“Come on, schatzi.” He murmurs, dragging out the syllables of each word as a slight smirk appears on his lips. “You know how much I like it when you play with my hair.”

“Oh trust me, I know.” You chuckle, moving your hand to his cheek just as Nico lifts his head and his gorgeous brown eyes meet yours. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, the playfulness that was evident just seconds ago fading even though the identical tender smiles on your faces continue to grow.

“We don’t get to do this enough.” Nico whispers, gaze never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. You rest a hand on his bare chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart and try to commit every detail about this moment to memory. Nothing but pure adoration rushes through your veins as you admire the beautiful man next to you.

“That’s okay. It makes these rare mornings that much more special.”

“I’m going to tell the team we can’t ever have practice until after 10 at the earliest.” Nico grins, his dimples appearing as he laughs at his own little joke.

“You have that power as captain?” You tease, pressing a kiss to his nose, his cheek, and finally his lips. Nico smiles into the kiss before deepening it for a few seconds, bringing out that familiar need for him.

“I don’t really know, but I deserve some more time with my girl so I’ll make it a rule. I don’t care what anyone says.” He mumbles against your lips, voice low and still full of sleep.

Your heart swells as you drink in the sight of your boyfriend. Nico’s eyes are sparkling with love and his sweet smile is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. His hair is a mess but somehow still looks perfect and you absentmindedly trace shapes on his shoulder, feeling the well toned muscles there.

He is a dream. And despite all odds, you’re the lucky one who gets to love him every single day. That’s something you’ll never take for granted because you never thought you’d find someone as kind, caring and amazing as Nico.

Yet, here you are.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Nico presses another tender kiss to your cheek before pulling away like he’s going to get up.

“Hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” You tease him, grabbing onto his forearm in an effort to keep him in bed.

“To make breakfast?” Nico replies, more as a question than a statement. His brows knit together in confusion and the cutest look crosses over his facial features.

“Right now? We can’t stay and cuddle for five more minutes?” Nico can’t help but chuckle at the adorable pout you’re putting on display, but doesn’t give into your antics. Instead, he leans down to give you one last kiss before heading towards the bedroom door.

“Yes, right now. By the time you’re done with your morning routine, everything will be ready. I promise. We have all day to be cozy and do absolutely nothing.” He reassures you, that cheeky smile of his blossoming across his lips and bringing out his dimples again.

“Not fair, Neeks!” You call after him, that giddy feeling of happiness rushing through you when you hear his laughter floating down the hallway. After soaking in the warmth for a few more seconds, you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed to shower and get your morning routine done.

And true to his word, when you enter the kitchen dressed in sweats and one of Nico’s shirts ready for a lazy day in with your boyfriend, you find the counter covered in a full breakfast spread. A mug of coffee made just the way you like it, pancakes for two, maple syrup, hash browns and eggs are all plated and ready to be enjoyed.

“Nico,” You breathe out, shock and awe evident in your voice. Nico is always doing something sweet for you, no matter how big or small, but you weren’t expecting this at all. “What is this for?”

“Just because.” Nico shrugs, a bashful look on his face. His cheeks are pink with blush and those gorgeous brown eyes are twinkling with excitement. “We don’t get many mornings together like this. I wanted to spoil you. Made all your favorites.” He admits before stealing a kiss from you and passing you a full plate he somehow put together without you noticing.

“I love you.” There’s nothing else you can say. After all the time together, these little gestures still warm your heart and are the kindest reminders of Nico’s love for you.

“I love you too, schatzi. Now come on, let’s eat. We’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do today.” Nico teases, sitting down next to you at the table.

As you enjoy breakfast together, the two of you talk about everything and anything. Nico tells you some funny stories from practice yesterday and catches you up on all the drama about how Jack likes a girl, but won’t make a move. You fill him in on your latest project at work and how you scheduled a girls day with your best friend for later that week.

“We’re going to check out that new bookstore in Hoboken! The one right by the restaurant we really like on the waterfront. I’m looking for the next book in the series I’m reading so hopefully they have it.”

Noticing Nico has been quiet the whole time you’ve been talking, your rambling trails off. But before you can ask what’s wrong, your breath is stolen away. Because when you take in the sight of your boyfriend, you see the fondest look on his face. One that you recognize of pure love and adoration. It’s the look of someone who has found exactly where they should be. The look of someone who has found happiness in the simplicity of spending their life with another person.

“Please don’t ever stop looking at me like that.” You murmur, the words slipping past your lips before you even realize what you’re saying. Nico’s gentle smile just grows, his hand reaching for yours.

“Like what?” He teases, that familiar playfulness evident through his question.

“Like nothing else in the world matters but the love that we have. Like you’re the happiest right here with me.”

“I am the happiest with you. Always will be.” Nico whispers before pulling you in for a deep kiss. He says everything with that kiss, words aren’t necessary and wouldn’t do justice to how he feels about you. You melt into his gentle touch, smiling against his lips as everything else falls away for just a moment.

“And you’re right,” He starts when the kiss breaks, his big brown eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing else even compares to the way I love you.”

And right then, over pancakes and coffee that Nico made you, you know he’s going to be the man you marry. The one you spend the rest of your days with. Because this kind of love is once-in-a-lifetime and you don’t want to go through life without him by your side.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier fics #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier blurbs #nico hischier fluff #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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justmystyles · 3 months

Text

The Morning After

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,583

trigger warning: vomiting

summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.

a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy?

It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself.

The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note:

For the lightweight in my life.

A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened.

“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly.

You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.”

You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze.

He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share.

You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?”

“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?”

You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight.

He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”

It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?”

He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.”

Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned.

“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology.

“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”

You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”

“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.”

“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone.

“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…”

Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”

Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?”

You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words.

“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.”

Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.”

When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper.

“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?”

“Toothbrush…”

He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”

You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you.

“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly.

You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth.

His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”

You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse.

Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”

You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”

Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.

“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms.

“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing.

“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”

You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.”

“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful.

You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake.

Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.”

Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly.

“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe.

He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head.

“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him.

“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles.

You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements.

He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.”

I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him.

When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”

Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?”

“Definitely.” You say without hesitation.

He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly.

You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.”

“What can I do for you right now?”

“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.”

Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?”

You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”

“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you.

You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”

“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

“Your girl…” You sigh.

He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?”

“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.”

Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.

You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem! reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader

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vanteguccir · 3 months

Text

watching you read | harry styles

Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Where Y/N loves reading the books Harry buys for her, and Harry loves watching her read.

Warning: None.

Author's note: I wrote a version of this scenario for Chris Sturniolo as well, but my biggest inspiration for this was Harry. If you want to read Chris version, it's on my masterlist.

PS.: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed contentedly, making herself comfortable in the armchair she was sitting in the living room of her house, the new book Harry had bought her the day before was open in her hands, her eyes running over the words on the yellowed pages as her head moved slowly to the light beat of the music playing from the record player.

The golden hour sun hit her legs folded against her chest, warming her.

Her attention was so focused on the story that Y/N didn't hear the front door open and close seconds later, much less the sound of keys being hung right next to the entrance and the sound of a bag resting on the floor.

Harry opened a smile when he saw his girlfriend sitting so comfortably in the living room of their house, taking off his Adidas sneakers and placing them against the wall next to the door, walking towards the woman.

Finally, Y/N raised her head in surprise when she felt a presence behind her, looking at Harry and relaxing instantly, closing her eyes when she felt the brunette's lips against her forehead.

"Hello my love, are you enjoying the book?" Harry asked quietly against Y/N's hair, as if he was afraid to speak loudly and burst the bubble they were both in.

"Uhm, the story is super engaging." She responded in the same tone, pushing her head back until she rested it against Harry's chest, which he sighed in appreciation before slowly pulling away.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, do you want some tea?" The singer asked her, taking his cap off his head and beginning his slow walk to the stairs, ready to step into the hot shower.

"Yes, please." Y/N replied with a smile in her voice, turning her eyes back to the book.

A few minutes later, Harry was coming down the stairs again, now wearing only cotton pants and white socks, the smell of soap trailing behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.

His hands, now only wearing the promise ring he shared with his girlfriend, worked on turning on the stove to heat the water while he picked up two small cups with flower designs that Y/N joked that looked like her grandmother's, but secretly loved them.

Harry fetched the tea bags from his favorite brand, distributing them into the two cups, walking to the stove to pick up the kettle that was already whistling, turning off the heat and filling the cups with the right amount, before putting the kettle back in place and picking up the teas carefully, walking slowly to the living room.

Y/N looked up again as she heard Harry approach, seeing her boyfriend place their cups side by side on the coffee table before walking over to Y/N, lifting her into his arms with ease, his muscles momentarily appearing more in his arms, before he sat where Y/N was seconds before and placed her on his lap.

"I still don't know how you can do that." Y/N spoke with an amused expression, looking at Harry's greenish field.

"I train every day so I can treat you like the princess you are." He responded jokingly, making his girlfriend laugh and roll her eyes.

She arranged herself on Harry's thighs, bringing her feet to rest on his knees so that her own thighs were against her chest, the book resting on them and being held upright by one of her hands, while the hand with the painted nails in pink and with the promise ring circled Harry's nape, running her fingers carefully through the hair on there.

Harry raised his left hand so that he held the free side of the book, preventing it from closing, while his right hand rested on her back, drawing small circles in the area. Y/N smiled in gratitude, bringing her face closer to Harry's and planting a lingering kiss on his stubble, enjoying the feeling his small hairs made against her moisturized lips.

"I love you." Harry whispered, enjoying the act of affection.

"I love you more." Y/N responded, pulling away a little just so she could kiss him on the lips lightly, just a touch of lips, exhaling and enjoying the smell of soap and men's shampoo that surrounded him.

The woman backed away a few seconds later, turning her face forward so that she could see the page completely, going back to delve into the story, smiling small when she felt Harry's eyes on her face, analyzing her carefully.

The only sounds filling the room were their light breathing and the melody coming from the record player, which Harry accompanied sometimes, warming Y/N's heart.

This was her home, and she wouldn't trade Harry's arms for anything in the world.

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moodcafe · 2 years

Photo

♫ now playing: golden by harry styles | for @happyheidi

#10k event #Barista Shirley #moodboard #mb #archive mb #archive moodboard #17

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meangirls-imagines · 1 month

Text

Welcome to the Poly!Plasticsverse!

collab with: @yungpoetfics (my fav bubs in the world)

Regina George

@queenbgina/@callmereginald (she/her)

North Shore's Queen Bee

Soft for her girlfriends

The mom of the group

Basically a sugar mommy for her girls

Lifehack Geek

TikTok hater

Has rational fear of werewolves

Will fight a bitch

Victoria's Secret girly

Female rapper stan (Doja, Cardi, Megan, etc.)

Gryffindor

Lesbian

Gretchen Wieners

@thegretchenw/@greatgretsby (she/her/it (only if ur special))

The second mom of the group

Softest human

Loves playing with her girlfriends hair

#1 Twilight hater

Has a letterboxd account just to leave bad reviews

The level headed one usually, but will snap when she needs

Cuddly as fuck

Loves Fleur du Mal lingerie

Stubborn as Fuck

Wine drinker/expert

Loves vintage music (Elvis, Elton John, etc.)

Hufflepuff

Bisexual

Karen Shetty

@karebearz/@karensheetty (any pronouns)

Ambidextrous™️

Loves Spongebob

Plant Parent

Knows Britney Spears and Lady Gaga choreo

Kpop girly (Blackpink, BTS, etc.)

Lettering expert

Has Funko Pop collection

Squishmallow lover

Ravenclaw

Pansexual

Cady Heron

@cady_heron/@defnotcaddy (she/her)

The third mom of the group

Whispers when angry

Carries bandaids at all times

Always has snacks

Lactose Intolerant (but LOVES cheese)

Cries at Rom-Coms

LOVES hugs

Cannot handle spicy food

Sleeps with a teddy bear

Happy to be here

Friends with everyone's parents

Token vanilla of the group

Has diary (with a heart shaped lock)

Bisexual

Aaron Samuels

@aaronsammy/@atomicaaron (he/him) or (ho/mie)

1/3 of Terror Trio

Y/N's best friend

North Shore's resident Himbo

Will do anything if someone says "I dare you"

Impulsive buyer

Has one brain cell (shares it with Y/N)

Overuses 💪 emoji

Usually confused

1/2 Golden Retriever duo

Can skateboard

Uses Axe body spray

Co-founder of Stuntmares

Dreams of grabbing a teddy in a claw machine (bucket list item)

Ass man

Owns too many grey sweatpants

Kisses his homies (homiesexual)

Has never watched Harry Potter

Watches lifestyle coaches on YT

Can play the ukulele (really badly)

Loves Eminem and Harry Styles (would fuck Harry Styles)

Writes Larry Stylinson fanfics

Kissed Y/N once (regretted immediately)

Bisexual

Damian Hubbard

@hubbarddamian/@damianishubby (he/him/they)

Learned how to sew from Janis

Does drag and has a YT channel (Anita Dick)

Huge Adore Delano stan

Will fight anyone who hurts Janis

Doesn't like Rupaul as a person, but is a religious Drag Race fan

#1 Poly!Plastics fan

Has an 8 step skincare routine

Cameraman for Stuntmares

Earlybird

Lies about having curfew to go to sleep early

Ravenclaw

(Lowkey wishes he was a Slytherin bc it's the "cuntiest house"

Him and Karen watch The Bachelor

Fav movie is Dirty Dancing (did the lift with Janis)

Learned how to twerk from Y/N

Gay

Janis Imi'Ike

@janiisimiike/@imiikenough (she/they)

Secret Barbie girly(live action and animated movies)

Will go straight for Ryan Gosling

Feral chihuahua of the group

Hozier stan

HATES THE KARDASHIANS

Pain in Regina's ass

Anger Issues™️

Secretly loves Olivia Rodrigo

Mentally Ill friend

Emotional Drunk

Karaoke Queen

Tits girly

Leather Jacket lesbian

Getting piercings > therapy

Has a suit collection

Thrifter

Loves her friends

Dog person (secretly)

Quotes niche memes

Kinky af

Middle Child

Lesbian

Y/N Y/L/N (FC: Chrissy Costanza)

@thisbeyn/@reginaslefttit (she/he/they/it)

2/3 Terror Trio

2/2 Golden Retriever duo

Has matching fried egg tattoo with Aaron.

Co-Founder of Stuntmares

"Hi, I'm Y/N and welcome to Stuntmares" *jumps off roof into pool*

Cuts her own hair

Blooper Reel Queen

North Shore's resident stoner

AUDHD (autistic + ADHD)

Playlists range from Beethoven to ashnikko

"IT'S NOT A PHASE. IT'S A LIFESTYLE."

Demisexual

Plays electric guitar

Has slight speech impediment

Gremlin of the group

D&D Dungeon Master

ALWAYS falls asleep during movie night

Power Nap Addict™️

Insomniac

Monster Energy Drink Enthusiast (collects the cans)

Oddly good at Origami

Tweets everything she thinks

Has been banned from Fortnite and Roblox

Married to Gretchen on The Sims (regina and karen were sad)

Anger issues

✨Spicy✨ Latina (do not fuck with her people)

Matching rings with her gfs

Def had one night stand with Cady

Shane Oman

@shaneomann/@omantastic (he/him) or (dumb/hoe)

Loves Old School Rap (Biggie, Tupac, Snoop Dogg, etc.)

Hates Y/N at first but comes to love her like a sister.

Only person who can outsmoke Y/N.

Has a dropped truck with red LED lights under it.

Blasts music walking down the halls.

Always has the zoomies.

Orange cat friend.

Has elevator music playing in his head 24/7.

Challenged Damian to a dance off. (He lost. But he had girls simping over him)

Posts thirst traps on TikTok. (Regina's mom is his #1 follower)

Has a frying pan tattooed to match Aaron and Y/N.

Always on Stuntmares trying to create new world records.

Or eating a bunch of weird combos.

"Oman! Not again!" *proceeds to eat a marshmallow and spam sandwich*

Ralph Lauren man

Whenever the polycule argues, he's a "fuck this shit, I'm out" person.

Professional party crasher

Dine and Dash expert

Has nipple piercings (Aaron and Y/N dared him to get them)

Curses like a fucking sailor (Half of his lines on Stuntmares are just censor beeps)

Talks way too fast.

Knows Italian and Spanish (Him and Y/N talk shit in Spanish)

His ringtone for Aaron and Y/N is the remix of the Windows error sound

Loves t-shirts with offensive prints (Regina tries to make him dress normally)

Has gc with Aaron and Y/N called "Hoemies"

Would fuck Aaron

TICKLISH

Major gossip (Him and Gretchen meet once a week to talk shit)

#regina george x reader #karen shetty x reader #gretchen wieners x reader #aaron samuels #cady heron #janis imi'ike #damian hubbard #poly!plasticsverse

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 4 months

Note

hi so the New York Times just published a gaylor manifesto and since you’ve been my main source of info for this stuff I wanted to share it https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/04/opinion/taylor-swift-queer.html

sigh.

okay. if anyone wants to read along, check out the unpaywalled article here:

https://archive.is/uHxuV

before we really get into this I just want to say that I looked into author Anna Marks' previous contributions to the NYT opinion column, of which there are two: a piece about how Marks, as a queer fan, is "heartbroken" by Harry Styles 'appropriating" queer culture by wearing ugly clothes, and an audio piece about how women referring to themselves as "girls" on TikTok is actually radical feminist praxis. so. hot mess express up in here.

anyway this piece is a shitshow that basically plays at the greatest hits from Gaylor conspiracy theories, mainly harping on her inability to come out because of some intangible threat it would pose to her career:

While Ms. Swift’s songs, largely written from her own perspective, cannot always conform to the idea of a woman our culture expects, her celebrity can. That separation, between Swift the songwriter and Swift the star, allows Ms. Swift to press against the golden birdcage in which she has found herself. She can write about women’s complexity in her confessional songs, but if ever she chooses not to publicly comply with the dominant culture’s fantasy, she will remain uncategorizable, and therefore, unsellable. Her star — as bright as it is now — would surely dim.

immediately beneath this is an image of Taylor Swift crumpled face-down onstage, looking wet; if nothing else, it's peak melodrama.

the most glaring thing about this, to me, is Marks' willful omission of other queer pop stars. she opens the article with a jarring discussion of lesbian country singer Chely Wright's 2006 suicide attempt and mentions a few contemporary celebrities who have been encouraged to stay closeted - Cara Delevingne, Colton Haynes, Elliot Page, Kristen Stewart, Raven Symoné and Sam Smith - but with the obvious exception of Smith, they're hardly Swift's peers. as I've said before in my worst and most stupid post, the argument that outing herself would "dim Taylor's star" falls apart pretty significantly when you look at the success of artists like Lil Nas X, Billie Eilish, Doja Cat, Cardi B, and Halsey. Taylor Swift had a bigger year in 2023 than any of them combined, frankly; coming out as queer wouldn't slow her down in the slightest. why the fuck are gaylors so determined to act like she's beholden to a fanbase comprised entirely of conservatives?

also everything about how coming out is sooooo hard for famous people because they're subject to scrutiny and weird behavior as if that's not? something Taylor Swift already deals with? hello hi? get a grip I implore you. why are we wasting webspace on this.

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updownlately · 10 months

Text

everything feels right (since you came along)

| ingrid engen x reader | fluff | 6.2k | inspo: fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and golden by harry styles | a/n: this one's been in the works for nearly a month now...definitely challenged me but we got there in the end. thanks for the req! hope this is to your liking! Idk if managed to capture ingrid's personality or not but i can at least say i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~~~

You loved challenges. Or at least that’s what you told yourself, convinced yourself was the truth. You took pride in tackling difficulties in your life, facing any and each issue head on. So when you showed up to the training grounds of the FC Barcelona team, you didn’t really understand why you were so nervous.

Wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts, you contemplated why you had accepted the offer. Here you were, six thousand miles away from your childhood home and one thousand away from your second home, alone, in a country you had visited less than a handful of times, on a mission to prove yourself. You hadn’t really didn’t thought this through, had you?

Mentally kicking yourself for doubting yourself and then for being so socially awkward, you shook your head. You had this. You didn’t become a top class midfielder by doubting yourself. You hadn’t put in all this effort only to question if you deserved this opportunity.

Shaking your head, you pushed the negative thoughts of your mind, rolling your shoulders in a successful attempt to gain some confidence before finally grabbing your bag from beside you and stepping out of your car.

Mentally hyping yourself up, you had just barely shut your car door before an unfamiliar voice reached your ears, the smile on the speaker’s face nearly audible.

“Hi! You’re the new signing right?”

Turning your head around, it took everything in you for you to hide your shock (and awe) at who stood in front of you.

“I- uhm, yeah- I mean yes, yes I’m the new signing.” Stammering, you willed yourself to act at least somewhat collected.

“Well I’m glad we get to finally play with you and not against you, speedy. If I remember correctly, you and Leah had given us enough of a tough time the last time we played you.” Thankfully, the teasing tone didn’t go over your head, a smile appearing on your face at the friendly nature of the other midfielder. She began to walk past you, looking over her shoulder and slowing down, silently beckoning you to join her.

Taking long strides, you quickly caught up to her, falling in step beside her as you both crossed the parking lot.

“To be fair, your guys’ attacks weren’t any easier to stop by any means. Especially those of the sneaky number 11. Seemed like she had magnets on her feet and the ball with how fluidly she moved across the pitch,” you smiled back, the nerves in your body lessening slightly.

“I like you…you’re going to fit in well.” There was a smile on the taller girl’s face, a fond shake of her head further supporting her belief.

“I hope so,” you whispered. Unfortunately for you, your voice came out more panicked than you intended, the nervousness clear from the way it slightly shook.

Stopping in her tracks, the blonde turned towards you and put a hand on your shoulder, your footfall also pausing.

“Hey…listen to me, you didn’t just walk into here demanding a spot on the team. You earned it. And don’t be nervous about the girls either, they’re all really nice, I promise. Just relax, be yourself, vale?”

You nodded in response, inhaling deeply to try and calm yourself.

“They’re all really excited to meet you, ever since you were announced. Mapi’s actually already been talking about how you and her could master breaking multiple defences with your speed and her passing.”

You grin this time, warmth spreading in your body at the fact that the girls were already accepting you into the team. Letting Alexia lead the way, you followed her as she led you through the halls.

It was a a few short minutes later that the two of you were standing outside the locker rooms, loud yelling and laughter audible even through the thick walls and shut door.

“Excuse them, they can be a little hyper sometimes…” Alexia stated, head shaking fondly as she opened the door and ushered you in.

Entering the room however, the whole immediately quietened, almost as someone took a remote to the room and hit pause.

You were met with over a dozen smiles, a handful of the girls waving at you as you looked around the area.

Nervousness taking over your body again, you bashfully smiled back, raising your hand and giving a timid wave.

Almost as if she was sensing your nervousness, Alexia stepped up from where she was behind you and addressed the team.

“As you all are aware, we have a new teammate joining us today, I know you all will be welcoming but still, do your best to make her comfortable and please don’t be weird around her, at least for today.”

Shooting you a soft smile, Alexia headed towards her own locker, wordlessly gesturing for you to do the same.

Glancing around, noting the only open locker being beside number 23, you hesitantly made your way over. Standing a mere few feet away from her, you waited as she looked up from tying her laces. You had met Ingrid a few times before, it came with being friends with Frida. Your interactions with the other midfielder were limited, yet, unbeknown to the Norwegian, you’d always been mesmerised by her confidence and beauty, admiring the way she so easily glided between teammates and fans.

Nodding in question when you met eyes with her, you raised your eyebrows, silently asking about the locker beside her. The taller girl answered in the same manner, shuffling over, shooting you a gentle smile, one that you returned with ease.

Settling down beside her, you murmured a small hello, too shy for anything else. Caught up in unpacking your kit bag, you failed to notice the admiring gaze that Ingrid sent your way.

Deciding to take initiative, the Norwegian spoke.

“Glad to have you here. It’s going to be fun playing Frida now, at least I can be the one bragging to her about our fantastic mid-line.” Head snapping up from where it was buried in your bag, in the midst of looking for a hair tie, you tried and failed to hide your surprise.

“I- uh, huh?” You squeaked. Disbelief rolled through you. Not only did the Barcelona girls just accept you into the squad without the least bit of doubt, Ingrid, class midfielder Ingrid, pro at reading attacking plays Ingrid was complimenting you right now. You couldn’t tell if life was real right now.

Stopping your internal fan-girling, you spoke again. “I mean, you guys have an amazing mid-line, an amazing team all-around really. I don’t think I can improve perfection.”

“Considering I nearly hated playing against Arsenal last season, I’d beg to differ.” The dark-haired girl shot you a cheeky smile, unknowingly melting your heart.

“Fine, fine. Just know I’m just as excited to be here. And if it counts for anything, games against you guys were some of the hardest.”

“Team of champions right? More so now that you’re here.” You couldn’t tell if the other girl was trying to turn you to mush or make you feel comfortable, but whatever she was doing, you didn’t want her to stop.

You could only respond with a smile and a “hopefully”, your heart beating too fast at her compliments to string any other words together.

The two of you silently finished getting ready, your hair still loose. Following the rest of the girls out together however, you both at the back, you were failing miserably at putting your hair in a bun, it too short to stay without something holding it in place.

Noticing your struggle, Ingrid took her spare elastic off her wrist and handed it to you. “You know you could just ask one of us? And definitely me?”

A sheepish smile on your face, you took the hair tie. “I do now.”

And as you walk out together, Ingrid asking if you’d like to partner up for the day, you couldn’t help but feel even more relaxed, the homey and welcoming nature of the club (and of course of the brunette beside you) bringing you a sense of calmness.

~~~

It seemed like nervousness was becoming a common theme for you here in Spain. You were currently sat in the team bus, waiting as the rest of the team filed in. A pre-season game saw you all travelling out to Buñol to play a friendly against Levante. It wasn’t the fact that it was a pre-season that had you so worked up however. Just before leaving, Jonaton had pulled you aside, quietly informing you that you would be starting, news that came as a shock to you.

Since joining the team a slight over a month ago, you had barely played as a sub, much less as a starter, still trying to get a feel for where you fit in and the high on-field intensity of the team, so the decision had you dumbfounded. You assumed it was so that the coaching staff could figure out where to play you and how to best utilise you without the stress of it being an important game, but unfortunately for you, the once low-stress game had now become the main root of your anxiousness.

Headphones blasting, you noted as the doors to the bus finally closed, the last few stragglers taking a seat. It was then that the seat next to you was finally filled, your new bus-buddy appearing with her signature smile shining.

You couldn’t help the grin that took over your face, overriding your inner turmoil, the taller girl’s smile infectious.

“This seat taken?”

“Ingrid,” you shook your head in amusement, “do we really need to do this every time?”

The girl in front of you shot you a teasing wink before sitting down, a playful ‘yes’ escaping her lips.

The first day that the team had to travel, you had apprehensively boarded the vehicle, unsure of who you would sit beside, very much aware that there was a system to this, regardless of what team you were on. You had anxiously looked around, slowly stepping further down the walk way until you had made eye contact with Ingrid, her waving a hand to beckon you over.

Walking up to her, you had asked her the exact same question as seconds ago, and the Norwegian had just fondly shook her head, tilting it to the side. “I saved it for you.”

Your head had ducked down in embarrassment, endearment causing a slight blush to coat your cheeks, before you had taken a seat beside the brunette, her passing you one of her earbuds before relaxing into her own seat.

Since that day, it had become a sort of ritual between you two. You had only had a few bus rides since but each one consisted of either of you reaching the bus, sometimes together, and claiming a set of seats in the middle. When the other would eventually join, headphones would be shared or connected, the both of you more than excited to share your love of music, bonding over your versatility in styles.

So, as per tradition, Ingrid sat down beside you and you passed her your phone, letting her set up the shared airplay for herself.

Your thoughts being drowned out by the music humming through your earbuds, you let your head rest against the window, your leg bouncing fervently, partially in beat to the music but also due to your unease. Really, your whole body was thrumming, nervous energy almost palpable by the girl beside you.

You weren’t sure how long passed, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the chatter of the team fading to mere background noise. All you were aware was that between the handful of genres and songs the both of you had queued up, at least seven had passed, your nervousness not lessening like you had hoped it would.

Turns out, it wasn’t just you that was keeping track of your kangaroo leg. Ingrid was nearly losing her mind seeing you bounce up and down. The blurry motion of your limb just barely managing on, seeming as if it would fly off if it hadn’t been attached to your torso. She wondered why you were so hyper. It was only a friendly game after all.

Taking a deep breath in, she reached out to you, placing a gentle hand on your thigh, just above your knee.

The touch snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at the Norwegian, a wry smile on your face, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Your leg. It keeps bouncing. What’s the reason?”

Eyes widening, you contemplated telling Ingrid about what Jonaton told you. He didn’t say you couldn’t tell anyone right?

“Uhm- Jonaton just told me a little while ago that I’m starting. I think he wanted to give me the bus ride as time to prepare, but if anything, I think it just made me more anxious.” You let go of the breath you were holding, your chest easing just by telling the girl beside you.

“That’s good! Right?”

“I think so? I’m just worried I’m not gonna play well y’know? Even though it is just a friendly…”

“I think you’ll play great, really. Just pretend that it’s one of our practices and that we need to kick Patri’s butt so she doesn’t get too big-headed,” the brunette joked, hoping to get a laugh out of you.

It was a successful attempt, a slight smile appearing on your face.

Shoulder’s relaxing, you took a deep breath in, Ingrid’s relaxed demeanour bringing you a sense of calmness.

It didn’t last long however, your heartbeat reaching its earlier speeds as you realised that the dark-haired girl hadn’t moved her hand yet. You quickly peeked at where it was resting on your thigh, sneaking a glance at Ingrid as well. It seemed that the Norwegian hadn’t noticed where her hand was placed, and you didn’t want to bring it to her attention, too afraid she’d take the grounding touch away.

A small smile on your face, heart racing for all the right reasons, you let yourself get comfortable in your seat, eyes closing, revelling in the touch and ground presence of your person.

~~~

“Your cheeks are a bit too red for a team photo…everything okay?” You knew the taller girl meant it out of concern but you couldn’t help but flush more at her statement, finding the concern etched on her face endearing.

“I- yeah, no I’m okay?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” This time Ingrid turned to face you, taking the time to really check in with you while the photographer was still busy directing the rest of the team where to stand.

You could feel your face heating up now, starting to fan yourself to make it die down just enough that you wouldn’t look like a tomato in the photos.

“I’m okay. Sorry this is nerve-wracking.”

“It’s okay. It’s very easy. I promise. All you need to do is smile and look good, and you are already really pretty, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Ingrid’s words brought another wave of heat to your face, you now ducking your head down in order to avoid anyone seeing you so red.

Laughing at your reaction to her statement, the Norwegian smiled, proud of herself for eliciting this response. Choosing to put you out of your misery, the older draped an arm around you, leading you to where she was supposed to stand, photographer’s positioning be damned. Her arm resting on your shoulder, she pulled you in beside her, shooting anyone who tried to question your new position a glare.

You knew she meant well, but with her arm around your waist, Ingrid had just increased the already bright blush on your face by tenfold, resulting in you nearly looking like you’d been poorly sunburnt. Just with the knowledge that she chose to comfort you, chose to wrap an arm around your waist where no one else could see but you and her, your smile became electric, shining brighter, true happiness reaching your eyes.

~~~

Your first game with the team had been a success, if you were to say yourself. You hadn’t got much playing time, only being subbed in for the last twenty or so minutes, but with the team already up 3-0, the lack of pressure to play well allowed you to focus on connecting with your team. Sure, practices had given you the opportunity to learn how to fit in on the field, but mid-game? That’s where the real test was. And you were pretty sure you passed it, most, if not all, of your passes connecting, no fouls or cards your way, and you almost assisting a goal if it hadn’t been deflected last minute by the keeper. All in all, you were happy.

The team could tell, having witnessed your restless form on the bench throughout the first and second half, and in the locker rooms during half-time, where you chose to stand, shifting from foot to foot until Ingrid had pulled you down to sit beside her, the sides of your bodies flush together in order to fit on the cramped bench.

So seeing you now, chasing Ingrid and Aitana after they had dumped their water bottles on you, your own in your hand spraying reckless behind them, was a refreshing sight. Even Lucy, someone you had been lucky enough to play with on the Man City team, hadn’t seen you this relaxed post-game ever. If you asked her, she’d tell you that she was glad you fit in well with the youngsters on the team, and especially with the Norwegian you had dubbed ‘your extrovert’. The sunshine personality of the tall girl had brought out a more care-free you, evident by the way you were being piggybacked around the sidelines by a now-drenched Ingrid as Aitana trailed beside you both, the three of you interacting with fans.

By the time you all had made it into the change rooms, there was a content smile on all of your faces, you leaning into Ingrid as she quietly ushered you to change, the both of you whispering and laughing, unaware of all the fond smiles directed at you.

Yeah, if Lucy had anything to say, she kept quiet, adoring the sight in front of her, glad you weren’t putting too much pressure on yourself like you normally would. Mentally making a note to thank the Norwegian another day, she turned back to her kitbag, hearing your shared giggles fill the space near her.

~~~

“So what you’re basically telling me is that you’re addicted to coffee?”

You were currently out in the streets of Barcelona, the taller girl having nearly dragged you out after practice so she could show you her favourite cafes around the city.

“No. I just love the way it energises me and I know what good coffee tastes like.” “Meaning you’re dependent on coffee to get you through the day and you’ve tried enough coffee to be able to identify the imperceptible difference between good and bad brews?”

“Alright, now you’re just spinning my words.”

You merely shrugged in response, a teasing smile on your lips. “I’m not doing anything.” “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, yet here you are spending time with me?”

“I’m not answering that.”

You stopped in your tracks forcing Ingrid to stop too since your hands were intertwined.

Turning back to face you, she cocked her head to the side.

“Okay, what now?”

“I win.” “Oh my god, you’re insufferable. Listen, I’ll make you a deal…if you can tone down the annoyingness to zero, I’ll get you an extra pastry.”

“Tempting. You do love my annoyingness though...”

Rolling her eyes, Ingrid couldn’t stop her smile. “Sadly I do love it.” I might just love you.

“You have a deal. A pastry sounds heavenly right now.” Leading the way, you tugged on the brunette’s arm, the eagerness in your step at the promise of food taking her heart away and putting it in your hands.

~~~

“Why do you do this to yourself? And by choice?”

“Because it’s fun, and trust me, Alexia said the view at the end of this one is great!”

The two of you were currently up at half past five am, on a hike recommended to you by the two-time golden boot winner. You had somehow managed to drag Ingrid to do it with you, promising her a picnic and that you’d buy the coffee for the next week. (You didn’t know it, but Ingrid would’ve done it with or without the promise of coffee or food, happy to just be in your presence).

So here you were, about 1 third of the way done through the one and a half hour hike, the taller girl trailing behind you, questioning just why it was you of all people she had to fall for, silently of course.

The sun was set to rise at just slightly past seven, giving the two of you plenty of time to set up the breakfast picnic that you were currently carrying in your backpack. Though, you’d have to make it up there, and at the rate that the usually excitable and energetic Norwegian was gruffing at, you weren’t sure if a completion was in the cards today.

Calling out behind you, you thought it would be worth a shot to bribe the midfielder even further.

“If we make it to the top before….,” you checked your watch calculating the time, “fifteen before seven, we can have a movie night tonight, and I’ll let you pick whatever stupid horror movie you probably want to watch. How’s that for some motivation?”

Turning around to face the brunette, you waited for a response, her having stilled in her movement at the offer.

“Two movies, I get to pick both, and it’s at my place so that we can make a pillow fort.”

You were just about to agree to her terms, well-aware that she was as much of a child when it came to day to day activities as you were when the other girl beat you to it.

“Oh, and I get to pick the takeout,” you were met with a smug look, Ingrid confident that she was going to be the clear winner in this bargain, knowing how excited you were to do this hike.

“Ingrid…”

“I don’t mind turning back around?”

“You’re so stubborn, you’re lucky I’m the one who suggested this…” You couldn’t believe the cheekiness of the girl in front of you, laughing to yourself and shaking your head.

“Deal you dork. Now c’mon, we have a hike to finish and a time to beat.” Reaching your hand out, you let her take it, intertwining your fingers and pulling her in beside you, hands swinging in the limited space between your bodies.

Of all the people you could’ve taken a liking to here in Barcelona, in Spain, hell, the whole world, of course you had to choose the human golden retriever beside you. The one that was so perfectly stubborn, so energetic, and your anxiety-reducing, lovable, ray of sunshine here in the city. If you didn’t know any better, you’d spend the next few minutes of whatever minimal darkness there was in the sky looking for a shooting star, hoping you could have her in your life forever, preferably with a different title if the universe was feeling particularly kind.

~~~

“You do realise you can just ask her out right?”

Caro’s whispering brought Ingrid out of her trance. The two of them were sat in Alexia’s living room, the team deciding to hold a movie night under the pretence of a bonding session.

The midfielder had been staring at you, at your curled up body on the floor leaning what looked to be uncomfortable against the front of the couch. You had your legs pulled up to your chest, arms crossed above and head resting on the back of your folded hands. There was no way that could be comfortable and Ingrid knew it, longing to be able to just tuck you into her side, let you rest as she held you through your nap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ingrid shot back, voice a murmur, careful not to draw the attention of the other girls in the room.

“So the puppy dog eyes, always partnering up with her, sitting beside her, sharing your music with her, coffee dates and all have just been because you’re friends? Ingrid…she might be blind but we aren’t. I’m not.” Caro leaned away from Ingrid, not extremely worried about the other girls hearing her. They all knew, could see the heart eyes you two had for each other. It just seemed that while the both of you communicated extremely well on the pitch, the same excellency did not translate to both of you off the pitch.

Ingrid’s heart raced slightly just at the thought that you might return her feelings. Trying to remain cool though, she dismissed Caro’s (accurate) assumption. “No. We’re just friends. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“So you do like her.” The finality in Caro’s tone has the dark-haired girl frazzled.

“I-no. I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it…”

“I-no…listen, it’s-“

“Ingrid…just ask her out okay? One of these days, while you both are together, like you two always now seem to be, just ask her out. I don’t think the team could take any more of you both shooting heart eyes at each other when one of you aren’t looking.”

Head hanging down in embarrassment, Ingrid blushed at just how obvious she had been. Really though, she couldn’t blame herself. No one else ever had her smiling like you did. No one else brought butterflies to her stomach even close to what you brought each time you’d walk into the room.

“Are you sure?”

“About you two being obvious? Yes. It’s sickeningly sweet.”

“No, about her liking me back…”

“Oh. Yes.” The tone of finality in Caro’s voice wasn’t lost on the tall girl, her heart racing at the idea of you liking her back.

“Also, please could you get her to a more comfortable position? I rather not see her hunched over from back pain tomorrow…”

Cheeks hurting from just how much she was smiling, Ingrid went to gently shake you out of your slumber, pulling you up to a half-sitting, half-leaning position beside her in the limited space. In your sleep daze, you didn’t realise what was going on, your body focused on going back to sleep, and so you let yourself be pulled up and sat down, cuddling into the warmth beside you, blissfully unaware.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, you eventually waking up to the unabashed teasing of your teammates and the sight of a blush adorably coating your cuddle buddy’s face.

~~~

It was a few weeks later that a team dinner found the both of you sat beside each other, the rest of the team becoming accustomed to you two nearly doing everything as a pair. Even with something as insignificant as photos for social media, you both would always be stood by one another, Ingrid’s arm often slung over your shoulders, your own wrapped around her torso. So really, no one batted an eye when you both simultaneously scooted your chairs closer to each other, bursting out in laughter when you realised your shared action and timing.

And as the dinner went on, the two of you only jumping into the conversation once in a while, more content to be caught up in your own world, in your own little bubble, the team couldn’t help but tease you when you would chime in, exasperated at the fact that neither of you had admitted your feelings for the other. If they had it their way, the pair of you would have been locked in an equipment room together ages ago. Luckily for you however, Alexia had long warned the other girls not to meddle, a soft spot in her heart for the both of you.

Now though, the captain may have just slightly regretted that decision. Witnessing the two of you be so tuned in with each other, likely appearing as a couple to those that didn’t know you, all the blonde wanted to do was let the younger girls put their plan into motion.

“You know, I have a feeling it’d be a lot easier to tolerate you two if you just asked her out.”

Ingrid had just barely stepped away from the table to head to the washroom when Alexia quickly slid into the seat beside you.

“Huh what…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come one, you guys are so lovesick all the time. She shoots you heart eyes when you both get ready for training and you don’t stop smiling when she’s beside you. Honestly the sweetness is making me sick, it’s annoying. Ask her out, make it easier on us.”

Alexia sounded absurd to you. “She doesn’t like me like that.”

“Says who? You both are always touching in some sort of way. She always goes out of her way to stand beside you. And don’t deny how she always practically hugs you in photos.”

“She’s touchy with everyone.”

“Lo dice en serio? When’s the last time she gave anyone her hoodie? She gave it to you right away after you spilled water on your shirt.”

“She would’ve done it for anyone,” you argued. You couldn’t believe Alexia was really talking to you about this. You knew some of the girls like Aitana and Patri had been teasing you two about this but you’d never thought Alexia would join in. And so what if it was true that you did like Ingrid. She just liked you as a friend.

“So you’re telling me she would’ve told anyone that they look good in her clothes?”

Alexia’s words evoked your face to redden, mouth opening and closing a few times, words evading you.

“Listen, it’s not like that.”

Alexia hummed, turning to get up from the seat. “She’s probably coming back soon. You believe whatever you want to believe…”

You pouted at her statement, watching her as she walked across the table back to her seat just in time for the topic of conversation to appear in the vicinity.

Surely she didn’t reciprocate your feelings right? You would have been able to tell. If anything you both just got on really well and she appreciated that…right?

~~~

“You’ve been quiet. It’s not normal.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned to look at Ingrid.

The two of you were currently walking down the streets of Barcelona, the dinner having wrapped up only a short while ago. You both had (after a lot of back-and-forth) agreed that you’d walk the taller girl home, you joking that precious cargo should always be escorted.

“Just thinking…”

“About?”

“….stuff?” You answered, the statement more a question than a solid response.

“Well that doesn’t sound concerning.” Ingrid looked over at you, eyebrows perked up in question, waiting for you to continue.

Eyes shooting away to look ahead, you willed yourself not to make eye contact, choosing to continue walking.

It was after a couple of minutes of silence that you finally found your bearings and decided to take the chance.

“You think that if, hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would we be good? Like good together? ‘Cause everyone keeps saying it and…” Gaze drifting to see Ingrid’s shocked expression beside you, you quickly backtrack, embarrassment coating your cheeks. “I- uhm, forget that I said anything. It was a stupid question. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

Body slightly stiffening, you forced yourself to pretend like you hadn’t just made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

The pair of you walked quietly for a bit, both lost in your thoughts, too afraid to voice out your want for the other. Letting the hum of electricity from the dim streetlights and warm glow of the stars and moon soften the stifling silence, you let your mind wander into what the potential outcomes could be of this night. You could very well end up in a situation where Ingrid liked you back, yet that seemed so unlikely, too perfect for it to be true. What you were more concerned about at the moment was whether you’d lose a friend, one of the only people that brought you comfort in this new city and club.

Stuck in your musings, you didn’t realise when you were nearly outside Ingrid’s home, The sight of the familiar street nearly breaking you out of your thoughts, yet not distracting you enough. It was then, as you approached the front of her house that the Norwegian’s soft voice pulled you out of your own troubled thoughts of how much of an idiot you were.

As Ingrid stopped in front of the gate, you could feel your heart starting to pound increasingly harder. You really didn’t want to lose her as a friend. You didn’t know what you’d do. You hadn’t met anyone as energetic as her before, her sunshine personality drawing you in, trapping you in a warmth of light that you didn’t want to escape.

You knew you couldn’t fully tell her, but the way your heart would skip a beat when she’d casually drape an arm over your shoulders had you smiling. How she’d drag you throughout the numerous cafes she’s discovered in her time in the city, never failing to make your day. You were absolutely smitten if you were honest, and the thought of her not wanting to be friends after becoming aware of your feelings absolutely broke you.

Noticing your dazed expression, Ingrid grabbed your fingers with hers, the both of you now standing hands held, out in the night, almost like two fools ready to partake in playground activities. Her intent behind her actions however was successful, pulling you out of your thoughts and into the present with her.

Taking a deep sigh in, your eyes now looking up expectantly at her, Ingrid jumped off the cliff she’d been resting on since you joined.

“I’d like to think we’d be pretty good together.” You swallowed hard at her words, eyes growing wide, too afraid to say anything. “You aren’t the only one who’s thought about it…”

This time, it was your turn to be shocked. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Sorry- what?”

She took a deep breath beside you, eyes now barely meeting yours, instead staring past you.

Peeking over at you to assess your reaction, Ingrid let out the breath she was holding.

“I think…and I’m sorry if I make this weird…but I think- no I know I like you, like more than a friend. I think I always have, ever since you shyly sat beside me in the locker rooms that first day.” Sensing she had your attention and that you hadn’t yet nearly lost your mind at her, she continued. “I’ve liked you for a while now, I just didn’t want to make things weird between us…I don’t want to lose you as a friend though. So if you don’t feel the same please just let me know, because I don't know how much longer I can hold back the urge to be with you all the time.”

“You are pretty much with me all the time though, so I don't know what you’re holding back on.” You spoke, hoping your voice didn’t betray the smile on your face. You stood, staring at the ground, kicking at the little pebbles at your feet.

Ingrid looked up at you slowly, an incredulous expression on her face. “Is that all you have to say?”

Meeting her gaze, you revealed the smile that you were hiding. “I think…I think we should go on a date tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Wait- really?” Laughing at the surprise on Ingrid’s face, you stepped in a little closer.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’, a smile bright on your face, even in the dim light. “You and me and the cafe around the corner you like so much…I’ll swing by around nine?”

And as Ingrid eagerly nodded her head vigorously, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around her midsection, a chuckle espying your lips at her enthusiasm, nervous butterflies in your stomach finally, for the first time since you moved here, settling down into a comforting hum full of hope and happiness.

It felt good to be nervous, you liked this kind of nervousness.

Pulling the Norwegian close, a hug full of promises and a ‘see-you-later’, you couldn’t help but believe that maybe this move wasn’t so terrible after all.

(Future you would agree, a handful of years down the line, as you’d inevitably drag Ingrid on another hike, promises of date nights and cuddles a misdirection as you’d finally reach the peak, the brunette seeing the beauty of another sunset before turning to see the sight of you on one knee.)

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #ingrid engen imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #fluff #my writing #fic req #efr #not properly proofread but fuck it im posting #woso #woso one shot

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lovecanyon · 10 months

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STYLIST!Y/N GRAMMY BLURB!

MASTERLIST | PATREON

Y/N couldn't believe her luck as she walked arm-in-arm with her husband, Harry Styles, towards the red carpet of the 65th Annual Grammy Awards.

While she took in the sights and sounds of the most prestigious music event in the industry, she couldn't help but feel proud of the role she played in preparing her husband for his big night.

As Harry's personal stylist, Y/N had worked tirelessly to create the perfect ensemble for him to wear when he took the stage to perform his latest hit song. As they made their way down the red carpet, cameras flashed and fans screamed Harry's name. But Y/N's attention was focused on their ten year old daughter, Juliet.

She looked beautiful in her little black dress, which Y/N had carefully chosen and accessorized for her. Being able to share this special moment with her family made Y/N feel incredibly grateful.

Once inside, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the grandeur of the event. Everywhere she looked, she saw music legends and industry heavyweights.

But as Harry's performance drew nearer, her focus shifted once again. She made sure that he was looking sharp and feeling confident before he took the stage.

As Harry's performance began, Y/N felt her heart swell with pride. She couldn't believe how far he had come since they first met on the set of The X Factor. Now, here he was, performing at one of the most prestigious music events in the world.

Y/N knew that her role in his success was small but she couldn't be happier to support him in whatever way she could.

When it was Harry's turn to accept an award, Juliet was jumping up and down with excitement. Y/N held her hand tightly as they made their way to the stage, feeling like the proudest wife and mother in the world. Harry gave a heartfelt speech, thanking his fans and family, including Y/N for always keeping him looking sharp. Juliet couldn't stop clapping and cheering for her dad.

Throughout the night, Y/N and Harry were constantly being approached by fans and reporters alike, but they made sure to keep Juliet close and protected from the crowds.

Juliet, on the other hand, thrived on the attention and was more than happy to snap some pictures with fans and even some of the other celebrity kids in attendance.

After the show, Y/N and her family joined the after-party. She mingled with other stylists and industry professionals while Harry and Juliet danced the night away.

As they left the party, Y/N looked back at her family with a sense of contentment. She was proud of everything that they had accomplished together and couldn't wait to see what the future held for them.

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @seguin-styles1996 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @b-reads-things

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #boyfriend!harry #harry styles writing #husband!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #stylist!y/n #harry styles angst #dilf!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist

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kenshimybeloved · 6 months

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Part 3 of rambling !

The next time we see Johnny record something it’s Raiden using the amulet given to him by Liu Kang, and he’s finally excited to film. As things start to get significantly more interesting (considering they’re about to enter another realm through a fiery portal), we’ll see him pull his phone out more. But even with all of this going on around him, you’ll notice his facial expressions still aren’t exactly ecstatic. Impressed? Absolutely. Mesmerized? Not quite yet. However, we see him look over towards Kenshi while still recording the fiery portal, implying he didn’t have the conscious thought ‘I should get Kenshis reaction to this’- rather, he knows he should be paying attention to what’s happening in front of him, but he can’t help but look at the sexy swordsman. It’s then that he smiles and makes the decision to record him, maybe wanting to have a permanent reminder of what he looked like in this moment (who could blame him?). I also wanna point out real quick that Johnnys smile isn’t smug- it’s genuine. He’s not shoving the phone in Kenshis face to be purposely obnoxious, he just really likes him- even if he knows the feeling isn’t mutual (allegedly). It’s confirmed at the end of the game that Johnnys already decided Kenshi would be a main character of one or more of his films (he offers Kenshi to play himself at the end of the campaign, and in Johnnys tower ending as he’s saying he’s going to tell a bunch of mini stories we see Kenshi as one of the protags on his slideshow), so we can safely assume he’s recording Kenshi for the sake of his films, right? WRONG! That’s too easy. We also know he’s written Kung Lao and Raiden into his films, and he doesn’t make a point to shove his phone in their faces in this scene. There’s something special about Kenshi. Something intriguing. He’s so much more stoic and mysterious than the other two earth realmers he’s with, and quite the opposite of himself. When Kenshi notices Johnnys phone, he immediately pushes his hand away, clearly upset. Outside of their initial fight, this is the first time we see the two physically interact.

Edit: I forgot to add that while Kenshis reaction is definitely partly due to the fact that he finds Johnny to be annoying and disrespectful, I also think he’s uncomfortable with the idea of being seen. Throughout the story you’ll see Kenshi being his usual quiet self and nobody else really bats an eye- and I think he prefers it this way, it’s what he’s used to. When nobody’s looking at you there aren’t any expectations. But here comes Johnny, eager to make him more open. If I were Kenshi, this would definitely add to my apprehensions about Johnny. Why does he care so much? Why can’t he just let Kenshi be Kenshi? Not only do I think he’s uncomfortable being seen, I think it’s upsetting to him when Johnny pokes at him in front of others. It’s one thing to slowly open up to someone one-on-one, but in front of a bunch of strangers who’s opinions you highly value? What would they think if he started openly associating with Johnny? Would they lose respect for him? But again, I don’t even think Johnny was doing this intentionally this time. But Kenshi doesn’t know that, and I don’t think he even cares. It’s almost like Kenshi is also equally interested in Johnny, but because their personalities are so different they express it in different ways. Johnnys used to being in the spotlight and having zero privacy, trying to hide his feelings is just a waste of time. Kenshi is used to be reserved and unseen, the thought of openly liking someone is scary, especially someone like Johnny who draws a lot of attention. I also can’t really imagine it’s easy to form connections with people when you’ve been in a gang for such a long time. Anyways y’all know that song Golden by Harry Styles?

#mk1 #mortal kombat #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnshi #johnny x kenshi #who would’ve guessed I’d have a million words about an interaction that contains exactly zero #I’m trying to be normal about these two I really am #but they make it so hard #their storyline is just too good to not think about nonstop #navi rambles about johnshi

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pearlprincess02 · 17 days

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playlist for: TAURUS EDITION

part 1 for more artist

BY TAURUS MOON

"touch" - nct 127 / “warrior” - demi lovato / “dark side” - kelly clarkson / "impossible" - christina aguilera / "terrified" - childish gambino / “wait a minute” - the pussycat dolls / “confident” - demi lovato / "from home" - nct u / “pity party” - melanie martinez / "stand tall" - childish gambino / "find you" - nick jonas / “my life would suck without you” - kelly clarkson / "beautiful" - christina aguilera / “soap” - melanie martinez / "3005" - childish gambino / “give your heart a break” - demi lovato / "remember i told you" - nick jonas (feat. anne-marie, mike posner) / "walk away" - christina aguilera / “because of you” - kelly clarkson / “moonlight mile” - the rolling stones / “stone cold” - demi lovato / "bacon" - nick jonas (feat. ty dolla $ign) / "feels like summer" - childish gambino / "underappreciated" - christina aguilera / “dollhouse” - melanie martinez / “beep” - the pussycat dolls / “angie”- the rolling stones / "summertime magic" - childish gambino / “carousel” - melanie martinez / "teacher" - nick jonas / “i don’t need a man” - the pussycat dolls / “brown sugar” - the rolling stones / "numb" - nick jonas (feat. angel haze)

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"adorn" - miguel / "golden" - harry styles / "harvest moon" - neil young / "latch" - disclosure (feat. sam smith) / "stay" - rihanna (feat. mikky ekko) / "best part" - daniel caesar (feat. h.e.r.) / "the weekend" - sza / "electric feel" - mgmt / "sedona" - houndmouth / "crave you" - flight facilities (feat. giselle)

BY 2ND HOUSE MOONS

“i will” - mitski / “as if it’s your last” - blackpink / “salute” - little mix / “be the one” - dua lipa / “no excuses” - meghan trainor / “drunk dialing…lodt” - summer walker / “the good side” - troye sivan / “first love / late spring” - mitski / “love me like you” - little mix / “dear future husband” - meghan trainor / “physical” - dua lipa / “playing games” - summer walker / “love to hate me” - blackpink / “sweet leaf” - black sabbath / “me too” - meghan trainor / “drunk walk home” - mitski / “levitating” - dua lipa feat. dababy / “i’ll kill you” - summer walker (feat. jhené aiko) / “move” - little mix / “lost boy” - jaden / “planet caravan” - black sabbath / "reflection" - christina aguilera / “a pearl” - mitski / “hopeless romantic” - meghan trainor / “girls need love” - summer walker / “new rules” - dua lipa / “i” - jaden / “secret love song” - little mix (feat. jason derulo) / “wild” - troye sivan / “fluff” - black sabbath / “better when i’m dancin’” - meghan trainor / “happy” - mitski / “thinking ’bout you” - dua lipa / "hurt" - christina aguilera

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"ridin' solo" - jason derulo / "fancy" - iggy azalea (feat. charli xcx) / "royals" - lorde / "money" - pink floyd / "material girl" - madonna / "rich girl" - hall & oates / "billionaire" - travie mccoy (feat. bruno mars) / "gold digger" - kanye west (feat. jamie foxx) / "luxurious" - gwen stefani / "uptown funk" - mark ronson (feat. bruno mars)

taurus moon playlist (honorable mention : moon - venus aspects)

BY TAURUS VENUS

“and i love her” - the beatles / “breathin” - ariana grande / “change of heart” - cyndi lauper / “moonlight” - exo-k / “sativa” - jhené aiko (feat. swae lee) / "a&w" - lana del ray / “let it be” - the beatles / "purple rain" - prince / "panorama" - iz*one / “god is a woman” - ariana grande / “what is love” - exo-k / “love” - lana del rey / “when you were mine” - cyndi lauper / “comfort inn ending (freestyle)” - jhené aiko / “in my life” - the beatles / “love me harder” - ariana grande (feat. the weeknd) / “xoxo” - exo-k / “ride” - lana del rey / “i drove all night” - cyndi lauper / "l.a.love (la la)" - fergie (feat. yg) / "thats what i want" - lil nas x / "let's go crazy" - prince / “here, there and everywhere” - the beatles / “my turn to cry” - exo-k / “needy” - ariana grande / “true colors” - cyndi lauper / “blue jeans” - lana del rey / "clumsy" - fergie / "rodeo" - lil nas x (feat. cardi b) / “love me right” - exo-k / “positions” - ariana grande / “time after time” - cyndi lauper / "glamorous" - fergie (feat. ludacris) / “national anthem” - lana del rey / “i want to hold your hand” - the beatles / cream - prince / holiday - lil nas x / “money changes everything” - cyndi lauper / “born to die” - lana del rey / "big girls don't cry (personal)" - fergie /

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

"from the dining table" - harry styles / "make you feel my love" - adele / “sweetest thing” - lauryn hill / “so into you” - tamia / “love on top” - beyoncé / “crush” - yuna (feat. usher) / "liability" - lorde / "1965" - zella day / "lover" - taylor swift /

BY 2ND HOUSE VENUSES

“no surprises” - radiohead / "otherside" - red hot chili peppers / “good old days” - macklemore (feat. kesha) / “neon lights” - demi lovato / “don’t know what to do” - blackpink / “all i need”- radiohead / "dani california" - red hot chili peppers / “hymn” - kesha / “blessings” - big sean (feat. drake, kanye west) / “cool for the summer” - demi lovato / “reckoner” - radiohead / "by the way" - red hot chili peppers / “forever young” - blackpink / “your song” - elton john / “woman” - kesha (feat. the dap-kings horns) / “savage mode” - 21 savage & metro boomin / “i don’t fuck with you” - big sean (feat. e-40) / “videotape” - radiohead / "californication" - red hot chili peppers / “don’t go breaking my heart” - elton john & kiki dee / “you never know” - blackpink / “bank account” - 21 savage / “boots” - kesha / “lotus flower” - radiohead / “skyscraper” - demi lovato / my last - big sean / “crazy over you” - blackpink / “out for the night” - 21 savage / “someone saved my life tonight” - elton john / “guap” - big sean / “sorry not sorry” - demi lovato / “whistle” - blackpink / “monster” - 21 savage & metro boomin / “single again” - big sean

MORE SONGS (JUST VIBES)

“thinking out loud” - ed sheeran / “earned it” - the weeknd / “stay with me” - sam smith / “let’s stay together” - al green / “you are the best thing” - ray lamontagne / “lovely day” - bill withers / “i will always love you” - whitney houston

taurus venus playlist

OTHER TAURUS PLAYLIST

taurus sun playlist (honorable mention : sun in 2nd house, sun - venus aspects)

taurus rising playlist (honorable mention : venus in 1st house, venus - asc aspects , venus dominants)

main masterlist

#taurus moon #taurus venus #moon in 2nd house #venus in 2nd house #my playlist #spotify playlist #playlist #astro notes #astrology #astro tumblr #astro community #astro observations #astro placements #astroblr #astrology notes #astrology observations #taurus #taurus rising #taurus sun

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denimbex1986 · 4 months

Text

'When Cillian Murphy took to the podium during Sunday night’s Golden Globes, his nose smudged in his wife’s lipstick, it was as if a door had opened on this Hollywood Neverland and an ambassador for the real world had stepped through.

Accepting the Best Actor in a Drama award for Oppenheimer, Murphy wasn’t so much un-starry as stonkingly everyday. Here was a normal person who had somehow beamed into peak Tinseltown and, if pleased, was also clearly a bit perplexed by it all.

The Oppenheimer win has made Murphy a frontrunner for the Oscars. In all likelihood, he will be up against a creepy Barry Keoghan in Saltburn, an overblown Bradley Cooper in Maestro, and a fervent Leonard DiCaprio in Killers of the Flower Moon. With the arguable exception of the grandstanding Cooper, all would be worthy winners. And yet, underdogs everywhere will be cheering for Murphy. He’s spent the past 20 years negotiating Hollywood on his own terms and has rejected Tinseltown’s showiness in favour of staying grounded and playing the long game.

Murphy always wanted to be an actor rather than a star. Such a choice could easily have condemned him to a lifetime of supporting roles. Or a hiatus in TV, to which he seemed exiled when he settled in for a long run as Tommy Shelby in Birmingham noir Peaky Blinders.

But his decision to turn away from flashy parts has proved inspired. He is that rarest of things: an experienced A-list actor who comes to the Oscars without baggage. Unlike DiCaprio, he hasn’t had to overcome a past life as a teen pin-up. Nor does he have to justify a lucrative stint in comic book films, as Cooper has with his time as Rocket Racoon in Guardians of the Galaxy.

Above all, Murphy goes into Oscar season as an antidote to the “look at me!” culture of the social media era. In an age when fame is regarded as the ultimate commodity – more important than awards or critical acclaim – Murphy would rather let his work speak for itself. He lives humbly in suburban Dublin with his wife and two children – and his great passion outside of acting is music, as demonstrated by his semi-regular presenting slot on BBC 6 Music.

That’s lifetimes removed from Hollywood, with its self-mythologising and turbo-charged fakeness. It is also of a piece with his career since he broke through playing a survivor of the zombie apocalypse in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later. Ever since, he has chosen his jobs thoughtfully. In so doing, he has assembled a body of work of which he can be proud.

He hasn’t been above popcorn. He was a memorable villain in Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, where he played the Scarecrow as a trippy nightmare. But even when shooting for the box office, Murphy has been studiedly un-starry. Careful to keep his ego in check, he’s often happy in an ensemble – hugging the background in A Quiet Place II and settling for an extended cameo in Nolan’s Dunkirk, where he was content to let Harry Styles and Tom Hardy hog the spotlight.

Hog it they did – yet it was Murphy who proved to be in it for the long road. Because he could go into Oppenheimer without a Hollywood aura, he disappeared into the role. If hardly obscure, he nonetheless assimilated fully into the part. Throughout that film, you were aware of its stars. Florence Pugh and Emily Blunt doing their best with under-written female characters. Robert Downey Jr trying to pretend he hadn’t spent a decade as Iron Man.

Murphy, by contrast, split the acting atom. He vanished into Oppenheimer with a performance that exuded humility and sincerity. Bookies have now installed him as a favourite for the Best Actor Oscar. If he wins, it would be a victory for knowing who you are and what you stand for and believing good work has value beyond short-term acclaim. Above all, his success shows that it is possible to stay grounded while scaling Hollywood’s giddiest heights.'

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justmystyles · 10 months

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Ok so I was thinking Harry is very private and only seen with skinny girls but then he got a new bandmember but she is plus size and wears glasses so even tho they act cute and couply ? On stage fans just think they are really good friends but one night Harry slips up bc bandmember got hurt by flying objects and he rushes over to her giving her hugs and pecks asking over and over if she is ok ? And well he might’ve sorta forgot where they where but then didn’t care bc his baby girl got hurt hope that makes sense and hope you wanna write it

Line of Fire

check out my other works!

pairing: Harry Styles x band member plus size reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: you and harry have been keeping your relationship off the radar, but his concern for you overwhelms his need for privacy.

warnings: physical injury, not sure if that is one, but better safe than sorry.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask @fanficismydrug! i loved this idea so much, and it was so exciting to bring it to life. i hope it's what you were hoping for!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You tapped gently on Harry’s dressing room door, almost immediately hearing him call for you to enter. As you stepped over the threshold, you watched his eyes peer up from the book he was reading, his pensive expression quickly turned to a smile as he folded over his page, putting the book down on the table behind him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” You apologize as you enter the room.

“Don’t be silly, you’re never a bother.” He outstretched his arms. “Get over here, angel.”

You happily sauntered into his embrace, kissing him softly as he pulled you into his lap. “Hi,” you smile against his lips.

You were so excited when you were hired to play trumpet in Harry’s Love on Tour band. It felt like the ultimate validation after spending so many years as a tormented band geek. You were in your element, playing music with people who loved it just as much as you did. Especially Harry.

You hadn’t expected you’d spend much time with Harry, he was the superstar, you were just in the background. But you quickly realized that was the farthest thing from the truth. The two of you clicked immediately, falling into this comfortable flirty friendship. You two had become inseparable, everyone on the tour knew that if they couldn’t find one of you, your best bet was to look for the other. Even the fans had noticed your back and forth on stage, and you were quickly labeled as Harry’s bestie.

You had been ‘friend-zoned’ so many times in your life that you were used to palling around with the guys you liked. It didn’t stop you from falling for Harry though. You knew he was flirty by nature, so you always tried not to read too far into his actions. He obviously didn’t see you the way you saw him. You’d seen the kinds of girls Harry had been photographed with, you’d heard all the rumors about his lovelife. None of those girls looked anything like you, they were these gorgeous supermodels with tiny waists. You would never be that, so you just settled for being his friend.

But then, there was a shift. Harry’s touches started to linger a little longer, when you would hang out and watch movies, you noticed he started to sit closer and closer. And then, one day everything changed. You had just finished sound check, and Harry asked you to come back to his dressing room with him. And he took that opportunity to confess his feelings for you. You had been together ever since.

“You’ve been busy today, I’ve hardly seen you.” Harry pouted, you giggled before biting his bottom lip gently.

“I know baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’m going to make it up to you.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a lingering kiss.

“Mmm, you always do.” He sighs, squeezing your hips gently.

“Oh, I meant to ask you. How’d your date go the other night?” He gives you a confused look. You chuckle as you pull out your phone, tapping a few times before pulling up a deuxmoi post that was submitted of Harry, the caption saying he was out on a date with a mystery blonde.

Harry’s eyes soften, and he lifts his hand to your cheek, stroking it gently. “Angel, you know that’s nothing right? It was a business dinner.”

“I know, I’m just joking around.” He smiled widely at your words and pulled you in so that your head was resting against his chest.

Harry liked to keep his private life to himself. He felt that he gave so much to everyone all the time, that he wanted to keep some things just for him. Your relationship was one of those things. You were fine with that, you didn’t need to parade your relationship around to the world to know it was real.

Later that night, you were onstage playing your heart out. You and Harry had been playing off each other all night, like you usually would. He would also shoot an occasional wink, or sly smirk in your direction every now and then.

The crowd had been particularly rowdy all night, but as the opening notes to Watermelon Sugar began, the screaming crescendoed and people began truly losing their minds. Harry and the band had gotten used to things being thrown onstage, you had gotten pretty good at dodging the assorted items. Until you weren’t.

You were so caught up with the energy in the room, watching Harry drink it all in and give it right back to them, that you didn’t see the watch soaring in the air. But you definitely felt it when it hit you in the side of the head, knocking you to the ground.

Harry heard the crowd collectively gasp when you went down. He looked around, his brow furrowed in confusion, looking for the scene that caused such a reaction. He turned behind him and saw you on the ground, wincing in pain and holding your head.

He ran full speed toward you, dropping to his knees in front of you. He tossed his microphone on the riser beside you before collecting you in his arms.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked frantically, stroking your hair. He felt you nod against his chest, but it wasn’t good enough. “Talk to me angel, I need you to say it.”

You pulled back, tears streaming down your face, you looked up at Harry with a sniffle. “I… I’m.. it’s okay. You n–need to finish.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he takes your face in his hands, leaning in to kiss your tear stained cheeks before turning you to inspect the spot where you were hit. It was already starting to bruise, and there was some blood dripping down. He looked up at Pauli signaling for him to toss him a towel. He pressed it to your head gently as he tried to calm you down.

“You’re alright baby, I’m right here. I’m so sorry angel, I love you so much.” The words flew from his mouth rapidly, seemingly unaware that his nearby microphone was picking up on all of it.

Once you composed yourself, you reached beside you, grabbing your glasses that had fallen off when you hit the ground, and placing them back on your face. “Sorry Harry, you didn’t have to stop everything for me.”

“Of course I did,” he assured you. “You’re my girl, you come before anything, always.”

A wave of murmurs washed through the crowd at Harry’s words. Tens of thousands of people were all watching with rapt attention as he cared for you so tenderly, and professed his love for you. Their confusion and curiosity quickly turned into a chorus of ‘awwws’ when they watched Harry press his lips against yours.

The sound brought you both back into the moment, suddenly realizing that you were still onstage, and all eyes were on the two of you. Your face turned bright red, you quickly brought your hands up to cover it. Harry chuckled, pulling you close.

“I guess you’re about to get your deuxmoi debut, angel.” He joked.

“And tiktok, and twitter, and everything else.” You chuckle in response.

Harry pulled back so that he could look you in the eyes. “C’mon, let me walk you off and get you comfy, then I’ll come back and finish up here.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, I want to finish the show. I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his tone thick with worry.

You nod and stand up, picking up your trumpet to show him you were fine. He shrugged, giving in to you. He knows how stubborn you are, it would be easier just to finish the show. He gets up as well, picking up his microphone with one hand, and taking your hand with the other, leading you to center stage.

“She’s okay!” He announced into the microphone, lifting your arm up in the air.

The crowd erupted, and you curtseyed shyly. You looked over to Harry, who was already looking at you, you could see the adoration in his eyes as he lifted your joined hands to his lips.

“Alright,” Harry returns his attention to the crowd. “Shall we try that one again?” The crowd cheered and Harry let go of your hand. When you turned to return to your spot onstage you jumped suddenly when you felt Harry’s hand playfully tap your backside. You shot him a wink over your shoulder and he smiled in response.

You waved off your fellow band members as they all asked if you were alright, and if you were sure you wanted to do this. You lifted your horn to your mouth, showing everyone that you were fine and ready to move on. The song began, and the rest of the show went off without a hitch, Harry continuing to look back at you, giving you questioning thumbs ups to ensure you were feeling alright, you returned them all with a wink.

You were alright, you were great even. You knew you didn’t need the validation or acknowledgement of his fans for your relationship to work, but it felt really nice to know you had it anyway.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x band member #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot

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unabashednightmarepizza · 10 months

Note

Hiii could you make a dating Talbott Winger headcannons I love him so much and I really think he’d be like the I hate everyone but you trope

A/N: I'm sorry that it took such a long time for me to write but I was battling with stress and life lately, and now that I'm fine, I started to have so many ideas but I need to finish request and write the chapters that had been waiting for ages in my documents lol.

And thank you everyone, who waited patiently!

P.S: I don't remember whne this ask was sent so I'm gonna put this on my "Summer Celebration" post!

Requests are OPEN!

𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝑛𝑐𝑙𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑠...

We all know Talbott is a silent boy, he prefers to stay away from trouble unlike a certain person that has his interest, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't have an adventurous side of him.

Yet, I still believe that he likes to have some kind of... control? When doing something? Like, yeah, he takes risks.

Just not extreme risks

Or, if you were to introduce him to some muggle vehicles, I think he would love to ride a bike with you and watch as your laugh would be carried to hus ears as the sight of you all happy and glowing would consume him.

Yeah, our boi definetly has a way with words.

Except the point that he made you swear to never talk about the first time he tried it as you showed how to bike, and he fell hard while being busy admiring you in return.

You, of course, accepted it with a giggle but not without crossing your finger because Bill demanded he had to know everything about your date.

He also swoons whenever you beat someone's ass in dueling. There were many times you rocked people's shits, especially Merula's since she always demanded one only to loose, to the point that no one actually stood a chance against you and refused to train.

Proud boyfriend Talbott and proud mama Bill moment 🥺😭

Like really, there isn't something you would do/make that he wouldn't be proud of and supportive

Crochet? Amazing, could you make a hat or a swan plushie? Draw? Excellent! Maybe you could teach me a few things, dove? You want to deceive the first years by playing an innocent game? Well, it's not like him... But he would be down with it anyways, especially after the ultimate "puppy eyes" weapon.

For some reasons, I see his whole vibe with you as Harry Style's "Golden" song 😭😭🥰🥰

It's literally the song that phrases your relationship!

"I know you were way too bright for me/ I'm hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky..."

" Don't wanna let you know I don't wanna be alone/ But I can feel it take a hold, I can feel it take a hold..."

"I can feel you take control, I can feel you take control/ Of who I am, and all I've ever known lovin' you's the antidote..."

Since he didn't have his parents from a young age, and that they were killed right in front of him, Talbott had difficulties with associating himself with people around him.

That doesn't mean he hated them, or didn't want to talk. He did, he really did... He just didn't know how, and was scared that they would be gone too.

Especially early in your "friendship" that he often denied, but secretly liked the taste of the word on his tongue, he pushed and pushed people away, especially you... until only he was left.

But hey, it was a good thing that you were a persistent little shit because not only you were able to befriend him and show the true colors of life, show him that many people cared about him, you also took his heart and soul for yourself... like, for good.

Yeah, Talbott is definetly one of those rare guys who would stay loyal to his partner until the day he died and then even more.

If there was one thing you never expected from him by how he seemed so reserved, it was the fact that he was clingy when alone. Like, eagle boy would do anything to cuddle, hold hands with you, kiss and hug and do anything you ask for.

His hand holding is much more frequent than other forms of PDA. Talbott isn't very keen on them, since he hates attention, but hand holding under the table disecretly happens a lot.

He sits with you during breakfast and dinner, evennif you were in a different house, and your friends tease you for it affectionately.

He especially hold your hand thightly when he feels overwhelmed, or sad because of remembering his mother... to feel grounded, because he often feels like he lives in auto mode where he doesn't actually know what he is doing and doesn't have control.

That's when you step in.

When that happens, and Talbott usually tries to make it all go away through drowning himself in his studies, you would often look for him in thr library. But since he didn't want you to disturb your own peace just to find him, and he also didn't want to be found in a fragile state, he would go for less predictable areas.

He knew it saddened you whenever he refused to talk about his problems, he was aware and it broke his heart too... But he was scared.

You were the best thing that happened to him, even when he thought and still thinks he wasn't worth being loved, even when he thought he wouldn't find any ounce of happiness... Because why would he? He didn't have anyone left from his family at such a young age, his other relatives didn't care much and he was bad at socialising.

He fought and fought, but for what?

But then you came, stubbornly wanting to be his friend... Alongside the huge friend group you brought, and now he had a lot to loose but also a lot he gained.

He didn't understand why someone like you, the hero of Hogwarts, would find anything in him to activelly seek out to be friends with him...

But whatever it was, he was glad. Glad for your stubborn heart, glad because thanks to you, he found a new family.

You healed his aching heart with your sweet smiles, reassuring words and selflessness. Slowly but surely, you settled deep in his heart and after time, he realized he loved you... Immensely.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment obviously, but maybe... he always loved you, while watching from afar... While you won Quidditch, solved the mysteries about the Vaults, saved the school one many times... Or how you achieved more than average witch in your age, or how you risked your whole school life just to help him find the necklace of his mother.

Perhaps he realized right then and there that yes, he was in love with you and yes, he was already too deep to get out of that hole that was love.

And he didn't want to, for he was used to darkness when you came with the light of your eyes and heart, and saved him.

He could never be that boy he once was, and he didn't want to. Because now, he had you and a future to hold on to.

You both were the ones who confessed first, under the night sky as you both blushed at the cliche sight but you were content, happy to call this amazing, kind, thoughful and strong boy your lover.

Like I said before, there are a lot of things he wants to do with you: Travel together, have late night dinner dates, go to a beach, have a little cabin at the outskirts of Scotland...

But above all... There is one thing he wants to do with you the most one thing that often has him blushing and unable to sleep.

Grow old with you.

NOW TO THE FUN PART, ENOUGH DEPRESSING

Whenever you try to find him, out of class and studying sessions you both have, he is in the Owlery and all the owl LOVES him! Like really, whenever you two hang out in the school grounds, a flock of them comes and finds him and perches on both of your shoulders happily while picking on your hairs or hiding behind them in a way of playing with you.

He loves jewelries, mostly necklaces and bracelets, so whenever you buy something for yourself, he demands one too.

And he also loves matching with you too, so any necklaces, he's matching with you. It's one of the subtle ways of telling everyone that you/he was taken.

All the teachers and your friends knew you two would be end game, from how in love you both seemed and how Talbott started to smile genuinely after such a long time.

But what sealed it for you both was when he asked you to come to the Owlery, that he had an important thing to say and hive to you.

Imagine your surprise when he looked at you so softly and offered the necklace that had his mother's swan feather, accompanied with the pendants of his initials.

"This necklace used to be the sign of all the things I lost, a reminder of death... But I know my mum would have wanted you to have it, the girl who means so much to me, who I imagine my life to be spent with... I want this to be the sign of our love and my loyalty to you, for you to carry on your neck and hopefully never take it out... If you will have it and me..."

Like I said, he is a one-woman kind of boy and when you start a relationship and things started to get serious and deep, Talbott wouldn't shy away from hinting at marriage and a life together.

Because if this didn't show you the depth of his love, I don't know what would.

Another cute gesture he does with you, especially in like 6th or 7th year, is to wrap his arms around you from behind and put his chin on top of your head after laying a tender kiss there. ( why do boys get so much taller in like a few months when I'm stuck at the same height for the rest of my life 😭)

You two often visit and stay until late in the Owlery. That place had become some kind of a safe space for you both, where you can be with each other in silent, read books or simply feed the owls happily.

OMG HIS FAVOURITE WAY OF SPENDING TIME WITH YOU IS READING ❤️😍

You liked reading books by yourself, but when your boyfriend had a raspy voice and was food at imitations of the characters, you didn't have to do anything except laying back on his chest as you buried yourself in his smell as he read to you, thightenung his hold on your frame.

But just as you loved being read to, he actually likes it as well. He is just bad at showing and telling that. But whenever you see him looking at a book, then at you with a pout, you know what he wants.

And who were you to deny him of that when he looked so cute?

Madam Pince, even though she resented you for pranking her and was close to banning you from the library, was now looking at you and your boyfriend softly because one, you finally weren't there to break the rules but rather trully reading and two, you also helped her clean the library with Talbott too.

But none of you needed to know.

Now that I mentioned her, all the teachers have had bets about your love life. Like when one of you will confess, when you will have a kiss, when you will have a date etc.

And quite creepily, Minerva and Flitwick almost all the time knows when and where and wins quite a few galleons.

Snape couldn't care less, because he hated your guts... Or mayyybee he was slightly interested since you gifted him a cake and offered good mornings every day even though he would snap and he started to not hate you but just dislike.

Sprout was just happy to see her two favourite students together, alongside with Minerva, and offered her blessing with an enchanted flower that would never wilt.

But Dumbledore? Oh, he always knew from the start and didn't bother with such childish act... but he had bets going on with others in the ministry soo~ (Don't get me wrong, I still hate him.)

You know when Hermione said that girls could get in boys' dormitory but they couldn't enter girls'?

Yeah, there were many times you did that, at the beginning for cuddles... And later in your last year, for different things *wink wink*

Ehem, another act he loves doing are ( and I need to say, if a man did that to me, I would simply melt) taking your hand in his and putting it on his chest, where his heart is and kissing your forehead and lingering his lips there for a few seconds more.

Just imagine the feels and how hard your heart would beat I-

FLOWERS! YOU BOTH GIVE EACH OTHER FLOWERS ALL THE TIME!

You giving him flowers actually has a funny story because you thought he wouldn't like them, especially early in your relationship

But you couldn't help but think that daisies would look good on his dark, long hair

So you hastily went to Hogsmeade, came back in a hurry and sent a letter to him through your owl to meet you in the Owlery

It was definetly worth seeing the dark red tint on his skin when tou explained why you wanted to give him them

"I wanted to show you that I care and love you a lot, and flowers are a great way to show it, especially since I enchanted them!.. And by your reaction, I'll do that more in the future!"

And yes, you did so... Even after being married for such a long time, eventually having kid/s and in your 60-70

And he never stopped blushing and returning the gesture just as sweetly, always adding a little blessing and thanks to Merlin for bringing you into his life

This headcanons are already taking so long so I'll stop here before it gets out of control lol

And I'll go and continue crying at the corner because I don't have a Talbott in my life 🥺

#talbott winger #hogwarts mystery talbott #talbott x jacob's sibling #talbott x mc #hphm talbott #talbott x reader #talbott winger x reader #talbott winger x mc #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #SUMMER CELEBRATION🏖

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