#please im a connor kick
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Hii babe!! Omg I’ve been obsessed with your pajama pants book on wattpad for years I can’t believe I found your tumblr, ur my favourite Connor writer.
Anyway I figured I’d send an ask!! Maybe something with a daughter of Aphrodite reader? Could you do protective connor plss, I don’t rly mind the scenario whether it’s creepy guy or like in a battle or whatever.
Thanks so much!! 🩷🩷
HEYYY HII OMG thank u blushes kicks feet!!!
the damsel in distress trope is so outdated and children of aphrodite def have sparkly pink bejeweled weapons so this being set on the battlefield is crossed out of the list. also i dont like the ending but idk ??
edit: im sorry if this didnt meet your expectations of protective connor idk i feel like it's off or boring so feel free to ask for a redo or another one w this situation 😭😭😭😭 not sure if i interpreted ur req right but lmk if i did or if u have anything to say
wc: 1.7k words
contains: erm the general creep u meet while minding ur own business idfk that's literally it
"G'morning, beautiful." Connor smiles down at you as you wake up from your rest. How many hours was that? Three? Four? A few hours as your beauty rest was better than none, so you let that worry go and sucked it up.
"Morning, Connor," you replied, your voice as sweet and smooth as ever. Your resting place today was hidden between two dumpsters behind a convenience store. At first, the idea revolted all three of you on the quest, but the events that followed that night gave you no choice, and the smell would mask your scent from any monsters. Fortunately, you had your perfume balm on you, enchanted to last for days, so smearing the stuff under your noses was a big help to battle the stench of the dumpsters.
You laid a hand on your boyfriend's shoulder. "Feeling better?" After getting into a car crash last night, his body was probably sore. He pulled a muscle in his shoulder, too. His brother Travis was knocked unconscious, so after hauling him through streets, you two had no choice but to seek shelter somewhere hidden. You only found out, when the sun rose, that you were stationed behind a convenience store. Great. Those things were like playgrounds to the sons of Hermes.
Connor stood up and stretched, testing his shoulder. "Yes! Good as new. Man, I wish mortal stores had stuff flavored with something that tastes like ambrosia."
You gazed up at him, pleased with the state he was in now. "Glad to hear," you smiled.
"Wait, they do. I love salt and vinegar chips. Oh, man, I hope Travis finds some."
You wrinkled your nose, but at the mention of food, your stomach growled. Aside from doing your best to nurse the boys back to a decent state last night, you also took first watch. That, and exhausting all your fighting skills, left you hungry.
You rummaged in your bag for a bottle of water to start your day as Connor picked up his. There you found your plastic bag of half-finished ambrosia, a flask of nectar, your first aid kit, your last change of clean clothes, your hair clip that transformed into your celestial bronze crossbow with a beaded charm around the handle, a magic blow-drier for emergencies, and—there it was.
"Travis is inside. Let's go?" Connor held out a hand and helped you up from the ground, and the two of you walked into the convenience store. You caught a glimpse of Travis, but he didn't catch sight of you back. So instead you put your water back into your bag and headed for the bathroom.
There wasn't much work to do. Just a bit of dusting off your pants and a quick wash of your face and hands to feel clean. As always, you looked perfectly put together, roughed up but in a movie star way, thanks to being a daughter of Aphrodite. It was like those scratches and stray hairs framing your face were strategically placed by a personal makeup artist.
Zipping up your jacket in a way that complimented your figure and the rest of your outfit, you nudged the bathroom door closed with your foot on the way out. Neither of the boys were inside anymore. While you scanned the aisles for them, you felt a pair of eyes on you and turned towards the counter to see a toothy man wearing a puffer vest standing in line. "You lost, sweetheart?"
You didn't like how he looked you up and down. How you felt like you were being examined under his stare. You picked it up immediately, and it made your fists tighten. You simply shook your head, then made for the exit.
Travis and Connor were munching away at breakfast sandwiches and bagels. They handed you a sandwich of your choice and a bottle of yogurt drink and you ate it without complaint, the previous occurence quickly disappearing from your mind.
"Thanks," You mumbled, and then peeked into Travis's paper bag. It had even more sandwiches and snacks inside. Quickly, he wrapped them all up and stuffed them in his bag. "Snagged some extras on my way out." He grinned, satisfied with his work.
"Still headed for the next city hall, right?" He asked.
"Mhm." You took a folded up map out of your back pocket and opened it up. "There's a bus stop right there." You nodded in the general direction of the shed, tracing a manicured finger along the map.
You had to be honest, you were only doing that to look cool. Your dyslexia slowed you down in trying to look for your current location.
You followed Travis and Connor to the waiting shed, passing the map to the former. "Let me do that, love," Connor said as you sat down and began to open your yogurt drink. He took his seat beside you and opened your drink for you, passing it back along with a kiss. The gesture made your stomach flutter. No matter how many people would throw themselves at you and try to get your attention, nothing would ever beat the way Connor made you feel with his princess treatment.
However, your mood immediately soured when the guy from inside the convenience store appeared, sitting beside you and doing a little stretch. When he was done, he turned to you and smiled.
"You're a pretty one, you know that?"
The man's voice was gravelly and he sounded like he needed a drink. You kept your eyes on whatever you could stare at on the other side of the street. "Thank you," You replied.
"You here alone?"
"No," You replied, holding back the urge to grit your teeth. You started to tap your designer boots on the concrete, impatiently awaiting the bus.
"Hm. A doll like you shouldn't be here all by yourself."
You didn't reply. Internally, you gagged and made a face and cussed him out for having the audacity.
Connor tensed up beside you; you could feel it. You huffed and checked your nails, bored. Time seemed to go exceptionally slow while you were in this situation.
When you finally forced your head to turn to see why Connor was so pissed, you saw the guy literally ogling you, a smile on his face with dark eyes that seemed to bore into every bit of you they could find.
It was disgusting. You felt disgusting. Your skin crawled.
You crossed your arms over your torso and scowled, trying to seem as unappealing as possible. Desperate times call for desperate measures, or whatever the saying was. You put a hand on Connor's knee to reassure him that you could handle it, and switched on your meanest girl voice.
"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" You shot the guy your meanest girl glare. It worked, for a second, because the smile melted off his face.
Travis came along, pulling out a pouch where he kept fake ID's and documents in case you needed them. He settled beside Connor, who had draped an arm across your shoulders, and took off his sweater.
The man glanced up at him as he passed by, relentless with his questions. "Is that your boyfriend?"
"No, this is." You moved aside to show Connor. You didn't dare break eye contact with the man, you wanted to show that you weren't afraid.
The man's frown grew deeper. "Well!" He chuckled. "Lucky guy."
Connor cleared his throat beside you. You squeezed his knee, and as curious as you were to see how he looked (because he was hot when he was pissed) you flashed the creep your fakest smile, words laced with poison.
"Your mom never told you not to talk to strangers? It's dangerous, you know." He started to force a laugh, but you cut him off, continuing. "Stop talking, because I don't have any time to waste on you, dickhead."
There was a beat of silence as he processed your words. You cracked a smile and turned back to face the opposite side of the road, satisfied with yourself. But then you heard the rustle of that stupid puffer vest.
"Hey, now, sweetheart, don't be hard. You know, if you're here on vacation, I can tell you a few good places to visit, let me tell you—"
You had just settled your eyes back on your multiple bangles and bracelets when you heard a loud smack from where the man was sitting. Connor stood between you and him and your lips parted in surprise with how quick he was. His hand was raised and the man was clutching his own, face red and showing an expression of pain. You couldn't see Connor's face, since he had his back turned to you, but you could feel how tense the hand that was on your shoulder was.
The bus finally pulled over in front of you. Travis nudged you and Connor took your hand with a stiff one. "C'mon, Y/N, let's go," he said. You eagerly stood up, keeping his hand in yours, but he didn't move. Instead, he waited for the creep to board and when he did so, he looked over his shoulder to steal one last glance at you.
You raised up your middle finger at him, but to your surprise, Connor even gave him a shove further down the aisle as the two of you followed.
Connor and Travis made sure he was seated far, far back in the bus before settling into seats with you. Connor gave you the window seat and the three of you got comfortable, though Connor was still muttering curses under his breath. You sent Travis a thumbs up gesture when he looked at the two of you.
Connor didn't relax even after the bus set off, but he did kick his bag under the seat and take your hand back in his. He planted a kiss on your temple, then your hand. "You alright?"
You nodded. "Nothing I can't handle," You assured him. "Horrible morning, but it's fine."
"Bastard was about to touch you," He muttered, lips moving against the back of your hand. "No one touches my girl if she doesn't like it."
"Mhm." You gave his hand a squeeze back, just as you always do to let him know it's okay.
#guys i don't like the ending#— suguwuu's posts#connor stoll#pjo#connor stoll x reader#pjo x reader#pjo oneshots
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KIAAA MY FAVE WRITER EVER!! I HOPE YOURE DOING WELL AND THAT YOURE NOT OVERWORKING YOURSELF ❤️
im feeling pretty angsty, so could you please make headcanons for Altaïr, Connor, Arno, Jacob, Edward, and Ezio about them having a nightmare where the reader dies? you seriously never fail to impress me so i came to you!! 💓💓
notes: AHHHHH it makes me so happy to know that I'm your favourite writer!! I'm doing alright at the moment, I hope you are too <3 I hope this post will continue to impress you hehe
characters: Altaïr, Ezio, Edward, Connor, Arno, Jacob
☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM
a l t a ï r :
It was a kick to your leg that woke you up and when you turned over to look at the culprit, you found your lover's face scrunched up and his body trembling.
You set your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him, calling out his name to try and wake him. He woke with a start and sat upright straight away, body turning as he looked at you, hands landing on your shoulders and then cupping your face.
He laid back down with you so that he could pull you into his arms and you made no protest, returning his embrace. After a while, you realised that he was still shaking and you could feel the wetness of his tears upon your head where he had buried his face. You tried to pull back a little, to wipe his tears away, but he stopped you, saying "Just let me hold you for a while, please." and not wanting you to see him cry. You stayed in his arms until he calmed enough to fall back asleep.
e z i o :
You were stirred awake by Ezio calling your name and turned around to find him shaking, hands gripping the sheets.
You sat up, lit the candle on your nightstand and began gently brushing the hair away from his face in a soothing manner, not wanting to startle him when he was so clearly having a nightmare. You took his hand with your other one and squeezed it gently, continuing to caress his hair until he woke up and looked straight at you.
He's holding your hand even tighter as he quickly tells you all about what happened, about how terrified he was of losing you too. You leaned down to kiss him softly, returning to lay down beside him, curled up into his side and you assured him that you were perfectly safe, that he would always be able to protect you and that you would be with him for a long, long time.
e d w a r d :
Another one where you're likely kicked awake or a hand goes flying out and lands against your back. When you woke to find Edward having a nightmare, you began calling out his name and asking him to wake up, hoping that perhaps some part of him could hear you and hearing that he was having a nightmare would be enough to wake him.
It seemed to work and his breathing was heavy as he woke up, sitting upright and looking all around the place, as if for danger, before turning to you and pulling you into his lap, cradling you to his chest.
He held you close and began to tell you all about his nightmare where he lost you to some crew that had boarded the Jackdaw. His breathing was ragged and you could tell that he was doing his best to not cry at that false memory of holding your corpse, the angry red gash across your throat. You wrapped your arms around his neck and peppered kisses all across his face as you assured him that you're perfectly safe and suggested that the two of you go back to sleep as he held you.
c o n n o r :
He doesn't really move or call out so you were suddenly very thankful that you were a light sleeper when one of his groans woke you up. You propped yourself up on your elbow and lightly tapped his chest, seeing how his face was scrunched up. You called out his name and he finally woke up.
He lets out a big sigh of relief when he sees you hovering over him, alive and well with the moonlight falling on you from through the window. He reaches up to cup your face and pulls you downwards gently to kiss your forehead and then your mouth.
You ask him about the nightmare and he tells you all about the ambush of redcoats, of the bayonet through your middle, of how you were barely clinging to life when the fight was over and how it all felt so real. You assure him that it was all just a nightmare and coax him to lay back down with you, Connor insisting on you turning over so that he can hold you close while he spoons you.
a r n o :
You woke to the sound of crying and in the dying light from the fireplace, you could see the tears on Arno's cheeks as he wept in his sleep. You brushed them away from his face and began calling out to him to wake up, gently shaking his shoulder.
He woke up with a gasp and you quickly told him that he was having a nightmare. He sat up and wiped more of the tears from his face and you asked him what it was about.
You leaned your head on his shoulder as he told you all about coming home one day to find you dead in the memento gallery, murdered. You assure him that everything's alright now though and stand up to put on a robe as you suggest a quick escapade to the kitchen to see what pastries you can help yourselves to as you grab a robe for Arno as well, the two of you making your way downstairs, his nightmare soon forgotten.
j a c o b :
I feel like he would be the worst before he wakes: the blankets are on the floor, there are limbs everywhere, he's calling out and flaying about, trying to fight while still asleep, tears in his eyes. You'll have to call out to him for him to wake up or put yourself at risk of being hit while he's still having the nightmare, it should work to wake him up if you're loud enough.
When he wakes up, he has to take a moment to take in his surroundings, where he is, assure that he's not wherever he was in the nightmare and that he never really was in the first place. His eyes land on you and that's when he finally seems to calm down, excusing himself as he goes over to the pitcher to pour himself a glass of water. You don't fail to notice how he smudges away his tears while his back is still facing you.
When he comes to sit down on the edge of the bed beside you, you make your way into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing the corner of his mouth and asking him what the nightmare was about. Not wanting to relive it, he keeps the details vague and says he watched you die and was fighting to get to you. You assure him that none of it was real and he was perfectly safe and that he certainly throws a better punch when he's awake and not asleep which makes him laugh a little. Once he's settled down, the two of you gather the blankets up from the floor and go back to sleep.
☾ ⋆ﾟ Buy me a coffee? ✧⋆.・゜Want to be tagged?
🏷️@writing-noah @aarnodoriann @b3k1720 @veryfancydoilies @elfaoulyyy @havatnah @ayameiris4 @asuni921 @daddyadler
#assassins creed#assassins creed x reader#assassins creed fanfiction#assassins creed fanfic#assassins creed headcanons#altaïr ibn la'ahad#altaïr x reader#ezio auditore#ezio auditore x reader#edward kenway#edward kenway x reader#connor kenway#connor kenway x reader#ratonhnhaké:ton#ratonhnhaké:ton x reader#arno dorian#arno dorian x reader#jacob frye#jacob frye x reader
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TIME TRAVELER ? GAH DAYUM … || DBHxGn!reader.
↳ ❝ [Summary; Connor was assigned to investigate unknown smoke coming from a narrow alley, with Hank, of course. But Hank decided to stay away as Connor followed the unknown smoke. It turns out that someone came out of the smoke, claiming to be a time traveler? lol does it really exist? That person at first looked cute, but over time they even showed their demonic side. ]¡!❞
˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ coughing , curse word , mention of black eyebags , Connor being sweet baby wanting physicals touch , sweet name calling for our sweet baby Connor (Dear , (goofy) pretty boy) , slight flirty reader , devilish reader , mention of not existing , our poor baby getting kick by the reader>:( , mention of gun/shot , goofy ah analyzing describe. Time travel!reader , Gn!reader , slight short!reader (their height is coincided with Connor shoulders) . grammar mistake
༊*·˚ [Name] = your name , [H/c] = hair color , [E/c] = eye color .
He was still standing there, staring at the smoke billowing in front of him with a confused look. He heard something in the smoke. His intention was to get into the smoke to find out what was in it, but Hank forbade him and told him to keep watching from afar.
"GAH DAYUMM, WHAT DID I DESERVE TO GET THIS SMOK---*Chough* *chough*," A foreign voice was heard. The voice sounded calm but ended with a tremendous cough.
As the smoke started to spread in another direction, it could be seen that something inside was trying to escape. Connor was getting ready, readying himself in case something came out intending to attack him.
Instead of coming out to attack, something came out covering half of its face and flicking its other arm in the air. Don't forget, with a cough that sounds sore. It's a person, not an android. The person leaned against the wall of the alley, still coughing. Connor was still waiting for their next move, staring at the person intently
"Oh, hey there!", the person noticed Connor's features, came closer to him and gave him the sweetest smile Connor could see. The person raised their hands for a handshake with Connor, which he accepted. The person's idle hand touched Connor's hand from the back of his.
Now, Connor's hand is held by the other person's warm hands, even though he is an android, he can feel the person's hand which feels warm and comfortable to touch. And one more thing, that person's smile is very sweet.
Moreover, that person looked at Connor with a gentle look, far different from the gazes of people at him, "what's your name, pretty boy?," The person said while winking one of their eyes.
Connor flinched, not used to being called that by someone.
"I am an android sent by Cyberlife, Connor," he said. The person stared at him with wide eyes, their mouths forming an 'o' at Connor's slightly...different self-introduction. But, seconds later, that person smiled broadly and said, "ah! the world is getting more sophisticated huh! What year is it??," they said.
Connor tilted his head, confused by the person's question, "sorry?," he asked the person to repeat what they said. The person rolled their eyes playfully, "I said, what year is it?," they repeated. Connor hesitated to answer the person's question, but he still answered, "This is...2038..?,"
"GAH DAYUMM, ITS ALREADY 2038?? FUCK IM TO SMART,"
Connor was surprised to hear the answer from the person, who sounded really surprised because it was 2038.
The person no longer held Connor's hand, leaving his hand cold. Connor stared at his hand, felt the warmth of someone's hand that suddenly disappeared. Ah...do you have to let go of his grip? Please hold his hand again...
The person massaged their temples as they twirled their bodies around, not believing that they had arrived here. While the person was busy preparing themselves, Connor took the opportunity to analyze the person.
╰──╮[H/c] hair ┈➤Seems pretty fluffy.
╰──╮Time watch ┈➤ keep watch with time? Maybe, keep forgetting the time quickly.
╰──╮Glasses ┈➤ Round design with whimsical patterns. New model?
╰──╮Faint black eyebags ┈➤ no sleep in days, bedtime messed up.
╰──╮Name tag ┈➤ gold piece engraving name, "The greatest time traveler [Name] [L/n]" engraved in bold italic font.
Connor was back in his world, slightly wondering about the "greatest time traveler" name tag. But he was still patiently waiting for their next behavior, looking at that person who kept repeating the words 'how come I got this far???'. His hand moved uncomfortably, wanting to feel that person's hand for the umpteenth time.
"All right, listen to me carefully," The person came back closer, now touching both of Connor's arms, holding them gently. Connor stared intently at their [E/c], focusing on what the person wanted to say, "My name is [Name], and I'm a time traveler. Well, you can tell by my name tag anyway..."
The person said while looking down at their name tag, then looked back at Connor, "Time travelers? That such a thing exists?" Connor asked as he brought their bodies closer together. [Name] nodded, "Yeah, I am the example, you goofy pretty boy," they sighed.
"I'm sorry but I don't really believe it," said Connor, hearing that answer [name] grabbed Connor's arm, looking at him with shining [E/c] eyes, "I didn't ask you to believe me, I just wanted to tell you so you don't have to ask again," [Name] snorted indignantly.
[Name] rested their head on Connor's shoulder, smiling until their eyes narrowed, "and it's also worth noting, I could have gone back to the time when you weren't even created, and stopped whoever created you. In short, I could have made you not exist," they said.
Connor feel their hands gripping his arm tightly. Connor could also feel a big smile on his shoulder. Connor froze, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, [Name] giggled. [Name] laughed heartily, their heads looking up and were no longer resting on Connor's shoulder.
"Ah damn, I'm really sorry--! AHAHAHA," they laughed, walking backwards holding their stomachs. [Name] was still laughing, feeling the devil in them, "AKH! AHAHAHHA ,WAIT WAIT! YOU REALLY DON'T BELIEVE ME??," they said in between their laughs.
"OH ,YOU MADE A BIG MISTAKE DEAR," [Name] ] said with a big smile. Even though they were actually angry because their profession was not trusted, they still smiled and called Connor with affectionate names. Connor clenched his fists, his voice choked so he couldn't get a word out.
[Name]'s laughter slowly subsided, leaving them with their heads down, still smiling. [Name] slowly looked up, looked at Connor with siren eyes, "I'm from 2023 you know, I used my creation to travel through time, go to the future"
[Name] stood up straight, pulled out a gun and shot Connor in the leg. Connor groaned, he knelt on the ground, "apparently I traveled too far in time, it's already 2038," continued [Name], looking at Connor with pity.
"Apparently the world is getting more sophisticated so it creates robots. You know? in 2021-2022, robots are still moving objects using wheels and are just recycled clumps," [Name] crouched down, matching their height with Connor's.
"In 2038, they have made a robot into a human form, I'm amazed," [Name] raised their hand, stroking Connor's cheek gently, "They're already this smart in creating something, I'm afraid if this world is controlled by robots, like theories in 2021-2022"
[Name] stood up, kicked Connor in the stomach, sending him crashing all the way to the ground, "I don't have to worry anymore, because I already know humans created robot detectives? police? what is it, anyway, in the present, the future," [Name] turned around.
They picked up a long brown jacket that had fallen on the ground, dusted it off and put it on. [Name] looked back, smiled devilishly, "Because I will go back in time, and stop the creation of robots,
so you won't exist"
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GOOFYAHFANFIC（￣︶￣）↗
ANYGAYS, I ADDING DBH TO MY FANDOM LIST AYYYY.
Part 2? maybe.
IMSOSADTHATNOONEREQUESTANYTHINGFROMMEEE(┬┬﹏┬┬)
#detroit become human#dbh#dbh connor#rk800 x reader#connor dbh#Connor/rk800 x reader#x reader#gn!reader#dbh x reader#dbh fanfic#alternative universe#au#timetravel!reader#connor the best boi#my baby girl
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The Story of us
So here is the first official chapter of TSOU please enjoy the next chapter is due next sat also face claim for Ophlia is Olivia Holt :)
The story of us look like a tradgey now.
Every story has a beginning, middle and ending. However, my story starts when we were 9 and it's still ongoing. Will it end? I mean we just have to find out.
“He shoots, he scores,” Jamie shouts as he kicks the ball into the goal only to pout when the ball didn't get in, “Lia, you're supposed to let me score,” he whined. Lia laughed as she picked up the ball.
“Im a goalie im suppose to save the goal,”
“But, it's me, your friend. Whatever kick it back to me,”
Lia smiled as she kicked the ball; she watched as it hit Jamie straight in the face. “Crap! MUM aunt Georgie!” Lia screamed before running over to Jamiee, who was trying not to cry.
“I'm so sorry,” she says
“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt.” Lia watched as Georgie ran over to them both, “Im sorry,” she cried; she could feel her mother pull her into a hug, whispering it was not her fault, “Don't be silly darling, just a nose. bleed come on, dinner is ready,”
“So I take it you're not becoming a footballer, then?” Jamie asks as he lies down next to Lia, who shakes her head, “Nope, think I'm going to stick to dancing; less chance of hurting anyone,”
“Shame, I would be awesome. Jamie Tarrt's best friend is another footballer; we both be famous,”
“Really, keep dreaming,” Lia mumbles.
“Oh, come think about I’ll be a famous footballer, and you be a famous dancer; we make quite a pair,”
“Keep dreaming; what if I don't wanna be a dancer or you don't want to be a footballer?”
“Why wouldn’t I be a footballer? What am I good at?” he asked, slightly upset.
“I mean, we are 9; what if by the time we're old, we doing totally different things,”
“Not me, I'm a footballer, just watch. I’ll be playing besides Roy Kent and you, well, you be an amazing dancer on Broadway, who will come to my games obviously,”
“And why is that? What if I don't want to be a dancer, or I'm not even your friend by then?” Jamie glanced at Ophelia, “Where is all of this coming from?” he asked as he turned on his stomach.
“You might not see it, but close your eyes and imagine it. I do; when I'm at home in my bed, I close my eyes and think, "I mean, can't you imagine it,” Jamie glanced over at Lia, who had her eyes closed; a slight smile could be seen. “We can make it,” he whispered.
That was Jamie all over even from a young age he knew what he wanted to be, stubborn from the day he was born, that what georgie use to say about him, and i can see why most of us at the age of 9 don't even know what we want to play with but Jamie, he knew and that what i remember about him once he gets an idea he stick at it no matter how embarrassing, silly or hard it is.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
5 years and nothing has changed well not for Jamie at least he is still trying to be a footballer, and he is pretty good, I mean he Jamie he is currently playing on a u16 team and he will get scouted. I mean look at him.
“So how did this happen again?” Coach Adams says as he glares at the teenagers sitting in his office, his eyes landing on the only non-injured person. “Tarrt, explain,”
“Well, it was an open game, meaning anyone could play, so this girl asked to play with us, and we all agreed except Connor, who said girls are weak, but we ignored him and let her play. She has a mean kick; once she scored a goal, she turned to Connor and said it was embarrassing that someone who plays football defeated a girl. The next time she had a ball, he did a dirty tackle, causing her to fly across the pitch,” He says, looking over at the girl; she seemed very familiar. “So, how did Connor get a busted nose?” Adams asked.
“Because after he tackled me, I went to be the goalkeeper, stopped Connor from scoring, and then kicked the ball, hitting him in the face, which was an accident. I have a habit of kicking the ball into people's faces. Just ask my mum,”
“Connor, is this true?” Adam asked,
“No sir, they're lying. Tartt is jealous that I'm better than him and got this bitch to attack me!” he says.
“Call me a bitch and see what happens,” the girl says, standing up and facing him, causing Jamie to stand between them.
“Well, Connor, according to the camera, their story adds up. Miss, I'm sorry. What is your name?” Adam asks.
“Ophelia, Hart,”
Jamie froze; no, this is not her, “Well, Miss Hart, the under-16 woman, is looking for a new player,”
“Sorry, sir, but football is not really my thing,”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I'm more for dancing. I'm only here cause my mum was picking me up with an old friend,”
“Well, that's a shame if dancing doesn't work out; you know where to find me. As for you, Connor, I think two weeks of being benched and helping the girl's team would do you some good. Tarot, well done for not causing trouble this time,”
Jamie watched as Connor stormed off, not before glaring at them both, “Well, that went well,” Lia said, looking at her phone. “Nice seeing you again, Tarrt; I am slightly offended that you didn't remember me. i thought that kick would make you remember she mumbles.
“Shit Lia, my Lia who used to live next to me,” Jamie says. “Fuck, your hot,” “shit, I mean,” Jamie shut his mouth before he could make things worse; he noticed Lia laughing at him.
I loved being his Lia.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9 years old.
When Jamie found out Lia was leaving, they ran away, more like hiding in the treehouse Lia's dad built for them, “We could stay here, you know,” Jamiee says as he stares up at the ceiling. “Or me mum can have ya; she always said you were a daughter she always wanted,”
“I tried, no luck; mum showed me where we will live. It's nice, but it means I won't see you,” she says. “I mean, were J&L the famous footballer and the dancer,”
“Thought you said it was a silly dream,”
“It's not silly, it's nice something to dream about, and as to quote snow white, if you dream it more than once, it will come true so,”
“I've got you something. Had to beg me mum, but here,” Jamie dropped a little box into Lia's hand. Lia smiled when she opened the box, “It's a football necklace, so you can wear it whenever you miss me.”
That was the end of us, I mean I thought it was you know how it is at 9 the littlest thing is the end of the world, but moving away from your best friend is definitely the worst thing, if only she knew the worst is yet to come.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Present.
“I see you still dreaming of being a famous footballer?” Lia asked as she sat on the steps of the sports centre
“Of course, and what about you? Are you still my dancer?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“Yeah, actually, there is this audition to join a dance team,”
“You smash it when is it?”
“I already had it; it's why I came here. Mum said she would pick me up after she had a catch-up with someone,”
“So, how long have you been back?” he asked.
“2 years ago, we lived in Sheffield and then moved back here a few months ago.” Just then, there was a beep; the couple looked to see Emma and Georgie in the car, “Lia, what happened!” Emma says as she jumps out of the car.
“Relax, mum, it's fine,” Lia says.
“It's true, Emma; you should see the other guy,” Jamie watched as Emma stared at him.
“Jamiee,” Emma says, pulling him into a hug; he watches as Georgie does the same to Ophelia. “Oh, how you guys have grown,”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 years later.
It's strange, being friends with someone, I mean we knew each other since we were 9 and watching them grow, however it was hard, watching seeing the person you once knew change and not for the best, Jamie was changing, he knew he was good.
“Tarrt scores another goal, making it 3-1,” Ophelia smiles as Jamie runs around the pitch, cheering with his teammates; she noticed that Adams was talking to someone she knew Jamie was being scouted for.
When the games ended, everyone stood up cheering; Opheila watched as Jamie ran over and pulled her into a kiss, causing his teammates to whoop and cheer. Ophelia watched as Jamiee dragged her over to his teammates, “I see you have met my gorgeous girlfriend,”
“So what did you think?” Jamie asked as he gave Opheila his jacket.
“You were good,” she says looking up at him, “So what did Andrew want to talk to you about?”
“Oh, I'm being scouted, for man city, there is an over 16 junior football team and he says i have potential but i need to play really well in my next few games so hopefully i'll be playing professionally next year.”
And he did, when Jamie got told the news we had a massive party, his team, me my mum his mum and step dad, it was one of the best memories we had, i remember he pulled me away from the party, and we shared a moment just the two of us, if only i knew
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 years later.
“What do you mean we're done?” Ophelia asks.
“Well, since im big time now, i think i should date someone you know in my league, i mean, im Jamie fucking Tarrt. Besides, you haven't been a good girlfriend. i mean, ever since i got signed, you haven't been to any of the games. Do you know how embarrassing it is,”
“Are you fucking kidding me, i have a life, new flash; the world doesn't revolve around you, i have a life alright, and your right, i haven't been a girlfriend, but you've been a shit boyfriend, tell me do you know what day it is?”
“No, if it's so important, I wouldn't have forgotten,” Jamie watched as Ophelia flipped him off; only then did he notice the suitcase. “Are you seriously leaving me, babe? No one leaves me?”
“I am, happy fucking 5 years anniversary to us,”
There we are the story done, from childhood friends, to lover to strangers all the memories we shared that's all we had, you know how it is we split up went our different ways, and so that was it the end of us, well i thought it was but apparently life loves to throw a spanner into the works.
#fanfiction#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x ofc#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt x female character#jamie tartt imagine
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Right away, my first DC Highschool au post. I made the dialogue up as I went so… spare me
This post includes: My favourite hs duo, Alex Luthor and Bruce Wayne.
Lex Luthor and Batman are roughhousing on the hard concrete behind the school building, blood is dripping from each others faces as they both roll around the ground swinging fists and kicking.
Lex Luthor: I am going to kill you, Prince. And you won’t be able to talk back to me then. You’ll - -
Batman, punches him in the jaw: Shut up you freak.
Lex Luthor: Rrgh… IM the freak? You look like you haven’t touched the bathroom floor in weeks.
Batman: fuck you, egotistical bastard.
The fight continued even when the rain started and the twos blood began to mix in the water and stain their clothes worse than the battle already had. At some point the two lost track of time, focused only on beating the other to the ground. Until the bell rings, and they are snapped back to reality.
Batman: Oh.
Lex Luthor: Huh.
.
.
.
Bruce: uhhh…well. We have a Business Economics test tomorrow… If you want to you can bring Connor to my house and we could study.
Lex: Ahh… Kon has been begging me to let him stay over with that little kid of yours, Jim or whatever.
Bruce: It’s Tim, my little brother. So is that a yes, or…?
Lex: Yeah why not, beats following Joker around and paying for all his shit.
Bruce: Alright, cool. I can text my dad to pick me up or we could jump a ride in Clarks Bentley.
Lex: Ugh… Your dad, please… I don’t think I can stand sitting in Poopermans stupid fake Bentley…
Bruce: You really think it’s fake?
Lex: I suppose it’s a popular theory in my inner Circle. Harvey said he chose it as a debate once in class and it became messy.
They walk over to the front of the school while Bruce texts his Dad, Alfred.
Bruce: Yeah yeah, Harvey told me about that. Nygma threw a tantrum didn’t he?
Lex: Yes. Harvey said that the team supporting the Fake Bentley argument had better points and won. Edward was absolutely pissed.
Bruce: Epic.
.
.
.
Bruce: I also have the wii
Lex: yes
#DC#dc au#high school#Highschool dc#Highschool dc au#Gotham Highschool#Lex luthor#Bruce Wayne#Batman#the Batkids are in middle school apart from Damian who’s in elementary#the Bentleys fake#he also can’t drive he’s only 16#superman#he’s mentioned so#they have a horrible fight then study right after#Bruce Wayne and lex Luthor
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nick watches spiderman
oh boy okay. agh. here we go. right off the bat the opening is just SO good??? its so sick and for what??? the soundtrack to both films also is very clearly 2010s pop music or whatever but still im a fan. shoutout to 2012 and 2014 specifically (bc thats when the movies came out KJHKJASHG)
peter playing hide and seek with his father in the beginning of tasm is very cute until u realize why his fathers hiding =]
AGH. richard parker.
oh yeah i forgot abt the office. so richards office gets broken into and like ransacked bc oscorp employees (????) were looking for his data on the spiders. is this ever stated in either film? no.
anyway! time to abandon our child and leave the country! - richard and mary parker
we learn basically nothing abt mary btw like we have noooo idea who she is shes just there
OKAY ALSO in the first film when theyre leaving richard says "be good" and just shuts the door. in the SECOND one he holds peters hand and rubs his thumb over it then says it and leaves. idk why its different its probably just a mistake but i noticed
FLASH THOMPSON this flash is soooo interesting he has such a fun character
peter being a scrawny brunette white boy and a skater and photographer in like the 2010s and also somehow being single is baffling to me
anyway hes abt to get his shit kicked in
remember how i said flash is a fun character? hes not rn he kinda sucks BUT he gets better
like he hits peter a few times but he gets better i promise
SHOUTOUT TO GWEN shes awesome she doesnt suffer from "only worth being a love interest" disease she actually has a full character
also her checking on peter after the fight is so cute
most of her character development and stuff comes in the second film bc it focuses on their relationship more but its so fun
"ben parker dont u even think abt leaving that filthy box in my kitchen" "these are my bowling trophies" "oh well then by all means please leave that filthy box in my kitchen" I LOOOOVE MAY AND BEN
ben is such a fun father figure for peter. like he says he doesnt know how to parent and take care of him well enough but honestly? he does a pretty good job
THIS. GODDAMN BRIEFCASE. THIS BRIEFCASE RUINS SO MUCH.
"guess who sold it to him? your mother, thats how they met" AGHHHH THATS SOOOO CUTE anyway whatever back to peter
oh yeah the photo of richard and curt. the start of it all. KGJHSKJGH this causes so many issues for everyone now
peter parker in glasses. i wanna be him.
im genuine peter parker is like prime gender envy for me i wanna be him soooo bad
THE DOOR LOCK he managed to build his own remote controlled door lock its so fun
ben is suchhh a good character to compare to richard. bens not even blood to peter but he treated him so incredibly well. and ik richard was in danger and thats why he left but he also just left his son. its more complicated than that for sure but at this point chronologically thats all we know
curt and richard working together is soooo interesting bc richard was just out here working for everyone JGHSKJHG
"youll find your badge to the left" [peter looks for two seconds] "are you having trouble finding yourself?" MAAM GIVE HIM TIME KJGJKSHF
like yes he snuck into this very important building and stole an internship slot from someone else but still!! let the man find a fake name!!!
GWEN oh yeah gwen is dr connors head intern she is so incredibly smart JKGHJSKHGKJ like u see her intelligence a lot more in the second film but shes so smart and i love her so much im a gwen stacy fan
each of the spiderman villains (or marvel in general) either want revenge or to make the world perfect. or both. gimme somethin new. /LHLH ITS FUN I ENJOY THE LIZARD PLOT
"hes second in his class" "second?" "yeah" "are you sure about that?" "im pretty sure" peter and gwen my beloveds <333
they have such a fun relationship and it drives me crazy theyre so cute jhafkjhskj even when theyre not together theyre still like. friends. (dont think abt the second movie we're not there yet)
i wish i was watching this with someone so i wouldnt have to explain whats happening on screen while also giving thoughts abt it. whos gonna step up and watch spiderman with me.
PETER. HE JUST BROKE INTO THE BIG SECRET SCIENCE LAB> U CANT JUST.
hes a little stupid
this might go without saying but if ur arachnophobic i do not recommend watching the first movie bc this whole lab sequence is just a shit ton of spiders. the second movie should be good but this one is. not.
anyway peters touching things and its not going well for him
OH YEAH CURTS TALKING ABT NORMAN okay so dr connors work is strictly to work on curing norman osborn bc he has retroviral hyperplasia (the osborn curse) hes not actually working to help ppl, thats not what he was hired for, hes here to help cure norman so that he doesnt die from this disease that no ones cured yet
so what theyre essentially doing is trying cross species genetics to see if some animal with like. self healing abilities. (like a spider) would cure norman if used in the correct way. thats also what richard was working on with him but we dont learn abt that for a while.
ANYWAY MY FRIEND IS DOING STUFF SO IM GONNA PAUSE HERE. ILL PICK BACK UP ON THIS LATER TONIGHT <3
#nick watches spiderman#loooove this movie. here are my thoughts for the first like 20 minutes of it JKGHSKJGHKJ
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Okay so my playthrough clocked in at a little over 93 hours. Though probably a couple hours longer than that bc it took me 4 times to beat the Final Fight and there was also a couple of other optional boss encounters that kicked my ass lmao
BIG DA:O SPOILERS BELOW!!!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So fun fact: I fucked my playthrough up at like the 87 hour mark 😭💔 I tried to be a decent person and not kill Loghain and let him go through with the Joining. Did not expect that Allistaire would throw a WHOLE-ASS TANTRUM and ditch us for good right before the final fight 🤬
Like bro I GET why you were hurt and angry but also??? This is literally a war to save a zillion lives we needed all the help we could get. Loghain was gonna die anyway. You bitched at me EVERY OTHER TIME I killed somebody (ok Connor was an accident. But he bitched me out over Brother Genetivi when he was gonna reveal the ashes and everything?!?). Bro goes on and on about honor and helping ppl and the Grey Wardens and then he literally just DIPS before the biggest fight ever. I thought he was gonna come back at the end and help when he came to his senses but NAH. WE'RE STRAIGHT UP DIVORCED FOREVER HE DIDN'T COME BACK OR COME TO MY CEREMONY AFTER. I NEVER SAW HIM AGAIN 😭💔💔💔💔 GLAD U LET UR HALF-SISTER DIE BITCH IM P SURE GOLDANNA'S HOUSE WAS RUBBLE IN BURNED-DOWN DENERIM. FUCK OFF YOU WHINY SELFISH PRICK I LOST SO MUCH RESPECT FOR YOU
Also Morrigan left that night too bc I wouldn't go with her fucked up demon baby plan lmao. Which I don't fault her for to be fair, I get she couldn't bear to see her only friend EVER die ☠️ I'm actually hype af for my future morally-awful playthru bc I will DEFINITELY be seeing that plan then lmao.
But yeah. MY CHARACTER GOT TO FINISH THE GAME AND GO THRU THE BIG FINALE FIGHT WITHOUT THE TWO BIGGEST SUPPORTERS THAT GOT HER THERE AND STARTED THE JOURNEY 😭😭😭 SHIT H U R T S
If I didn't have Leiliana and Meatball as my ride-or-dies my protag woulda been completely devastated for real like COME ON 😭💔 THANK GOD FOR HER BESTIE AND HER DOG THE REAL MVPS 😔🙏
Actually I was a little let down by the final fight. Like it was a cool concept and I enjoyed getting to play with the ballistas bc u keep seeing them in other parts of the game. But I basically had to play as Leiliana the whole time ajdkdjj. I built my character as a badass warrior with BUSTED strength and it was lowkey useless bc the final boss is out of range for 90% of the fight and I sold my crossbow to Sandal for more healing potions. Broooo 😭☠️💔
So yeah uh. SUPER awesome game I loved 90% of it (the combat on ps3 actually kills my hands bc of the constant L2 holding or tapping for radial menu and giving orders. SO PAINFUL please tell me they change this in the sequels it fucking HURTS). Fyi it actually was an interesting ending, I don't fault it and actually thematically it was cool to team up with Loghain for the last few hours, I'm just emotionally butthurt my whole imagined future with Allistaire went down the drain 😭💔 I love how many choices you get in this game tho and how they aren't always predictable. It's nice to not be able to 'game the system' for a 'perfect' ending as much as say, P5 or similar rpg/jrpgs lol. I like that you can fuck up REAL BAD with your companions lmao.
I have the other 2 games on ps3 waiting, fighting the urge to dive into 2 asap bc I want to digest Origins first but mmmm. I see why ppl went crazy for these. If I'd had these a decade ago I woulda replayed SO MANY times for real, this is what I wanted out of Skyrim story/companion-wise 🙏
#bear txt#not omo#dao spoilers#the urge to replay origins for the other starters and endings/romances vs i can't pour another 50 hours in rn akdkflgl
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2/2 ‘TED MADE IT! IM SO HAPPY! YAY TEDDY AND EMMETT ADVENTURE TIME!!! Damn it, so everyone is in couples except Brian and Justin. Why couldn’t Brian go with Justin to LA? This sucks’ ‘oh wow Lindsay is really a fucking bitch. I get the worry though but holy shit what the fuck happened to her? I hate this shit. Throw them both away’ he is so annoyed with Lindsay and Melanie that he is currently repeating the words ‘break up’ over and over. They break up: ‘I TOLD YALL THIS SHIT LIKE TWO SEASONS AGO. FUCKING FINALLY now lets go to Brian and Justin’ ben and michael got engaged ‘man, they’re really stealing the spotlight, huh? DUDE. THIS IS NOT THE TIME. Stealing Debbies shine. Rude.’ And Justin is officially in LA ‘so he went to LA? When? What? Huh? This looks like that party at that club dudes place. I still don’t like this director guy. I hate this. Okay be honest, who is this actor Connor supposed to be? Tom Cruise? Or? He better not get in a way of my two boys or I’m fighting every person who wrote this show.‘ and the gang made it to Toronto ‘so this is like a play on that toronto is like Gay Pittsburgh? This does look like Woodys. BRIAN! OH MY GOD ITS BRIAN! Okay pause *stops tv AGAIN* listen. Remember how Brian reacted to Hunters handjob thingy? Pair that up with Hunters reaction to Brian explaining planes to Mike. BAM! Uncle and nephew duo! I love these two. I can’t believe i didnt think he wouldnt go to canada with a plane. That makes the most sense in the whole show. HE’S RIDING! THE RIDE! Wait stop. *pauses tv AGAIN!* so let me get this right? He found out from Mike that Justin was wanted in LA and his immediate reaction when realizing that Justin is turning it down is to lie about not doing the ride so that Justin wouldn’t sacrifice his future? What the fuck? I mean i know he cares about his future *looks at me and smiles* thats kinda the hottest part about him. But this is UGH. AW BRI AND EM HUGGED! AND HES SMILING! I AM SO HAPPY THAT HE IS FINALLY HAPPY BUT HELL, BLONDIE IS MISSING’ ‘i forgot how much Brian hates marriages. Im kinda surprised that they went that extra with it. Id get if he hated it for himself but others? I feel like he would be more of a minding my own business kinda person. Like me. *looks at me like he’s really proud of himself* me and Brian are clearly the same person because i know my bri bri.’ And we are back to LA ‘i dont know why but i really hate this. Like it’s weird. I love Blondie and the idea of his career becoming huge is awesome but this is just eh. (Justin says his ‘fucking’ line in the meeting) OH MY GOD. I FUCKING LOVE HIM LIKE THIS! PLEASE BLONDIE NEVER CHANGE! This kinda reminds me of when Brian said to Debbie that being a true american is getting fucked in the ass when they went to vote. They really are made for each other’ Mikey/Ben’s wedding is on ‘WHAT THE FUCK?! ALREADY? Awww Brian is his best man! No matter how he feels about stuff, he still cares the most about his friends. *points to tv* BRIAN IS THROWING THE CONFETTI! HES HAPPY FOR THEM BUT HE HAS TO BE GRUMPY AT TIMES. MY BABY HAS GROWN SO MUCH!’ ‘I just realized that Brian missed lindsays wedding and Blondie missed this one. They really cant be together. What the fuck is wrong with writers? Why do they hate them?’ And the Ride has officially started ‘AW BRIAN IS GONNA KICK ASS! Debbie is his mother! Why am i getting emotional by this, i already knew it? This wouldve been better with Blondie but GO BRI BRI! I AM ROOTING FOR YOU!!! We should do something like this. You think its hard? We could have little pride flags on it like Ted! DID YOU SEE BRIS SMILE AT THE END? He tries to act tough but damn it, he really is finally happy, isnt he? If only fucking LA didn’t ruin it. But it’s okay, we got one more episode and all will be fixed!’ He is fully convinced that Brian will confess his love in the last ep. He is so sure that he sent a voice memo to family group chat AND friend group chat to let them know that the ‘i love you scene is coming up in the next episode! I’ll let you guys know how the fuck its gonna go down’
I’m with your brother - I love Brian getting excited for Mikey and Ben. He may not want marriage (loaded statement I know) but he wants to help others who do want it! Just like with Mel and Lindsay! (who are now broken up so that’s not a great example)
Brian has to go on the ride and not to LA for MANHOOD reasons. It’s stupid. It’s a dumb storyline. They could have done so much more with the history of the AIDS ride. Alas.
GAH! Work. More later!
#ask winderlylandchime#dear sweet anon#queer as folk#a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023
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watching the orange years bc im a rabid nicktoons enjoyer and THEY NEED TO START SLIMING PEOPLE AGAIN!!!!!
#connor talks#oh to be nickelodeon slimed....#things have been going so weird lately that i was like. oh yeah. i could get an internship there one day. and it blew my fucking mind#school im going to transfer to and they have mandatory internships to graduate and one of the studios listed is nickelodeon#PLEASEEEE please future connor pull through and get us there#LIKE nothing is a better kick in the pants motivator than hey connor spongebob is still running. you could work on SPONGEBOB#again a pipe dream but like. THEORETICALLY??? HOLY FUCK#(im an animation major for those new here. pretty terrible at the school part but)
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𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: vinnie hacker x fem!influencer!reader
𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: vinnie and y/n are crushing on each other, but too scared to make a move, so thomas has them share a trailer on the joshua tree trip.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: swearing, ghosts, reader is on her period, michael and reader tease each other, and fluff!
𝗔/𝗡: here it is! the final installment of the hype house doc series <3 also, sorry if it’s not well written, i had the worst migraine while writing this 😩
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“Y/N! HURRY UP!”
she paced the kitchen, stuffing things in her suitcase that was placed on the table. “i’m sorry, i’m not gonna be able to make it to my 1 o’clock appointment tomorrow. can i reschedule for thursday?”
“Y/N!” she could hear the crew call her name from the car in the driveway.
“HOLD ON!” she snapped, trying to finish the phone call. she zipped up the suitcase and propped it up, the phone held by her shoulder. “yeah, i can do 3.”
she accidentally missed the wheel, and kicked the bottom frame of the kitchen counter. wincing, she quickly said her thank you’s to the man on the phone and skipped outside.
the horns were honking and she was pretty sure that everyone was annoyed with her.
“HURRY THE FUCK UP!” vinnie yelled from the back seat of the car, not looking up from his phone.
“WILL YOU SHUT UP?! IM RIGHT HERE!” she tried not to trip over her sneakers as she put her suitcase in the trunk.
“crying out loud.” she muttered.
“there she is! the princess has arrived.” thomas joked.
“yeah, what the hell took you so long?” kouvr asked, her and the girl looked at one another through the window.
“i had to cancel my hair appointment for tomorrow because SOMEONE decided to tell me about the trip at the last minute.” she indirected thomas.
“sorry.”
“okay, well let’s go. get in!” alex chimes in.
y/n opened the car door that michael was leaning on, analyzing everyone in the vehicle. “where am i supposed to sit?”
“just-“ michael scootched over and let her squeeze in.
“thank you.” she slammed the car door, being sandwiched between it and michael. beside michael was alex and kouvr, while vinnie, calvin, connor, and patrick were behind her.
“let’s go!”
“why do i have to be squished, bro!” she could hear connor complaining behind her.
“you’re squished? look at me!” she stood up to see him, taking a short glance at vinnie who was looking at her, before playing it off and looking back at connor.
“yeah, you’re right.” calvin laughed at connors reply, and y/n turned and sat back down— silently wishing that she was beside vinnie instead.
her and vinnie were crushing on one another.
bad.
everyone knew about it, but they were both too nervous to do anything. the two had a small friends with benefits thing going— both of them making out if they were left alone for two long— but the next day, vinnie would act like nothing ever happened. he was sending y/n mixed signals and she couldn’t help but assume that his feelings for her were just attraction and nothing more.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“alright guys, i’m gonna be picking rooms soon.” thomas announced, making patrick stand up.
“what? you’re picking rooms?”
“i’m picking room.” he stated.
oh god.
y/n wasn’t sure who’s room she’d be sharing with, but vinnie kept popping into her mind. thomas knew about their feelings for one another, so they couldn’t help but worry about being paired together.
“thomas, i swear if you pair me up with michael..” y/n joked.
“oh PLEASE, THOMAS, DONT ROOM ME WITH HER! I WONT SURVIVE!”
“will you two shut up? you guys aren’t roomed together …yet.” he muttered under his breath.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“why’d you make that face?” michael asked the girl, wincing beside him. “are you constipated or something?”
“no, dickwad, i’m on my period.” y/n smacked him, whining again at the pain that flooded her pelvis.
“me too!” kouvr leaned over to see y/n, high-fiveing her. “oh, can we PLEASE have our own bathrooms? i refuse to be on my period and share a bathroom.”
“same.”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“i’m about to pee my pants, bro..” alex warned.
“sick, dude.” y/n remarked, scrolling through tiktoks on her phone with one airpod in.
“same!”
y/n’s heart fluttered when vinnie popped up on her explore page. she immediately scrolled away, somewhat embarrassed about it, like he would catch her watching him. thankfully, he was seated so that he wouldn’t be able to see, but she still didn’t want anyone else seeing.
was she overreacting? probably.
“alright, pee break!”
y/n got out of the car, careful not to fall. her baggy black jeans hung on her hips, the small rips showing her skin in the sunlight, and she adjusted the strap on her black lacy tank top, the most minimal amount of stomach showing.
“please tell me we are almost there…”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
almost half of the bus had all fallen asleep. y/n knew michael was out, when his head hit her shoulder.
“what the—“ she was about to go off on him, when she noticed his sleepy state.
“psst.” she tried to signal to mia who sat in front of her.
mia turned around. “what?” when she saw michael asleep, she tried to contain her laughter, tapping thomas on the shoulder to get his attention.
when y/n turned around, she saw all of the boys behind her asleep— including vinnie. her heart did that weird fluttering feeling again when she saw how adorable he was. his sleepy state was the most precious thing she’d ever seen.
“kouvr is out too.” thomas whispered. they all took their phones out and began filming them.
y/n contemplated taking a picture of vinnie. he looked so cute but she didn’t want to seem stalkerish, so she decided against it.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“WE’RE HERE! EVERYBODY WAKE THE FUCK UP, ITS TIME TO PARTY BITCHES!” y/n shouted, standing up and shaking michael awake.
“MICHAEL, WAKE YOUR BITCH ASS UP!”
he groaned and swatted y/n away before she hopped out of the car and grabbed her stuff from the trunk.
once everyone was out of the car, they all raced to their trailers. y/n was the last one there, since she was busy eating a chocolate bar that she packed.
“bro, how is it that y/n was the first one out of the car, but she’s the last one to get here.” calvin joked.
“i’m eating.” she spoke, her mouthful of chocolate. she saw vinnie and kouvr’s amused expressions and smiled.
“where did you get that?” vinnie asked, walking up to her and shoving a hand in his pocket while the other hand held his bag.
“hey sleepyhead! i packed it, why?”
“i’m jealous.” he eyed her chocolate and grinned.
“you want some?”
“yes please.” vinnie held his hands out like he was a little boy, dropping his bag in the process. y/n breaked off half of the hershey’s bar and placed it in his hands.
“wait, seriously?!” his mouth dropped, seeing how much chocolate she gave him. she nodded, humming while she chewed.
“you’re the best, oh my god.” he took a bite of the chocolate before putting an arm around her and giving her a half-hug.
“can i have chocolate?” michael asked.
“no, fuck off.”
“but why does vinnie get chocolate!?” he whined, his voice reminding y/n of a middle schooler,
“because, i like vinnie.”
“oh trust me, we know.” michael spoke as he turned around and walked away.
y/n tried to fight the heat that crept up to her face and hoped that vinnie didn’t notice how flustered she was.
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
when y/n and vinnie found out that they were rooming together, they weren’t sure what to expect from the trailer they shared— but what they got was by far unexpected.
“what the—“
the trailer door opened and y/n was met with a bunch of lit candles, lined up in a row that trailed to a single bed with flower petals on it. not only was the room small, but the tv was extremely outdated compared to everyone else’s.
“um..”
vinnie couldn’t stop laughing, while y/n stood there in shock. “wow, one bed, huh?”
“yep.” thomas spoke, opening the door and walking outside of it. “have fun!” with that, he closed the door, leaving y/n and vinnie alone.
i’m gonna kill him…
they could hear the faint laughing of people, indicating that they all were in on the joke.
“well this is something…” y/n jumped on the bed, removing her sneakers and placing them on the floor. vinnie stood next to their luggage, leaning against the wall in amusement.
“they really want us together, huh?”
“it seems like it!”
“you gotta admit, it is nice not having cameras with us..”
“yeah, they’re all probably filming thomas and mia and whatever drama they have going on, which is definitely good for us.”
“yeah, we don’t have to worry about them.” vinnie smiled, fiddling with his hands.
he was awful with girls.
that’s what he’d do whenever he was alone with y/n— just stand there like a cpu and wait for her to say something— but y/n didn’t mind. as long as he was comfortable.
y/n grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “this tv is older than my grandma.”
“i’m gonna go get food, do you want some?”
“um, sure!“
“is pizza okay?”
“yeah, that’s fine. oh, and vinnie? you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to…i mean, if you’d rather be with the guys—“
“no! no, i’m staying. trust me, i’d rather be with you right now.”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“nah, this is some bullshit because baron is with the guys watching fucking ratatouille and we don’t even have netflix! you’d think for filming a netflix documentary, that they’d give us netflix, right?!” she took a bit from her pizza, the two of them on the bed beside one another.
y/n was seated cris cross while vinnie had his legs out and his head up against the headboard. she went on nickelodeon and saw that airbender was on, deciding that it would do.
“i’ll sleep on the floor, by the way.” she randomly blurted out, making vinnie snap out of the show.
“what? why?”
“well, i mean, unless you want to share the bed—“
“i’m fine sharing the bed! but if you don’t want to…” vinnie was defensive.
“no, i do! i just wasn’t sure if you wanted to…”
“oh..well, i do.”
“okay.”
“okay.” vinnie mumbled, the tension becoming almost unbearable as the minutes passed. they were both surprised that they weren’t making out by now. y/n watched as vinnie took a swing of his drink.
“i hope you don’t mind, but i sleep naked—“
vinnie choked on his drink and fell into a coughing fit, y/n laughing at the sight. “are you okay?!”
vinnie’s face was red and he took deep breaths, nodding,
“i was just joking by the way…i just like seeing how riled up i can get you.”
“oh..phew.”
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
“this place is so haunted.”
“vinnie, ghosts aren’t real.” the two of them had been listening to the weird footsteps that paced back and forth outside of their trailer.
“check again.” vinnie muttered.
y/n got up and peeked, seeing no one there. “nothing.”
“oh, god we are gonna die. there’s deadass a ghost, y/n.”
“vinnie, you are overreacting—“ as if on cue, two of the candles blew out. y/n’s mouth fell open and she quickly jumped under the covers with vinnie.
“okay maybe it is haunted…”
“this is so scary, what the fuck.” the two laughed, something they did when they were nervous.
“maybe the ghost is hot..”
“y/n—“
“no, really! maybe they look like chris evans—“
“oh god—“ vinnie groaned.
“or whatever girl you find attractive!” vinnie looked over at her, the two of them gone quiet for a brief moment.
“why do you always look at me like that?” y/n questioned, noticing how anxious vinnie became.
“like what?”
“like you wanna kiss me.”
“well…i do.” vinnie stated, gulping as he looked at her lips. his face inched closer to hers.
“wait, i-i don’t want to do this if you don’t mean it.”
“what do you mean?” he backed away, his brows furrowed.
“i need to know if it’s just attraction or if you actually like me. what do you want from this?”
vinnie’s lips pressed into a line. “well…i’d like it if we were exclusive, if that’s what you’re asking me.”
y/n couldn’t hide her smile. “so…you like like me?”
“yeah. do you like like me?”
y/n nodded her head vigorously. “can you um…hurry up and ask me out?”
“sure. so…y/n y/l/n, will you go out with me?” vinnie leaned in so their lips were almost touching,
“hmmmm….. i guess so.” wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in for their most passionate make out sesh ever.
the next morning, they woke up in one another’s arms and were met with the aftermath of the drama from last night. while everyone filled them in, they explained the ghosts they heard last night. the constant creaking and voices they heard, were scary, but being in one another’s arms made it a lot better.
while they were thankful for joshua tree bringing them together, y/n and vinnie never wanted to go back.
ever.
━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
@radioblah-blah @janesofia7 @sofslander @pisceslibrasun @jjmayba @littlewolfieposts @burn1ngw00d
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Floating Through Space - Harry Styles
a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺
the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!
pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader
warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao
word count: 25.7k
masterlist
This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?
Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.
Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.
“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.
Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.
You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.
“Don’t wear men’s pants.”
“You’d look better in a dress.”
“Why do you look like a guy?”
“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”
Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.
There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.
“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”
“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.
“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.
“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”
“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.
“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.
“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.
“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”
“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”
“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”
“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.
“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.
Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.
“Oi, can I ask for one?”
Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.
“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.
“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.
“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.
“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!
“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”
“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.
“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.
“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.
“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.
“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.
“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”
“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.
“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”
“Not even once,” you shake your head.
“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.
“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.
“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”
“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.
“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”
They stay silent and you know you were right.
“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.
“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”
Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.
Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.
The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.
“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.
“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.
“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.
“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”
“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.
Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.
“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.
You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.
You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.
Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.
“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”
Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.
It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.
Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.
“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.
“Are you home already?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.
You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.
“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.
“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.
“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”
“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”
“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.
“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”
“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.
“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.
“See?” she smiles warmly.
“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”
“Harry Styles.”
You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.
“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”
Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.
“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”
“You and Harry?”
“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.”
“Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.
“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”
“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”
“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”
“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.
Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.
Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.
Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.
“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”
“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.
“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”
One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.
Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.
Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.
Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.
“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.
“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.
“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.
“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.
“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”
“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, thank you. Back at you.”
“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.
The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.
“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.
“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”
You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.
“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.
“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.
“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.
“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”
“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.
“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.
“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.
“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”
“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.
“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”
“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”
“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”
You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”
“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”
“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.”
Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.
“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”
“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.
“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”
“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.
“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”
“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.
“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.
“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”
“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”
You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.
The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.
“I would… love to work on a song with you.”
When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.
You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.
You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.
The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.
“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.
“Yeah, everything went fine.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?
However, Harry can see right through you.
“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.”
“Harry, no need, I—“
“No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.
“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”
“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”
“What?”
“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”
“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.
“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”
It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.
“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.
“You guys still talk?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.
“You miss being with the band?”
“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”
“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.
“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”
You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.
“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”
“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.
“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”
Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.
“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.
“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.
“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.
“Nothing pissed you off lately?”
“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.
“It’s… a long story.”
“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”
Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.
“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”
Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.
“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.
“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.
“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”
“You’re right,” you nod smiling.
The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.
Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.
“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t know how not to stress?”
“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”
“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”
“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”
“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”
“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.
“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”
“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”
“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”
“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”
“Are you gonna smoke?”
“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”
“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”
Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.
You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.
“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”
“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”
“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”
“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”
“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.
“Did he ever stop?”
“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”
You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.
“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.
“What?”
His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.
“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.
You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.
“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.
“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.
“Do you want to go for a swim?”
“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.
“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.
“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.
“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.
“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”
“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.
With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.
When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.
“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.
“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.
Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.
“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.
“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.
“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck. “This feels so nice.”
“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.
“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”
“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.
You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.
“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”
“Which one?”
“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”
You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.
“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”
“What was the name of the song?”
“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”
“Can I ask why you left your parents?”
“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”
The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.
“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”
“No,” you shake your head.
“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”
“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”
“Woah, that sounds really tough.”
“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”
You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.
“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”
“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.
“You could say that,” you nod into the water.
“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.
“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.
“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.
“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.
“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”
“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.
“Damn right,” he smirks.
And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.
The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.
“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.
“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.
“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.
“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”
“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.
The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.
You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.
“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.
“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.
“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.
“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.
“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”
“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.
“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”
You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.
When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.
You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.
The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.
In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.
You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.
Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.
Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.
“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“
“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.
“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.
“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.
“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.
“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.
“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.
“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.
“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.
“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.
“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.
“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.
You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.
As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.
“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.
“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”
“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”
He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.
“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”
“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”
“What did he do this time?”
“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.
“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”
“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”
Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.
“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.
“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”
“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”
“Shoot it.”
“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”
“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.
“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”
“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.
“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.
“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”
An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.
“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.
“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.
“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.
“You’re a fan?”
“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.
“You need to perform it for me.”
“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”
“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”
“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.
You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.
Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx
Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.
“You alright?” Harry softly asks.
“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.
“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”
“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”
From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.
“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”
Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.
“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”
He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.
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“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”
The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.
“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”
“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.
“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.
When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.
“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”
He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.
You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.
Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.
“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.
“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”
“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.
“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.
“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“
You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.
His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.
Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.
Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.
“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.
“Kind of.”
“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”
“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.
“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?
You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.
It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.
Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.
It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.
Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.
Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.
“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.
“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”
“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.
“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”
“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”
“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.
By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.
Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.
“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”
The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.
On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?
Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.
Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.
Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.
Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.
At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.
Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.
“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you want to come over to my place?”
“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.
When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.
Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.
“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.
It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.
He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.
“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.
“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.
“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.
“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.
Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.
Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.
When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.
“Harry, I…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.
“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”
Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.
“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.
“Yes.”
“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.
You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.
Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.
He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.
With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.
Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.
“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.
“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.
“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.
Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.
“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.
“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.
Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.
“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.
You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.
“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.
He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.
Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.
“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.
Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.
Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.
With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.
“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.
“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.
He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.
“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”
“Are you still friends with them?”
“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”
A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.
“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.
“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.”
“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.
“You like me?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”
“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.
“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.
“You can stay, but you have to behave.”
“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.
You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.
“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.
“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.
“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.
“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.
Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.
“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.
“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.
“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.
“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”
“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”
“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.
“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.
Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.
Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.
Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.
Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?
He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.
Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?
Harry: Is that even a question?!
“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.
“Huh?”
“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”
“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.
“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”
“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.
“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.
“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”
“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”
“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”
“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“
“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.
“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”
“I know,” you chuckle.
“How was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”
“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”
“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”
“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.
“How is the song writing going?”
“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”
“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.
Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.
Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.
Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.
“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.
“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.
“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”
Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.
“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.
“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”
“Always.”
“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”
Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.
“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”
“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”
“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.
“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.
“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.
The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.
“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”
“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.
“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.
“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.
“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.
You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.
“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”
“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.
His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.
“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.
The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.
Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.
“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.
“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”
“I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”
You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.
“Harry! Please!”
“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.
You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.
He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.
“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Mm, good idea.”
Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.
Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.
“About what you said about your parents.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”
“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”
You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.
“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.
“What… would you do if you were in my place?”
Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”
“And what if they don’t?”
“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”
“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.
“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.
Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.
“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.
“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.
Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.
Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.
She attached several articles and you start digging through them.
“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”
“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”
“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”
And then there’s the absolute worst.
“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.
Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.
The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.
You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”
“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.
“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.
An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.
Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.
“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.
“Again?”
“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”
“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”
“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?”
“It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.
“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”
“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”
“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”
“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”
“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”
“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”
“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”
“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.
“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”
“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”
“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.
“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”
“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”
You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.
“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”
He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.
“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.
“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“
“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.
He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.
The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.
The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.
Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.
On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.
You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.
“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”
“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.
“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”
“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”
“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”
“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.
“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”
And with that, you end the call.
Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.
As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.
“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.
“Halo?”
“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.
There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.
You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.
“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”
“Bad bitches have bad days too.”
“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”
“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”
“I told you I’m not doing it!”
“I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”
She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.
-
Hi Taylor!
I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.
I hope to see you soon, take care!
Harry
-
With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.
“He… pulled out for me.”
“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”
“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”
“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”
You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.
“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”
“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”
“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.
You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.
Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.
As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.
“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.
You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.
“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”
“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.
“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.
“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.
“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”
“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”
“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”
“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.
“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.
Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.
“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.
You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.
“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”
“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”
“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”
“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”
“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”
“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“I would love to, if you want me there.”
“I do,” you nod.
“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.
Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet
The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.
Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.
Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.
Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!
Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.
“Hey.”
Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”
“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.
“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”
Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.
You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.
“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.
You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.
“Hi mom, hi dad.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fiction#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reading#harry styles x y/n
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One thing im going to say about the connor thing is i wish he would just stop bringing up stans in random tweets because this always happens. Like if you really don't want them to interact with you please just stop talking about them.
oh fuckin absolutely like you cant jus shit on stans then Not expect them to go wild over there like. connor doesnt Need to pull in that Hate Views or kick a wasps nest to stay 'relevant' he shouldnt care bout that n its jus liike....... cmon dude
#being like 'haha stans dumb' doesnt do anything and its jus dumb as shit#inviting ppl to get pissy n do shit basically#anon#twitter beef
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We can take care of each other PART 3
Hank x reader x Connor
Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst
Previous chapter <-
PART 3
You awoke to Hanks phone ringing and him cursing it as he answered.
“What?” He grumbled as you heard a distant voice. You hadn’t moved from your spot on Connor. You yawned and rolled onto your back stretching.
“Did you sleep well detective?” He asked and you nodded dazed.
“Can’t Reed handle it the pricks there” Hank snapped.
“Yeah, whatever” he hung up and laid back down.
“Assholes” he muttered and you chuckled softly. He laid down with a soft thud from the mattress. You still cuddled into Connor he must’ve put his heaters on or something because you were toasty warm.
“Did you put your heaters on?” You asked.
“Is it too warm?” Connor asked and you shook your head.
“No, just making me not wanna move” you chuckled.
“Fine by me” Hank sighed as you heard Sumo bark.
“There isn’t enough room buddy” Hank said and you heard Sumo whine.
“Aw, Sumo” you sat up slowly crossing your legs and pet the bed lightly. He jumped up, in your face licking and making weird noises. You laughed trying to control the big beast as he finally laid down.
“What time is it?” You asked frowning.
“It’s currently 2:33 pm” Connor said.
“Geez” you said realising you had napped for a while.
“You were rather exhausted detective” Connor said and you flushed. You glanced to Hank who smirked almost proud and you glared slightly huffing. Hank was relaxed for once, a small smile on his lips, eyes closed as he leant against the head rest, his breathing even and his scent inviting. You leant back to lean against his side and he chuckled softly.
“My phone on your table?” You asked and he grunted handing it to you.
“Thanks” you said opening it. You had a few messages and emails but ignored them for now as you scrolled through social media. Connor sat up also, stiff in his movements and not relaxing back, you guess he didn’t need to relax back his body wouldn’t hurt. Hanks arm draped around your middle while Connor stared.
“What are you doing?” Hank asked.
“In a sense I’m making a memory” Connor said.
“I can record certain things and save them” he added.
“You show this to anyone-“ you elbowed him gently.
“Thank you detective” Connor smiled and you smirked.
“Great” Hank sighed.
“Two against the old grumpy alpha” he grumbled and you laughed. Connor cracked a grin, laughing wasn’t his strongest suit yet.
The day went on with you staying in Hanks bed. You had relaxed and calmed down after what had happened this morning, you were content in the soft blanket and leaning against Hank. Connor made you some food which was nice before sitting down again. It was going smoothly till your job demanded attention.
You all headed to the crime scene three stabbings in a club. Upon entering the room you gulped it was a private room on the sex side of the club. One android, two humans. The android was in the corner looking beat up and ruined by a bat or something, then stabbed, the two humans were on the other wall with stab wounds on their chest area. You got their identity’s, the android was called Kyla the humans were Mason and Fay. Kyla was designed as a sex robot and stayed that way voluntarily. The other two were also workers here Fay a beta and Mason an omega.
“What you got Connor?” Hank called as Connor stood by the door analysing.
“It was the android that went first, hit with the bat then stabbed on that wall, the other two tried to stop it, signs of struggle, possible fight before being stabbed themselves” Connor said as he walked to the android and looked over it.
“I can probe it’s memory to see what happened” he said.
“Go ahead” Hank said leaving the room to brief. You looked over the body’s again, there was a fight, something had gone very wrong or the killer just got his victims in one room perfectly.
“The android wasn’t supposed to be here” Connor spoke.
“How come?” You asked as he stood.
“The android came in to check on the suspicious noise before being dragged in and beaten to death” you sighed nodding, poor thing.
“Any traces where our killer went or who they are?” You asked.
“There are traces of DNA under the victims nails, matching a Gen Collins” you nodded.
“Send me her information” you said grabbing a spare tablet. You looked through her profile, 30, alpha female, she was tall and built like she was in military. You glanced through her past, she was in military, got kicked out for violent tendencies. She’s been prescribed by a doctor for anger management medication and therapy though she never took.
“We got one anger issued alpha on the run “ you sighed to Hank.
“Yep” he grumbled.
“We got any leads?” He asked as Connor came over.
“Not yet” Connor said and you and Hank nodded.
“Right come on” Hank said to you and Connor and you both followed.
Back at the station you all went through files hoping to find her whereabouts, she was no doubt dangerous and pissed about something.
You were at your desk for hours, it was nighttime when you decided to look outside. You stopped your task and leant back stretching. Your back popped slightly and you sighed hunching back over before sitting up. Connor came over to you and you gave him your attention.
“Are you alright detective?” He asked a slight frown on his face.
“I’m alright” you smiled.
“I need food and a shower though” you said yawning.
“I’ll drive you home” Hank said from his desk.
“You got anything?” You asked talking about the case.
“A whole lot of fuck all” he grumbled shutting down the screen and stretching.
“I need a drink” he grumbled making you chuckle.
“Home it is” you said shutting off your screen also and standing.
Hank dropped you off like he said, Connor following you in your house again while Hank drove off.
“He’ll be ok, won’t be?” You asked hanging your coat up.
“I do believe the Lieutenant has cut down on drinking, so, yes he will” Connor assured and you nodded. You shook your head laughing slightly as you took out a quick microwave meal.
You sat and ate happy to get some food in your stomach even if it tasted horrible. Connor sat and watched TV, well at least you think he was.
“I’m gonna have a shower” you called placing your rubbish in the bin.
“Ok” was all Connor said and you nodded.
You washed and dried before getting dressed into your PJ’s, Connor was still on the couch. You stood by him but he hadn’t taken notice.
“Connor?” You asked, he blinked and looked to you.
“Sorry detective” he said.
“It’s alright” you chuckled.
“You ok?” You asked.
“Yes, just going through some files is all, I apologise” you shook your head and sat by him.
“Don’t apologise” you smiled.
“Find anything?” You asked curiously.
“It wasn’t for the case” he admitted and you frowned curious.
“What was it for?” You asked head tilting.
“If you wanna tell me” you added. If you didn’t know any better you’d say the blue in his cheeks represented a blush.
“I am required to fulfill my roll in taking care of you and Hank both emotionally and physically” you flushed a little as he spoke.
“You don’t have to take care of us, we take care of each other” you said.
“It’s not all on you, I’m just not good with this” you sighed.
“It’s new to me and though Hank was-“ you flushed remembering what happened earlier.
“Eager, we’re gonna have some issues” you mumbled.
“What issues?” Connor asked frowning slightly.
“Well me, I overthink overthinking, Hank Is insecure even if he doesn’t admit it, I’m trying to please both you and Hank, Hanks the only one with experience!” you rambled a bit realising you hadn’t thought this through.
“And Hanks distant” you sighed sagging into the couch.
“Maybe it was a bad idea” you said sadly.
“Y/n” Connor said and you looked to him, he rarely said your name.
“This wasn’t a bad idea, this will take time to get used to and figure our mission out together” you smiled at him.
“Though I don’t understand many things I am willing to learn” he added.
“And try” he said another blue tint to his cheeks.
“May I kiss you detective?” He asked and you smiled as your heart pounded. You nodded and he leant forward, you closed your eyes as he pressed his synthetic lips to yours. It felt like real ones only smoother, you hummed softly leaning up body eager again. He pulled back eyes in a daze as you smiled slightly.
“I have to return to cyber life for some adjustments soon” he said and you frowned.
“Are you ok?” You asked worried.
“I’m ok, they’re going to add features to my body and system” you frowned.
“I’ll be better equipped like a male alpha” you flushed at his words and leant back into the seat avoiding his eyes.
“Oh” you stuttered out.
“When- when is this?” You asked.
“Tomorrow” you nodded embarrassed.
“How long will you be gone?” You asked.
“Only for the night” you nodded again.
“Ok” you said softly.
You frowned as your phone buzzed. You answered and frowned when you heard a familiar voice.
“Jimmy?” You questioned and he sighed confirming. Connor frowned also leaning in.
“Can you come get Hank please” you glanced to Connor at his words.
“Mans messed up again” your heart sank.
“Im on my way” you hung up.
You quickly got dressed sort of and drove to Jimmy’s. Connor followed you as you walked in spotting Hank in the corner slumped over.
“What happened?” You asked Jimmy.
“He got drunk started babbling on about you and Connor before breaking down and passing out” you processed and sighed.
“Thanks” you muttered going to him.
“Hank” you said as you slid into the booth next to him.
“Hank” you dragged out. He gurgled out a sound and you raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I should support him to the car” Connor said.
“Yep” you agreed getting out of the seat.
“Hank” Connor said and Hank grumbled. He helped the man up who groaned and grumbled eyes opening and closing. He finally focused on you, your arms were on your hips.
“Why’re you glaring at me?” He said like a child.
“We’re going home” you rolled your eyes handing Jimmy some money as a tip.
“I’m sorry” you said and he shrugged.
As you drove Hank home the man grumbled the whole way there. You unlocked your door before taking him to the bathroom.
“Hank” you said as Connor sat him down on the toilet. The alpha looked around taking in his surroundings before taking you and Connor in.
“Fuck” Hank toppled over and you jumped back a bit.
You looked away as he threw up in the toilet. You held down your stomach and sighed going to get him a drink while Connor watched him.
The toilet flushed and you went back in with a glass of water.
“Thanks” he mumbled sipping it. He leant back against the cold tiles as did you as you sat down staring at him.
“Stop staring” Hank sighed.
“Hank we’re concerned” Connor said.
“Well be unconcerned” he slurred.
“Hank” you sighed sadly.
“What?” He scoffed slightly.
“You’re not my mum” he chuckled at his joke.
“No I’m your partner” you said.
“That’s unfortunate for you” he smirked.
“Hank” Connor said almost in warning.
“Shut up tin can” Hank huffed.
“Look at you both sad faced over me, it’s depressing shit man” he sighed.
“You know you’re probably better off leaving me here and going off with Connor” although he was drunk his words hurt.
“Hank-“ you said startled.
“I mean the fuck you want me for? Disgusting old, alpha, pervert with a pretty omega and perfect robocop over here” you bit back tears.
“I can’t give you a family, can’t give you what you need” you felt a tear roll don your face as he continued.
“I don’t want a family I just want you two” you said taking a deep breath.
“Maybe you’re fucked in the head too” you flinched at his words and clenched your jaw, he was just drunk.
“The fucked amigos!” He cheered and you glared at the floor.
“Hank you’ve upset the detective and me” Connor said.
“Yeah? And?” You stood and quickly left at his words.
You curled up in your bed tears rolling down your face. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want the three of you to be together, your alpha didn’t want you or Connor. You hugged your pillow tightly before a light knock came.
“Detective” it was Connor who called.
You didn’t answer so he let himself in.
“I’ve let the Lieutenant rest on your pull out couch, he’s unconscious I’m afraid” you sniffled and nodded.
“He’s just drunk” he muttered.
“Is he?” You turned to face him. Connor couldn’t answer.
“He doesn’t want me or you! Or us! Maybe I am fucked in the head, we’re all fucked in the head” you cried.
“I’m stupid for ever dreaming” you laid down again, back to Connor as you cried. Your mind was going wild you couldn’t handle the rejection he had just said. You tried to reason but there wasn’t anything to reason with.
The bed shifted but you didn’t move as Connor laid behind you. He slipped his arm under your head and another around your waist. You clutched your pillow tightly and cried softly.
Your tears dried and stuck to your face, your eyes were droopy as you tried to stay awake.
“Sleep” you heard Connor mutter as he pulled the blanket over you both. Your eyes closed and you sighed letting darkness take over.
Next chapter ->
#x reader#Hank x reader x Connor#hankcon#Hank x reader#Connor x reader#abo#DBH#detroit become human#poly
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Aim for the nose : )
It’s more sensitive than the other parts of the face
KICKS: "OUTTA THE WAY BITCH!"
CONNOR: "Hey OI-"
Connor is then shoved to the ground via hand to face force and lands flat on his ass! You gotta admit, landing right on the ass has got to hurt.
KICKS: "HEY. PUMPKIN."
Pumpkin has basically blocked the noise of battle out of their ears. Because well. It's right there. His plushie is right there. His lion plushie. He can grab it and get out of here and be done with it and he can.
He can properly show Connor the plushie! And the necklace! And his mother won't have to be sad over having things stolen from him and he won't disappoint dad by losing his handmade gifts!
And he...
He gets yanked backwards by an aggressive hand in his hair.
PUMPKIN: "NO! PLEASE!"
Connor stares while sitting down from being shoved over.
PUMPKIN: "PLEASE NO GO AWAY! LET ME HAVE MY THINGS! THEY'RE FROM MOM N DAD LET ME HAVE MY STUFF! YOU FUCKING STUPID DRUG LOVING ASSHOLE!"
KICKS: "NO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO? YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO LITTLE RETARD. SHUT THE FUCK UP AT LET ME GET SOME EASY CASH. NOBODY'LL FUCKIN MISS YOU."
It seems that your advice reached the wrong person anon.
Because as Kick's fist collided with Pumpkin's face, there was a sickening crunch.
KICKS: "YEAH FUCKING ENJOY THAT LITTLE FAG BOY! LITTLE BITCH! LIKE HOW TASTY THAT PUNCH WAS? ENJOY BEING A LITTLE FUCKIN PAPAS BOY N MAMAS BOY?"
KICKS: "FUCK YOU LITTLE PUSSY. FUCK YOU N FUCK WHATEVER EGO RIDDEN BITCH OF A HIGH HORSE YOU RODE IN ON EY! FUCK YOU N FUCK YA PAL! YAINT GETTIN SHIT. THIS SHITS GOT REALS EXPENSIVE SHIT. IM GONNA GET RICH AND HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO GET THE FOUCK OUTTA HERE EY!"
While Kicks is screaming, something else is screaming.
' That crunch. That's a broken nose. Your friend broke their nose because you egged them on to do this. You wanted them to prove something so they could feel good about themselves but look at what you've done. This is your fault. This is your fault Connor. '
' This is your fault, now fix it. '
Suddenly, all the human turned Chimchar could fathom was red. The emotion... no nothing he could feel could properly describe it better than the vibrant vivid colour of red.
#hostile-heros#content warning#cw swearing#cw slurs#tw#tw r slur#tw c slur#tw violence#cw violence#connor#connor chimchar#connor the chimchar#chimchar#pumpkin#pumpkin shinx#pumpkin the shinx#shinx#kicks#kicks minun#kicks the minun#minun#cw f slur#f slur#blood#blood nose#broken nose#traumamonkeystorytag
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Apocalypse!AU -- Field Medicine
I 100% could write the events leading prior to this to satiate curiosity, but rn this is all my inspiration is giving me -- hope you like enjoy it! If you want more of this AU, pls let me know!
Feedback is always appreciated!
Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood mention, field surgery
Tagging (if you wanna be tagged, lmk!): @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh (idk why this isn’t tagging im so sorry) // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @britishhotassassin
Assassin’s Creed Mobile Masterlist
Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist
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“Get down!”
You ducked for cover as a pipe bomb was thrown towards your group.
Jacob, Connor, Altair, and you were hunting for supplies in a nearby town when you were ambushed by a group of hunters. They outnumbered you by about five to one.
“Altair! What do we do?!” Jacob peeked over to fire a few aimed shots.
You all looked over to the leader in question, who was catching his breath behind an old car. You could see the gears turning in his head before he came to a final conclusion.
“Run.” Another pipe bomb went off. “Run!”
He led the way to an abandoned shop building that could provide cover, Connor following closely behind with you and Jacob bringing up the rear. Feeling the bullies soar past your head, you ducked as Jacob tripped. You stopped to help him up. “Go!” He waved you off, shakily getting to his feet.
You vaulted through what was once a window pane and ducked, Jacob clumsily following suit. He landed on his side with a groan. “Hey, are you okay?” You asked, pulling him back against the bricks. Once he settled, you could see his hand clutching his side. What made your heart palpitate was what he was covering.
Blood.
“Shit! You’ve been shot!” You turned to Altair, who paused firing and stared.
“What?!”
“I’ll be fine.” Jacob rested his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths.
“What are our options?” Connor asked, looking through his rucksack.
A flurry of gunshots flew above your heads.
“Option 1: We leave him and escape ourselves.”
You scoffed at Altair’s suggestion. “Don’t even think about that.”
“I know! Look— we either try and make a run for it now or we split up and hide; one of us with Jacob while the other two pick them all off.”
You all exchanged glances. “That could work.”
Jacob shifted and hissed.
You wrapped his arm around your neck. “I’ll take him upstairs. Keep them off our backs and don’t get shot.”
The two nodded. Connor passed you a first aid kit and some alcohol. “You know what to do.”
Smiling reassuringly, you motioned for them to get moving. The two of them ran across the street, drawing fire until they were safely across the street. The firing stopped.
“They split up. Find them. Preferably in one piece, but I can settle for one.” The voice obviously belonged to the one in charge. “The girl. She’ll be the easiest.”
You and Jacob exchanged glances. “Come on,” you whispered, half dragging him up the stairs. You entered the room at the end of the hall and locked the door behind you. Luckily, the windows were boarded up, so they didn’t see you go in. Unluckily, the windows were boarded up, so there was no escape without making noise.
The room wasn’t big nor small; but it had a walk in wardrobe that was big enough for now. You set Jacob down gently, kneeling next to him by the side of the wound. Taking a breath, you took in his complexion; sweating, pale, panting. You looked down to see his hand almost drenched in the crimson liquid, which has been dripping a subtle trail after the two of you. “Shit!” You half whispered, taking out the first aid kit and alcohol. Pushing up his shirt, you offered a roll of bandages to his lips to bite down on. He accepted, albeit weakly. “This will hurt, but you have to stay quiet, okay?” He hummed a broken affirmation, grabbing your free arm, assumingly for moral support. “On three; one, two, three…” slowly, you poured the liquid over the wound. Pained gasps leaked through the bandages as his jaw clenched tightly, tension flooding down his neck.”I’m sorry!” You apologised as his grip on your arm tightened tenfold. Opening the first aid kit, you immediately went for gauze to pack the wound with.
“You have to take it out.”
You turned to meet his eyes as he held the bandages in his other hand. “Please,” her continued. “I can feel it moving inside of me.”
“But I’m not a surgeon! I can bandage a wound but I’m nowhere near transplant surgery.”
“I’m not asking you for a transplant.” He pulled out some tweezers from the kit. “I’m asking you to remove a bullet.”
You sighed, reluctantly taking them. “I was shit at Operation, you know.”
“Now’s your chance to practice.” He balled up the bandages and bit down on them again, bracing himself for the intrusion of the tweezers.
“Ah, fuck.” Slowly, you pressed them inside the wound, trying to ignore the hitched breaths beside you. Instead, you focused on touch, waiting to feel the contact with the metal ball waiting for you inside. It took a few moments, but finding it gave you the equivalent feeling of striking gold. “I got it. Holy shit, I got it.” As you pulled it free of Jacob’s flesh, you could see his muscles relax, along with a fresh flow of blood. Quickly, you packed it to try and stem the bleeding, evoking another gasp. “I’m so sorry.”
He pulled out the bandages, chucking them back to the kit. “Had to be done.”
You turned your head back to the first aid kit, eyes wandering for a needle and sutures when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jacob swallowed, ears picking up on the calculated thumps as well. “Please be the guys, please be the guys…”
“Check all the rooms. Don’t miss anything.”
“Shit!”
Instead of stitches, you grabbed some surgical tape.”We’ll have to finish this later.” The words barely escaped as you spoke, practically mouthing them in an effort to stay quiet. You taped the gauze to his side, heart rate increasing as the sounds began to increase in volume; they were getting closer.
You packed everything away and straddled Jacob to peer past the wall at the locked door, gun in hand. You cocked it ever so quietly, aiming it square in the centre. Jacob’s blood soaked hand took your chin gently, a complete juxtaposition to the image in front of you. “Hey,” he said. “We’ll come out of this just fine.”
You wanted to believe him. You really did.
The door handle began to shake. “Fuck, I hope so.”
You’ve never been this scared in your entire life.
Someone kicked at the door and you flinched. Hands shaking, you tried to steel yourself with a deep breath. Pulling the hammer down, you waited as a boot came down two, three, four times. The fifth time actually working took you off guard. Two figures stormed in, and you shot multiple times as they crossed the short distance. The gun was kicked out of your hand and you were thrown off of Jacob to the middle of the room. You blinked as your back hit the floor, hands coming up as a figure landed on you, a hand wrapping around your throat. A man of at least six feet with muscles as wide as your head had you pinned to the floor easily. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his wrist.
“Not so fast.” The other figure spoke, and a second later had thrown Jacob into view, a sharp quick to his injured side. He let out a pained noise, bringing a knee up to protect himself. “This one’s in bad shape; wonder if he’s worth it.” A gun was aimed at his head.
Your eyes widened.”No!” You tried to claw the man’s hand off of you. “Please don’t.”
He let out a laugh. “Oh, he’s worth it, alright.” Pulling handcuffs out of his back pocket, he threw a pair to his partner. He squeezed your neck tightly, attracting your hands. He quickly slapped a cuff onto one of your wrists. “Turn around.”
You glared defiantly.
“Turn around, or he dies.”
Your eyes flicked between your attacker and Jacob, who couldn’t put up much of a fight in his half lucid state; restraining him took almost no effort at all, and now he had a gun pointed at his brain.
You gave in, not turning around but allowing him to move you into his desired position to bind your hands behind your back. He leaned into your ear. “When we get back, you’ll be worrying about more than a bullet wound.”
He pulled you up harshly by the arms. Simultaneously, two gunshots went off. You lost your balance, falling onto your knees. Looking over the bed, you saw Connor and Altair aiming their guns. “Took you long enough!” All tension dissipated from your body, and you almost collapsed. Altair searched the body for the keys.
“Jacob?” Connor’s voice sounded from behind you.
“Is he okay?” You had your back to him, but Altair kept you straight.
“Two seconds.” When you felt the cuffs fall off your wrists, you immediately went to Jacob.
Connor had uncuffed him, but he was still unmoving. “Help me turn him over.” Once on his back, Jacob gasped.
“Great timing,” he quipped sarcastically.
“Alright, we get it.” Altair pushed Jacob’s shirt up to see the entire square of gauze a dark red.
“Did you stitch him?” He asked calmly, motioning for the first aid kit.
“We got a little preoccupied.” You couldn’t help but feel guilt over Jacob’s deteriorating condition. You passed him the kit from your bag.
Altair took it and got to work, as if he’d done this a million times before.
“What about the bullet?”
“I took it out.”
Altair sighed. “That was meant to stay in, Jacob.”
At this point, all Jacob could do was smile; vague but smug.
“Altair, how do you know all this?”
He didn’t take his eyes off of Jacob as he spoke. “I used to be in the military.” Noticing Jacob had closed his eyes, he snapped his fingers next to his face. Swallowing, Jacob blinked. “Keep him awake, Connor.” He began to suture. “I-uh, a friend of mine died from an injury in the field. It was my fault. He bled out because I never learned how to stitch a fucking wound. I spent hours afterward learning how to deal with field injuries— I wouldn’t let anyone die on me again.”
He wiped the now closed wound with more gauze, and quirked his lips when he saw that no new blood appeared. He covered the wound with more gauze and taped it down to his skin. “And here I thought you hated me.” Jacob chuckled weakly, trying to sit up.
“No.” Altair pressed his hand against his chest. Instead, he offered a flask of water. “Drink this.”
Jacob didn’t question anything, doing what the expert told him.
“We stay here until he recovers some strength. We won’t be able to carry him back to camp.”
“Are you sure it’s safe here? What if more of their group come and see the massacre?”
“With any luck, they’ll assume that we’re long gone.”
“Okay.” You sat down, pulling Jacob’s head gently into your lap. “Time to get comfy.”
#assassin's creed#assassin's creed x reader#altair ibn la’ahad#connor kenway#ratonhnhaké:ton#jacob frye#altair ibn la’ahad x reader#connor kenway x reader#jacob frye x reader#apocalypse!au#ficlet#comments are gold nuggets#assassin’s creed x f!reader#altair ibn la ahad x f!reader#connor kenway x f!reader#jacob frye x f!reader
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dSMP but make it a TV show
*kicks down door*
HEY! I think it would be cool if dSMP was made into a TV show. Obviously this won’t happen I just think it’d be neat. And I have Ideas, too.
First of all it would be animated because it would suck as live-action. Second of all each episode would be 40mins-1hour long and there would be ten episodes per season. The minecraft stuff would have to be re-worked but it totally fits into a more fantasy-type setting with some modern elements. The potential world-building is actually kinda fun (for example, maybe some characters come from a distant city where technology is more advanced, and act accordingly?) the potential is endless lol.
Anyway I came up with a list of episodes and what happens in each one so buckle up buckaroo! We’re going on a journey!
Season 1:
The Disc War Part 1 (intro to characters, basic plot, tommy & tubbo vs dream team, and the discs)
The Disc War Part 2 (end of the disc war, into to some minor characters? the badlands etc etc)
Wilbur (flashbacks of sbi home yes ik its not canon fuck u, the pet war, wilbur shows up at the end)
L'Manburg (the story of this bitchass country)
The War Of Independence (you know, the duel, the discs, etc etc)
The Election (campaign trails, jschlatt (flashbacks of water/lava rising? maybe jschlatt big city schlatt & co backstory??? CONNOR??????) ends with the exile moment TM)
Pogtopia (you know, also tensions rise back in Manburg, techno arrives, ends with 'I want to be your vassal')
The Festival (the tensions, theyre rising, badlands dont pick sides, white house content please and thank you)
Loyalties (quackity joins pogtopia, fundy and niki too, ends with eret being dethroned)
The Finale (big battle, you know, death, then connor, puffy, and ranboo get introduced at the end maybe during quackity’s speech which everyone sleeps on and no im not bitter)
Season 2:
Rebuilding (literally rebuilding, tubbo president, PHIL SNEAKING AROUND and being sad cause uh he killed his son, ghostbur, schlatt’s funeral, tommy and ranboo steal from george at the end)
Bloodvines (the egg uwu, dream being a bitch, but also tommy and tubbo exile you know the drill)
Desolate (tommy in exile, fundy adoption arc, ghostbur my beloved)
No Hope (more tommy in exile, ranboo my beloved, phil and techno wholesome moments TM, quackity fundy and tubbo prepare the butcher army)
The Prison (the prison is introduced, tommy still all alone, tubbo struggles with responsibility, more egg stuff)
New Ally (techno gets got by the butcher army, tommy does his thing and runs away to techno, i imagine the two events happening at the same time, perhaps shown with cross-cutting the scenes (eg as the anvil falls, so does tommy?))
Breaking & Entering (techno and tommy cause chaos TM, dream is a bitch, more egg stuff)
Betrayal (tommy and techno end of friendship sadface, RANBOO, sad ghostbur, perhaps introduce foolish and his relation to puffy here, ends with ranboo’s meltdown?)
Destruction (kaboom yknow, explosion time, boom, more ranboo smile, ghostbur ressurection attempts yoooo glatt, more egg shit)
The Discs (the discs!! ‘what am i without you’ ‘yourself’, ends on a hopefull note w/ ghost wilbur or whatever)
Thanks have a nice day
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