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gucciwins · 8 months

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don't know where we're going

Harry invites Y/N on tour as his opening artist...he wasn't expecting to fall in love

Word count: 26,709

A/N: hola mis amores 💜 here is this new story for you. it might have been a long time but I promise I will always come back. come talk to me about the new story

Warnings: smut (female pleasure)

Love on Tour had come to an end. The final show was here tonight in Italy, and Y/N was excited. Her band had shared they couldn’t sleep or eat from their nerves, but Y/N felt at ease. She had always felt at home on stage. Tonight would be no different.

When Y/N’s mother realized her daughter loved to sing, she put on even more musicals for her to watch and sing along to. Y/N’s mother, Reina, never got tired of her daughter’s voice, and with her encouragement, Y/N began to play in bars, anywhere that would give her the time and space. A producer one day approached her after doing two songs in a coffee shop, telling her she had a chance to make it. He handed her a card and made her promise she’d call. She almost didn’t.

Her mother gave her the courage to call, and her life changed. They got her time in the studio, where she got to present her ideas and songs. The team supported her, and from then on, Y/N Y/LN became a person to be on the lookout for. She had writing sessions with Julia Michaels that allowed her to learn that not only did she have the liberty to write everything she felt but that with experience comes inspiration. As she began to record, she knew she had to think about the future of a tour. Not soon after, she met her guitarist Felix at a sports bar, where they bonded over their mutual love for Formula One. Felix introduced her to June, who became her drummer, and their bassist is Quinn, June’s brother.

The venues Y/N had booked out always surprised her because, despite its small capacity, every show was always sold out. Her first single blew through the charts; it got her name out there. Her first tour around the UK was a success and allowed her to begin playing festivals. Y/N was happy with how her life turned out and had no idea it could improve.

Y/N loved her job. She loved being on stage and connecting with fans. She loved touring with her favorite people. She lived a comfortable life doing what she loved. Y/N had a large fanbase, not popstar sensation fame, but it’s not what she was searching for. It was why she had to think about her answer when she found out the biggest pop star of her generation wanted her to open up for his final leg in Europe. It didn’t make sense because Y/N clearly knew about Harry Styles. She didn’t know he knew about her.

He’s a big fan.

Zane Lowe played him a song, and he was hooked.

Harry saw you play one night and has followed you ever since.

The exposure would be good for you.

Harry would like to meet with you before you make a choice.

The choice was clear for everyone but Y/N. She had never met the man, and while the pay would be incredible, she wasn’t willing to go on tour with someone she did not get on with. The meeting with Harry turns out to be a success. He comes in full of smiles, a bit bashful when his manager points out how big a fan he is. Harry doesn’t deny it; it makes her trust him because he’s genuinely a fan of her music, and she admires that. Y/N returns the compliment, stating that she learned to play “Fine Line” on the piano because it was her favorite. Her manager Zahra shared that she cried when she first heard it because she wished she had written the song. Harry blushed at the compliment while Y/N tried to brush past it. Thankfully, Harry was polite and thanked her. While everyone got to work on paperwork, it gave Y/N a moment to speak with Harry alone. Y/N started the conversation because Harry sat there quietly, simply enjoying observing her.

“Thank you for the opportunity. My band and I are excited,” she expressed.

Harry grins, “thank you for agreeing.”

“I hear stadiums are what you’ll likely be sticking to.”

“Scared,” he teased.

Y/N shrugs, “I never imagined singing in front of that capacity if I’m honest. I think it’s easier because no one will be there for me.”

“I will be. Will watch every night,” he promises.

Y/N waves him off, “wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“Didn’t think you were. I hope we share the stage one day, maybe sing a song together.”

“If we make it to the end of this, you can come out during my set,” she teases.

“It would be my honor.”

That was the start of Harry and Y/N’s friendship.

Y/N loved playing dress up. On stage, she got to wear whatever she wanted. It’s a big reason she enjoyed seeing what Harry would pick each night. Y/N loved spinning, and the perfect accessory to do so was a skirt, specifically a mini skirt. She remembers thrifting in a little shop in Dublin, where she found the perfect pink mini, and from there, it became part of who she was. From baby tees to oversized cargo pants to skirts, the one constant was the platforms that always gave her that extra height.

Y/N knew she had to honor her mother each night she was on stage, and because the earliest memory Y/N has is sitting in front of the mirror as her mother tied ribbons and bows in her hair, she made it a tradition to keep them in. Y/N swore she had one that fit all of her outfits, and if it didn’t, she didn’t mind getting her scissors and cutting up a bit of clothing.

She is now a few shows in and is having the time of her life. Y/N gets to play her music every night and enjoys seeing Harry perform. Then, she ends each night by discussing her favorite parts with Harry. Y/N doesn’t remember how it happened, but Y/N doesn’t go to sleep unless she has spoken to Harry; by now, it’s part of her routine. The friendship she is building with him makes her feel at ease on stage each night. One night, they talked about their inspiration, and Y/N told him she was inspired by all around her. From her friends to movies to even books she has read. She wrote “Another Love” based on Gus and January, a couple from a book she read. It’s easy to be inspired because she lets every bit of emotion change her.

“Your music is sad,” Harry tells her one night.

Y/N frowns, “excuse me.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I’m leaving,” she goes to stand up, but he stops her by holding onto her wrist.

“Hear me out,” he pleads. She settles deeper into her seat. “I enjoy it. I think it’s the best music I have ever heard, and it’s so sad because it’s your real emotions and reactions. You’re putting your heart out there; sometimes the sadness wins out.”

Y/N knows he’s right, but that doesn’t mean she has to say that. “Well, you’re always horny.”

Harry burst out laughing, “fair.”

“I’d never sing about watermelons with you,” she fakes disgust.

Harry’s interest has now peaked. “What would you sing?”

“Fine line, but not with you. I’d add it to my setlist if I was on tour now.”

Harry didn’t know she really loved a song like that. “That’s–wow. Thank you.”

“Realistically, I’d do Daylight. She's a bop.”

Y/N laughs when she sees Harry nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he promises.

At the following show, Y/N kept thinking back to what Harry said about how her music carries a sadness. She doesn’t mean to, but it’s the type of melodies that soothe her. It’s clear from the fanbase she has created that her fans also like it.

“Mr. Styles says I have sad music as if he didn’t write Matilda,” she teases. “Kidding, we all know Cherry is his saddest song. While some songs are sad, you can still dance to them, so this is “Sorry.” Please sing if you know it. If not, that’s okay too.”

Harry greets her when she walks off stage. “Did you enjoy that, boss man?” Y/N’s running on a high; all she wants to do is spend time with Harry, but he has to get ready.

“You’re my favorite part of every show,” he tells her genuinely.

Y/N feels her face heat up, but she knows where this could head and decides to stay clear. She pats his shoulder and walks away. “Good luck, Harry,” she calls out as she turns the corner, leaving Harry standing alone, wondering how he’d work up the courage to ask Y/N out.

Another day, another show. Except today, Y/N saw a familiar face and had to bring it up.

“I’ve seen you before. You look very pretty.” Y/N compliments the fan with a black baby tee with bedazzled cherries and glitter pants. “You’re coming to the shows because of me,” Y/N repeated, shocked. “But it’s the Harry Styles show!” Y/N leans closer, listening to the fan share that she’s their favorite artist. The fan had traveled from Iceland to be here tonight because it’s the only place she managed to get tickets. Then, she decided to try attending as many shows as possible before returning home. Y/N felt so much gratitude, making her want to hug this person. While Y/N couldn’t jump down, she thought of the next best thing. “Do you want to sing this one with me? Can we do that?” Y/N looks side-stage at her tour manager, and she’s shaking her head in disappointment, but no one is stopping her. “Come on up.” The fan is helped over the barricade and guided upstairs to meet her. Y/N hugs the fan tightly, thanking her for everything, and Y/N tells her she hopes to see her in the crowd again. “Everyone, this is Sasha! She’s part of the band tonight. Now, Sasha, do you know ‘The Band and I,’” Y/N checks.

“Word for word,” Sasha assures her.

“Wonderful, you’re all in for a treat. Hit it, Junie!” Y/N shouts.

Walking off the stage that night, Y/N is flying on a high. She smiles with the band; she sees Harry leaning against a wall with a smirk. “Breaking all the rules, huh, almost gave Jeff a heart attack.”

Y/N grimaces, “am I in trouble?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “I enjoyed it, and I'm the boss. So no.”

She sighs in relief, “I-I just felt grateful. This is your tour,” she emphasizes. “And for the fan to enjoy my music and know the lyrics to a song I wrote, which I haven’t officially released yet, overwhelmed me. Playing in front of an audience has always been my dream, but having my lyrics sung back to me is not something I ever let myself imagine.”

Harry smiles, and she knows he understands. He doesn’t have to say a word. His eyes say it all for her. Y/N is thankful she joined this tour, and while she admires Harry, she knows she can’t forget to keep her boundaries up because she knows they will only begin to fall with time.

It was early March when Harry changed their relationship. Y/N enjoyed time with her band, but sometimes she needed to be alone. She used the time to write or simply enjoy the silence, even for a few minutes. Harry offered her a private space where he kept his piano. He traveled everywhere with it, and while Y/N thought it was a hassle, she was grateful because it allowed her to play with melodies she had stuck in her head.

Today was no different. She had spent an hour alone when Harry walked in on her, seemingly just as lost in his head. He was startled when he looked up and found her sitting in an old hoodie of her first merch ever created.

“Cute,” he comments.

Y/N shrugs, “I know you want one.”

“Desperately.”

She doesn’t know if he’s continuing the bit but decides she will have her mother bring one to her at Wembley for him. It would be her home show, so her mother would be in attendance.

“Anything new?” He gestures to the piano and her open notebook. Y/N hands it to him, allowing him to have a look inside. There are more music notes than there are lyrics. She has the perfect melody, but words seem hard to find right now. “Care to play it for me?”

Y/N loves that he always asks. They both know how private the writing process can be, but with Harry, it’s clear they have built a level of trust. Y/N starts slow on the keys before building up until, by the end reaches the slow start. Harry grins at her, and Y/N can see he likes it. She knows he plays the piano, but she’s never had the chance to watch him play; he’s more reserved compared to her. It’s not something she minds. It just means they both have boundaries they won’t cross and respects that.

“It was beautiful,” he tells her after a few seconds. She thanks him softly, shutting her notebook and knows she has to head out to get ready.

“Y/N, I-I really like having you on tour.”

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s truly an amazing environment to work in. Even if you do need a few more ladies in your crew.”

Harry laughs but agrees. He knows she speaks from experience where most of his technicians are men. Y/N has a more diverse crew. It is an industry that works to break down women. It's nice to see how she always lifts everyone up. He didn’t realize how, over time, his feelings grew for Y/N. He went from seeing her every few days to speaking to her every night before bed. She brings him a comfort he did not know he was missing. Y/N had become the best part of his day, from watching her perform on stage to their nightly talks. He wanted to spend all his free time with her, so he chose to be honest with her about his feelings.

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” Harry asked softly.

Y/N turned to him, a gentle smile on her face that helped calm his nerves the tiniest bit. He was worried it would not go his way because there were times he gave her a compliment, and she always brushed it away. He always greeted her with a hug, but she always turned it into a one-second side hug. He didn’t know if that was because he made her nervous or she simply didn’t like hugs, although he’d seen her hug her bandmates. Heck, he’s seen them all squished on a couch together.

Harry takes a deep breath; he wants to look away from her, her gaze making him nervous, but the comfort he finds in her gorgeous orbs allows him to push forward. “I-I like you, Y/N.”

Y/N thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She did not expect a confession of this kind from Harry. It leaves her frozen for a second because while Y/N reciprocates those feelings, she’s not at liberty to act on them, not when working on the largest tour of her life. Y/N doesn’t care what people think. It’s a big reason she doesn’t look at tabloids or use her social media accounts, but this–thinking of pursuing a relationship with Harry is not something she can allow herself to give in.

“You’re sweet, Harry. I think you’re great too.”

Harry grimaces because he realizes she doesn’t understand what he is saying. Before he can explain what he means, June, Y/N’s drummer, rushes in, telling her Felix was having an issue and it was bad. Y/N patted his shoulder and excused herself.

Well, it went nothing like he expected. Harry held out for her to say she felt the same, but she clearly didn’t. Harry knows many would tell him to move on, but he knows Y/N is special. While he wouldn’t pursue her, he knew he still wanted her in his life.

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, after Harry’s confession, there has been an awkwardness in their conversations. It’s been too much because they no longer spend time alone. Y/N decided to treat their relationship the same, but when she went to his room that night, she found Mitch with him. Y/N knew that she messed up. She also knew she was being selfish by wanting to keep it all the same when he had put himself out there only for her to brush him off.

A few shows go by, and Y/N feels better because Harry still seeks her out to have lunch together. He invites her to join his workouts, which she regrets because Brad is honestly insane. Brad had promised to make a routine that best fit her needs. Harry did not change much; he kept flirting, offering her compliments and daily hugs. A rush went through her each night, knowing he was watching her.

Tonight was no different. He offered her a short hug, and off she went to play to his fans. Y/N felt off from the moment she got on stage but had no idea why. Quinn stepped close, wanting to know if she was feeling okay, but Y/N couldn’t describe it other than a pit in her stomach. It was as if she sensed something was coming. Y/N promised she was fine and pushed through.

Halfway through the set, Y/N looked over and saw Harry staring at her with a fond smile. Y/N didn’t want to look away but had a show to play. Her feelings were winning, and Y/N knew she wouldn’t care about the aftermath if she decided to date Harry. She wanted to bask in the feeling of liking him and hopefully loving him one day. So, she decided to do something different to let him know she was ready to have that conversation.

“Right, this is a little different tonight. I-I have a friend who loves this song, and we haven’t played it in some time, but I thought they might enjoy it and hopefully you as well. This is ‘Crystal Clear.’”

This song is one she wrote when she was wishing for a happy future with a partner who loves and respects her, showing them that she won’t give in to her fears and wants to be together. It was one of Quinn’s favorites to play, but all collectively agreed it didn’t fit the setlist. Y/N knew she’d get endless questions for adding it so suddenly, but she’d deal with that after speaking with Harry. They played a few more songs, and once she gave her final bow, she hurried off stage. Y/N expected to find Harry waiting for her there but instead ran into Mitch, who looked at her, startled.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N asked impatiently.

“Piano room, but–”

She hurried down the hall, ignoring Mitch, who tried telling her to stop. She didn’t realize he was following her down.

“Y/N don’t–” She walks into the piano room even as Mitch tries to stop her to find Harry hugging a woman. Y/N knew it wasn’t a friend because the grip the woman had on Harry was one of possession. Harry was looking at her, but his face was hard to read. It was as if all the walls she had broken down were now standing higher and stronger. Y/N didn’t move her eyes away from him; her eyes landed on his swollen lips. It’s clear she interrupted a private moment. Y/N grimaces because she knows she would never be able to think about this piano without the tainted memory of Harry wrapped in the arms of another.

“I’m sorry,” she sends them a grim look and walks out, closing the door behind her. She finds Mitch and Sarah staring at her, unsure what to do; they must be aware of the situation between her and Harry.

“Is that his…” She couldn’t even say the word.

Sarah frowned, “she’s uh kind of friend.”

Y/N didn’t need to hear anymore. Sure, Harry said he liked her, but when she didn’t give him the answer he wanted, what did she want him to do, beg and make her open her eyes. No, she needed to figure it out on her own, and now that she did, it was too late.

It’s not like she had a reason to be jealous. She never told Harry she liked him. All she did was pat his shoulder and move on like nothing had ever been said. Y/N bid Mitch and Sarah good luck for the night and walked to her green room. Y/N’s tears began to fall as soon as the door closed behind her. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Nothing was going on between them, yet why did she feel like nothing would be the same anymore. Maybe it was hurting because he had promised to watch her set each night, and she sang a different song tonight because he had said it was his favorite. Y/N knew she wasn’t being fair, sending him mixed signals, but Y/N didn’t deserve to feel this either. It made her feel as if his feelings weren’t even real. She was blinded by her tears to notice June was on the couch, book in hand, but was thankful she was there because she got to break down in the comfort of arms she was familiar with.

Y/N wasn’t okay, but she would be. It was only a crush.

Y/N could not sleep that night. She tossed and turned until she gave up and decided to go to her balcony to watch the sunrise. Time moved slowly, and it allowed her to regroup. By eight o’clock, she was all packed up and waiting in the lobby. Y/N rode to the airport with her friends, where they would all get on separate flights and reunite in May for rehearsals and more love on tour. Y/N was ready to go home and enjoy a home-cooked meal with her mother. She had said goodbye to everyone except for one person. He was quieter today; it allowed him to blend in. Harry had a “Damn” sweater on, the hood up, and a claw clip in the jumper's pocket. Y/N starts walking his way before she can change her mind.

“Harry,” she calls out softly.

He looks up, offering her the tiniest smile. “Y/N.”

“Have a good break.” She offers awkwardly.

He nods. They make no move, and Y/N knows they have no idea where they stand, but Y/N would never start something if Harry had someone else, so she knew she had to come back from the break clear-headed and with these feelings gone and, if not at least tucked away.

Y/N opened her arms and shrugged, telling him it was up to him. Harry didn’t even have to think about it; he wrapped her in a tight hug, breathing her in for one last time.

“Have a safe flight,” he whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

She walks away with a heavy heart and hopes a month and a half is enough to lose these feelings.

While home, Y/N tries to deal with her feelings, and for the most part, it works. Y/N got in the routine of going on morning walks followed by an hour of yoga. She found it helpful in clearing her thoughts and starting her day without a clouded mind. Y/N had not talked to Harry since that morning in the airport; he had sent texts, but they had all gone unread. Her mother tried to convince her to answer him, but she knew it would only hurt more if she found out he was dating that person. The only good thing about this is that Y/N had written five new songs. It seemed heartbreak and love were always a good sign of inspiration. Y/N played her favorite to her mum, and she was told it was okay. Felix told her that the new song was the heart of the new album she was working on. Through the years, she had learned to take what her mother says with a grain of salt.

Her mother was also tired of her moping. Y/N, when on break, would go to her own flat and visit her mother occasionally but so far spent her entire holiday there. Her mother assured Y/N she enjoyed having her home, but it did worry her that she had not left the house. So, as any mother would do, she set Y/N up for a blind date. Y/N said no, time and time again, but Reina promised it would only be coffee. Y/N knew she didn’t have to go, but some of her was tempted because while she knew she had friends to call up, this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Going out and talking with a stranger would be awkward but would be a change in topic.

Y/N was told he’d find her as he received a photo of her. She got there early, deciding to use the time to read a book. Quinn told her “One Last Stop” would change her life and, so far, hadn’t disappointed. Y/N was lost in the story that she jumped up when someone lightly touched her shoulder.

“Shit, sorry,” she looked up, hoping the person hadn’t spilled any coffee, and to her surprise, they were empty-handed. His chocolate eyes were filled with concern, but Y/N brushed it off by offering him a timid smile. “Hi, are you Miles?”

“Yes, and you’re Y/N,” he stated.

“Mhm…it’s nice to meet you.”

Miles nods, “you’re prettier than the picture I was sent.”

Y/N feels her face warm in embarrassment and doesn’t even dare ask to see the photo they showed him. If she knew her mother, it had to be the time she jumped into Glacier Lake and came out looking like a wet dog. Her mother always made sure to keep her humble. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

He gestures for her to sit down and follows after her. She tucks her book back into her bag, ready to give him her full attention. “Do you want something to drink? Heard they have an amazing lavender latte.”

Y/N gestures to her cup before her, “already got something.”

Miles nods, “a pastry, then?”

Now that she would never say no to. “I’ll take a muffin please.”

“You got it.”

Miles walks over to the counter, and while he’s away, she allows herself to look him over. He’s cute, wearing black trousers and a baby blue cardigan. It’s clear he’s comfortable with his style by how he carries himself. Y/N knows if she wasn’t trying to get over her feelings, she would have given him a chance, but with her going back on tour, she isn’t ready for that.

When Miles returns to the table with his drink and two muffins, she asks him about his work and family. She discovers he’s an art curator and is working on his next collection. He shares he has two older siblings and two younger, making him the middle child. His mother tries to make it up by having lunch with him each week, but it’s easy to be overlooked as a middle child. Y/N is intrigued with him and knows Miles would be a good friend; if anything, she thinks Felix would get on with him better than she did.

Y/N realized it was her turn to talk about herself, but she didn’t really like stating her job. Sometimes, people judged her, and she honestly didn’t want things to get worse with Miles, but it seemed Y/N’s luck would not improve because when the door opened, a familiar face walked in. Familiar brown curls sticking out from his trucker hat, Harry’s casual wear had always been comfortable but stylish. He always tended to run cold, so he wore an oversized green coat that reminded her of the time he threw it over her when he saw she fell asleep in his green room after his soundcheck. Y/N looked away before he could see her, but Y/N was right by an open space, easy to view by the counter. Harry could spot anything and everyone, and he was never one to be rude and ignore someone, but she hoped that would change today.

She turned back to her conversation, but in the corner of her eye, she saw someone approaching. Y/N held her breath, hoping he would walk past her, but stopped right in front of her.

“Y/N.” Oh, how she missed hearing her name falling from his lips.

She looks up and finds him staring at her with a timid smile. Y/N gets up and offers him a hug that he quickly accepts. They keep it short, though she feels his hand linger at the small of her back, almost like he didn’t want her to move away, but she wasn’t alone.

“Harry, this is uh…Miles. Miles, this is Harry.”

Harry doesn’t ask anything. He simply tells Miles it’s great to meet him. Miles looks at Y/N in confusion, but she brushes him off. “How’d you meet?” Harry asks, intrigued.

“Our mum’s set us up on a date,” Miles explains for her. “It’s actually our first time meeting.”

Y/N isn’t sure why Miles shared that with Harry, but she can’t blame it. Harry has this trusting aura that makes people want to tell him all their darkest secrets. Y/N would know, seeing as she has shared parts of herself with Harry that no one else has seen, not even her best friends.

Harry nods. She can’t seem to read him at all. His pseudonym name is called, and he uses that as his exit. “Well, it was good to see you.”

“You too, H. I’ll see you soon.”

He nods, giving his goodbye to Miles as well. Y/N watches him until he’s out of the coffee shop and no longer in her view from the mirrors. She finds Miles studying her and knows he might have been able to pick up on the tension between her and Harry.

“Do you want to tell me about that? You don’t have to.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “To start, I kinda have a crush on him, but he’s my boss.”

Miles' eyes widened in shock, “Harry Styles is your boss!” He was not expecting that, but she could tell he was intrigued. His response sends her into a laughing fit, and knows that while she won’t be dating Miles, he will make a good friend.

Y/N felt her break was long and too short at the same time. While she was able to use the time to re-energize, she also wrote a few more songs she wanted to share with her band before booking time for studio sessions. Y/N knew studio time would be hard to find, but she was determined to do it between breaks, even if all she got was two hours.

They had been rehearsing on the stage when she heard a clap from their final song for the set. Y/N turned and spotted the Love Band. She set down her guitar and rushed into Pauli’s arms. They spun her around, laughing as she blubbered on how she missed them. Pauli set her down, giving everyone a chance to say hello. Hanging in the back of the group were Mitch and Harry. Y/N knew she would need to have a conversation with Harry soon, but for now, she would bask in the joy of being back on tour and sharing the stage with him.

“Harry! Mitch!”

Harry looked surprised to see her look happy, calling for him. He sent her a small wave, but Y/N was going in for the hug. He basked in the warmth she had to share with him. Being back in the same space with Y/N was comforting after seeing her out on a date a few weeks ago. It made him feel awful, and he couldn’t help that he made Y/N feel the same with his last fling.

She let go of him, moving on to Mitch. Y/N was chatting away, telling them she had gotten a new guitar and was excited to play it tonight. Soon enough, Mitch and her were lost in their own conversation about lyrics she had written and how she was stuck on finding a melody that would work. Mitch promised to have a look and give her any ideas that would come up.

“You’re still welcome to use the piano, Y/N. I know how much that helped before,” Harry offered.

Y/N fell quiet because while she knew Harry was still there, she didn’t feel overwhelmed because she wasn’t conversing with him, but now all his attention was on her. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” she mumbles, knowing she wouldn’t take him up on it.

Harry nods, and he thinks better of it while he’s about to excuse himself. “Y/N, do you—would it be okay if we talked in private.”

Mitch excuses himself, leaving it all up to Y/N. She has no idea what this conversation will entail but owes it to herself to hear him out. “Lead the way, boss.”

Harry looks pleased and walks off the stage, leading them down some stairs and into the pit, but he doesn’t stop there. He makes her climb a few more stairs, landing them in tonight's lower bowl section of the venue.

Y/N whistles, taking in the view from the distance. “Quite a view. I might have to watch the show from here one night.”

He laughs, “you let me know, and we can make it happen. We’ll make sure you’re not mobbed.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please, your fans wouldn’t be able to recognize me.”

“Beg to differ. There are more signs for you each night.” Y/N waves him off. “They’ve started to make Tik Tok edits about you.” Harry doesn’t share how he knows, but some nights over the break, he spent time watching them. It made him miss her more, seeing her running around the stage like it was hers. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know it.

“Please, stop!” Y/N laughs. “My ego can only take so much.”

Y/N had forgotten how easy it was with Harry, but being with him now made her wish things hadn’t changed. She had to go an entire month without hearing from him because her feelings were hurt over something that should not have bothered her.

“Y/N, I am sorry for how we left things in Japan.”

She grimaces, “me too.” Harry quickly disagrees, but Y/N reminds him of all his unanswered texts.

“You’re forgiven,” he tells her.

While Y/N appreciates it, a big topic needs to be addressed.

Harry takes a deep breath before turning his body to look at her. “I know my actions and words might have confused you, but I’m here to be honest. I won’t lie to you, not now, not ever. Do you understand?”

She nods.

“Words Y/N. I need to hear you say it.”

“I understand. You won’t lie to me. I trust you,” Y/N truly believes her words.

He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I like you, and I went on to do something stupid. The girl you saw me with is named Victoria. She–well, to put it lightly, she was a hookup, and she’d join me from time to time. When you saw me that night, she was surprising me because she was going through a breakup and needed comfort, and well–I felt rejected and fell into her. I’m not blaming you–I know I could have said no, but I was too overwhelmed that I preferred to do something to disappoint myself and you. My therapist said if I had talked about it with someone–anyone, this wouldn’t have happened, but I’m not too good with words most times.”

Y/N offers him a smile, “doing pretty good now.”

Harry reaches for her hand, and Y/N lets him take it. She can see he needs the support. “I got a lot to work through, but I’m better and want to be a better partner and person. I want to be someone worthy of you.”

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out. “That's–you’re…that’s not why I didn’t confess my feelings. You’re amazing. I would be so lucky to explore a relationship with you.”

He looks at her, confused, “then what is it?”

“You’re my boss. You can say under technicalities you aren’t, but this is your sold-out world tour. I’m making a name for myself, doing what I love. While being an opening act for you has been a dream come true, being tied to you as your girlfriend will put my name out there, but not how I want. Do you understand?” Y/N hopes she got her point across, never wanting Harry to think he wasn’t enough.

Harry sighs because he knows where she is coming from. He wished he didn’t; he wished he could beg her to say yes to dating him to see where it could lead, but Harry knows how much she loves being on stage, and he would never dare threaten to take that from her or anything that comes with it.

“I understand. I do. I like you, I do. While it sucked seeing you dating someone else, I respect you. I still want to be your friend.” Harry rubs a hand under his scuffed jaw. “I miss talking with you about each show at night.”

Y/N squeezes his hands. “Friends, we’re friends. I hope you’re okay with me being in your life, even as a friend.”

Harry stands up, bringing her with him, and wraps her in a tight hug. He breathes her in. She has a distinct smell of roses and vanilla. It’s perfectly her. He wished he could bottle up the scent and take it with him wherever he went so that it hopefully would make missing her easier.

“I’ll always be your friend,” he assures her.

He can be friends with her. Harry knows it could lead him to heartbreak, but it would be worth it for Y/N.

The next few shows fly by, and Y/N and Harry easily fall into a routine again. Y/N joins Harry for his morning workouts, but Brad made her a workout to suit her likes. While Harry loves intense core workout, Y/N loves to stretch. There are days when all three go off to do a Pilates class. Mainly, Y/N does her yoga in a corner and joins Harry for his core sets.

From there, they’ll do breakfast with their bandmates, sometimes together, and sometimes go their separate ways. They have limited their time together alone because Y/N knows her feelings for Harry are only growing, and Harry wants to respect Y/N and her boundaries. Y/N shared with her bandmates how she felt, and they understood, except Quinn, who told her she should go for it. Everyone looked at Quinn, shocked, but he just shook his head, telling her to really think about this because, from his point of view, Y/N and Harry were perfect for each other. Y/N let Quinn’s words ring through her mind for some time, but Y/N was nervous about taking that next step. She wasn’t sure how it would work. She loves working with Harry, and she knows he’s taking a break after, but what if he doesn’t like that his partner is never home, just like him. Y/N loves being with her family, but she’s never happier than when she is on stage. Y/N can’t seem to take that step just yet.

In Scotland, Y/N finally decided to return to using Harry’s piano. She initially felt strange but realized she had been missing it for some time. Y/N walks in and is happy to find it open. Y/N runs a hand over the smooth wood before taking a seat. She sets down her old journal and opens it up to the last page she wrote.

Y/N lets her hands rest on the keys before going into C major. She repeats it a few times until she feels ready. It was a slow melody that went hand in hand with her lyrics. She began to sing in the room with only the sound of the piano.

Look at me. I feel homesick

Want my dog in the door

And the light in the kitchen

A creek behind her made her jump up suddenly, hands shooting out to grab her notebook to her chest. Harry steps back, hands up in defense. There is an apologetic look on his face.

“I knocked, but don’t think you heard.”

Y/N feels her face heat up and knows she tends to get lost in her music. “Sorry, it was empty when I came in. Did not expect you to come in. I can leave if you are planning to use the space. It is yours, after all.”

Harry brushes her off, walks into the room, and gestures for her to sit back on the bench with him. He scoots in close, wanting no space between them. “What did you play just now? I’ve never heard a tune so mellow yet sad.”

“Think I wrote my album closer,” she confesses.

The joy on Harry’s face is apparent. “Shit, really! That’s wonderful.”

“It’s--gosh, how I explain it. I felt like floating, and this melody really carried me through. You can find an underlying of it through a few of the other songs,” she can’t help but express to him

Harry sits back, impressed, “is the album complete?”

“Think so. I need to go into the studio and finish a few, maybe decide on one or two. Then, all good to go. Think all that’s missing is a name.”

“Y/N’s house,” he jokes.

“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice. I have an idea, but I need to be sure.”

“Will you play it for me?”

Y/N knows what he’s asking, and part of her wants to say no, but no one has heard the song. Not her bandmates, not her co-writers, not her producer, and certainly not her mother. Y/N knows if she shares this with Harry, it will change the entire album for her. When she thinks back on this song, it will now have a whole new meaning.

“It’s six minutes.”

“I have all the time in the world,” he promises her.

While they both know it’s not true, she appreciates the sentiment as they’re both set to perform tonight. Y/N takes a deep breath and, with trembling hands, begins to play her song for him. Y/N drags the intro out for a little longer before letting herself sing these lyrics she’s been carrying around for weeks. Y/N has her eyes closed, swaying as she lets herself tell this story of being exhausted and lonely for being away from everything she loves while feeling at home and her most genuine self. It tells the story of how she can grow even when experiencing so much change while being entirely on her own.

I feel like myself right now.

I feel like myself right now

Mmm.

Y/N opens her eyes, looks at Harry, and finds him crying. She sits up straight, practically pushing herself to sit in his lap as she wipes away his tears. “No, no, what are you doing? Please don’t cry.”

“You made me cry,” he mumbles while Y/N keeps her hands on his cheeks, brushing away his tears with her thumbs. “It was a fucking brilliant song.”

Y/N feels her face warm, “you think so?”

He nods, “think my tears say enough.”

“You could have cried because it was awful.”

Harry bursts out laughing, “absolutely not.”

Y/N wants to lean in and kiss him to thank him for his kind words, but he doesn’t deserve her confusion. “It’s the perfect way to end my album.”

“I agree.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you haven’t heard the whole thing.”

Harry shrugs, “don’t have to.” The flattery is becoming too much, but she doesn’t want to move away from him. “You’ll remember this moment when you win album of the year next awards season.”

“Shut up, those are stupid.”

“Hey now! I happen to own a few.”

Her hands are still on his face, his tears now dried up, but she doesn’t move away. Y/N is enjoying this too much, and a part of her knows Harry is, too. “I don’t do it for the awards. Music is something I’ve always had, and if I can share it with a few others and they find some type of meaning from it, then it means I’ve done a job well done.”

“Fucking well said, Y/N.”

Y/N giggles, “You can open for me on my tour after I win my Grammy,” she teases.

Harry places a hand over his heart, “it would be my greatest honor.”

“Shut up, you dork.”

Y/N finally lets her hands drop, and Harry takes a second to hide his disappointment.

“Does this mean we can hang out with a buffer now?”

Y/N furrows her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Sorry?”

Harry pinches her thigh lightly, making her jump closer to him, almost losing her balance. He wraps his hand around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Come on, we’ve been hanging out together, but someone always seems to be with us. If it’s not Brad, it’s Anthony; if it’s not Pauli, it’s Quinn. It’s been never-ending.”

They didn’t mean to do it, but Y/N knows she’s missed their inside jokes and private late-night talks when Harry tells everyone he goes to bed early when, in reality, he’s chatting Y/N’s ear off.

“I guess we can go back to late-night pillow talks.”

“And exploring the city?”

“Course, I missed your Google facts.”

“Heey,” he yells, offended.

“Can’t deny it. I saw you do it many times.”

“Trying to impress you,” he mutters. “Clearly, all I do is fail.”

“Stick to music. You’ll go far in life,” Y/N laughs as he rolls his eyes at her.

“Haha, it means we start right now. Found this old thrift shop nearby.” He pulls her with him as he drags her out, careful to ensure they aren’t caught because if word is out Harry has gone without security, it could be madness.

“We’ve got a show in a few hours.”

“They’ve got beautiful skirts. I called and got pictures sent over.”

Y/N sighs. He knows her too well. “Lead the way, H.”

Harry shoots her a charming smile, and Y/N knows she would have followed him wherever he asked her to without a second thought. She knew she was in safe hands with him.

Harry and Y/N had fun exploring Amsterdam for a few days before heading to Ireland. They had each planned an activity and a place they wanted to eat. Sometimes, they disagreed on food because of Harry’s eating choices, while Y/N would eat anything and everything as long as dessert was always included. Harry thought it was too much, but when he found out how much Y/N enjoyed it, he said yes and ensured she had something sweet, even if he didn’t get anything.

Jeff would tell Harry off for going without security or someone for the team but brushed him off because he didn’t need anyone intruding on his time with Y/N. He loved spending hours with her uninterrupted, touring cities he had never once had the chance to explore. While he enjoyed those days, Harry also loved show days because he got to see Y/N dance around on stage. She went from singing in sweats to her favorite mini skirts for showtime, and when Y/N decided to pair it with a baby tee, Harry had to think of world hunger and puppies to make his hard-on go away. He knows he should look away, but she captivates him every time she’s on stage, dancing and spinning around to sitting on the edge of the stage. Y/N occasionally brought fans on stage, but when that happened, he would be taken further backstage for his safety; he knew those fans were there for her at that time while he was forgotten.

Tonight was a big night. Harry would be playing at Slane Castle. Harry knew it would be special because not everyone is asked to perform here. Harry had spent most of his time today with his crew, psyching Mitch up for his debut performance. Many didn’t know Mitch had created an album and were even more surprised when he was announced as another opener for tonight. Y/N was still at the forefront of his mind, knowing he had to wish her luck for tonight. He’d be deeper in the audience tonight to watch all his friends open this monumental show for him.

Y/N would be a fool to not know what it means to be playing Slane Castle in Ireland today. Y/N’s nerves were insane today. She knew she wasn’t nervous. No, she was anxious. When she was younger, her biggest fear was disappointing her mother. Y/N hated failing others, while her mom did an excellent job of assuring she didn’t have to carry all that pressure on her shoulders. Sometimes, it came back, and she couldn’t shake it.

She had spent thirty minutes on the phone with her mother, and nothing helped. Y/N wasn’t worried about disappointing herself. No, this–tonight was bigger than her. Quinn and Felix could tell something was up, but they couldn’t help, not when June kept taking off a piece of clothing when she saw the time move closer to when they were meant to take the stage.

June was on a clothes removal band and couldn’t go to the restroom alone or even for a snack. It was honestly quite funny. It allowed Y/N to momentarily take her mind off the anxiety lingering in her body. When Y/N saw she had half an hour and her handshake got worse, she felt her throat swell up and excused herself. Y/N had no idea where to go or where to hide. She simply walked and ended up in a secluded corner where she tried to center herself before going on stage.

Harry walks into Y/N’s green room excited to see her, but all he finds are her three bandmates playing cards while June sits in a robe. He doesn’t bother questioning it and instead asks for Y/N.

They all turn to look at each other before Quinn answers. “She left like ten minutes ago. She said she needed a breather.”

That makes sense; he hates that he doesn’t know where exactly she went. Felix pulls her phone out and airdrops a location to Harry. “That’s her exact location. You should have her share her location with you. We can always see where she is.”

Not a bad idea at all. He wouldn’t mind Y/N knowing where he was, especially if seeing where she was on a map could bring him the smallest of comfort. Harry thanks them and walks back out. He walks for around ten minutes until he reaches a secluded corner in the grass. Y/N is sitting on an oversized denim jacket while she stares at her hands.

“Y/N,” he calls out softly to not startle her. She lifts her head and offers him a shaky grin. He can instantly tell something’s wrong. “Hi, love. Been looking for you.”

She shrugs as if to say she’s here. Harry steps closer but is careful not to invade her space. “Came by to wish you luck.”

Harry regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth because Y/N looked away from him, burying her face in her hands. He heard her cries, hurried to sit down, and scooped her in his lap. He rocked her back and forth as he tried to get her to stop. He hated seeing her upset. Y/N was always the epitome of strength, and this had him worried. Y/N expressed that she had a hard time going on stage, but she said it was ages ago.

He whispered sweet nothings, hoping to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. “Please tell me how I can help. Please,” he begged.

“I-I-I don’t w-want to disappoint you,” she cries out. Her tears keep falling, and seeing her like this breaks his heart.

“Hey, hey. I got you.” Harry brings her close, letting her rest her head on his chest. “You’re okay. I got you.”

“It’s a big night for you, and I want to make you proud. I-I can’t disappoint you,” she repeats.

Harry hates that she thinks she can do anything to disappoint him. He pulls her away from his chest because he needs her to understand that she can do no wrong in his eyes. “Love, will you look at me?”

Y/N lifts her head, and her teary eyes meet his warm ones. He hates that she’s doubting herself. “Tonight is the same as any other.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not. No–”

“Shh—yes, it is. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?” She mumbles.

Harry brushes her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Because I’ll still be watching. I will be cheering you on as I do every night. You make every night special, and I know tonight will be no different.”

“You have too much faith in me,” she mutters against his shirt.

“I always will. I’m a big fan of you, Y/N, not only as a person but also as an artist. I’ve seen how hard you work. How you constantly want to improve each song and each set. You want everyone in that audience to have fun even if they aren’t here for you. This is a large crowd, but if you close your eyes, it’s just you and the band. That is what you can control. So, tonight, when you get on stage, whether you sing one song or five or if you mess up a guitar note or you change your setlist. I can promise you I will be proud.”

Y/N sniffles; her tears have dried up. “Harry,” she whines. Y/N can’t find any words and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Harry wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tight. It’s a comfort they have been both seeking all day. Y/N then realized that all the anxiety she faced was because of Harry. She admires and respects him and wouldn’t dare want to mess up his big night.

“Every night is special. Tonight is slightly different only because Mitch is also performing,” Harry teases, hoping to make her laugh, and it works. He feels her laugh move through his chest and settle deep in his heart. “It’s another stop of Love on Tour, and then it’s home shows. Now that should scare you,” he jokes. “My family will be there.”

Y/N knows those words should frighten her, but if anything, it brings her comfort. Harry’s family and hers will meet for the first time, which she had been looking forward to. Honestly, if her mum gives the seal of approval to Harry, it might indeed be over for her. Although that’s something to worry about in a few days, for now, her focus is on putting on a show to remember the thousands of people at Slane Castle.

“Do you want to pick my outfit tonight?” Y/N offers, in exchange for him helping her avoid a panic attack, her hands playing with the ends of his hair.

Harry lights up, “you mean it?”

Y/N laughs, “it’s got to match my ribbons for tonight.”

Harry pouts, “what do you take me for?”

She shrugs.

“I’ll have you know I co-hosted the Met Gala.”

Y/N wags her eyebrows, “fancy.”

“Shoes?”

“Not up for debate.”

Harry waves her off, “good enough for me.”

They walk back together, hand in hand, as Harry goes over possible outfit combinations he has in mind for her. He really wants to see her in leather pants because he knows it will hug her nicely. Her black bows sit nicely in her hair as she does her makeup. June made her do an eye mask for ten minutes to bring down the puffiness in her eyes. It worked, mostly. Y/N did a shimmery eyeshadow and her eyeliner. All that was left was her outfit.

Y/N walked into the bathroom, where Harry told her it was all laid out. She shimmied into her sequined flares and slipped on the simple black baby tee. She ruffled her hair a bit, and overall, Y/N was happy with the look for tonight. She walked out to find everyone waiting for her. She did a spin and got lots of whistles and claps. Y/N told them all to shut up and to get to the stage. She lingered behind with Harry. The look he was giving her was anything but friendly.

“You look beautiful.”

“Might have to hire you as my stylist,” she jokes.

“No, I’d have you wear skirts every night.”

“But not tonight?” Y/N asks confused.

“Wanted something different tonight.”

Y/N doesn’t argue with him. She did give him a full range of her clothes. Y/N hears her name being called and knows she needs to get her mic pack.

“I’ll see you after?” Y/N checks.

“Of course.”

They stand there staring at each other. Y/N, for a moment, thinks Harry will kiss her, and she knows she will let him. Instead, he does something that makes her catch her breath. He steps close and leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Good luck, Y/N.”

It’s a simple gesture, but it has her heart racing. “Thank you, H.”

Y/N hurries off after and thanks her engineer for her mic. They hook it to the side of her pants, and Y/N jumps to test its security. So far, so good. Y/N looks behind her one last time and finds Harry giving her a thumbs-up. She could do this. Y/N would go on stage and have fun.

From the moment Y/N got on stage to when she got off, Y/N could not stop smiling. The crowd was incredible, singing her most popular songs back to her. She could not stop thanking them for a fantastic night.

“Before I play you one last song and finally leave this stage, there is one last thank you. To Harry, thank you for asking me to be a part of such a special day. It’s one I will never forget. Thank you for the kindness, but most importantly, thank you for sharing your fans. They have been the best crowds to play to. This one's for you.”

Y/N had never done a dedication before, but it felt right tonight.

In the crowd, Harry was watching Y/N’s set, and while he didn’t need a thank you, it meant a lot coming from Y/N. Harry had no idea Brad was recording him or that he caught Harry blushing as Y/N dedicated the night's final song to him. His friends knew teasing was always okay with Harry, but he looked transfixed, staring at Y/N serenading the crowd they knew could wait until later.

Y/N had the time of her life dancing with Felix, Quinn, and June to Harry’s set. She laughed loudly when he got called a slag, cheered when he thanked his band, tried to hide when he thanked her and the other openers and cried as he played “Fine Line.” It was a perfect show, everything Harry deserved.

While it was late, Y/N and Harry still hung out, talking about their favorite bits when they reached their hotel rooms. Y/N loved it when a fan shouted they loved her during a song transition. Harry thought “Kiwi” went insane tonight. Y/N recounted the slag story, and Harry let her laugh it up. He teased her, saying he noticed when she tripped over her words when introducing her band. It was every moment that made the night special. While they had a few days off before Wembley, Y/N knew it was time to head for bed as it would be a travel day. Y/N couldn’t wait to hug her mum and knew Harry felt the same.

Harry lingered outside her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Y/N wanted him to stay, but it would be crossing the boundaries they set for each other. Y/N knew she had a lot to figure out, but day by day, everything became more apparent.

“Good night, Y/N love.”

Y/N steps on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, H.” Harry walked away from her with a cheesy grin on her face. As Y/N closed the door, she knew one thing: that she liked Harry.

She is head over heels for him. Y/N knew the ball was in her court. She had to make a move if she wanted anything to happen. It seemed the hometown shows were about to get interesting.

Y/N had dreamed about playing at Wembley Stadium. While it technically wasn’t for her, she would play in a sold-out stadium. Y/N would open the show for four nights. She’d get to play here and dream of a future where she sold out her favorite stadium in her hometown.

She was in the middle of the walkway, where Harry sings “Matilda” each night. Y/N doesn’t hear the camera shutter or the footsteps approaching her. Y/N is simply taking it all in, wanting to remember the stadium empty before she sees it filled up.

“Do you still dream about nights like tonight?” Y/N turns her head when she hears her mother’s gentle voice.

“Mum!” Y/N shoots up from where she’s sitting and runs into her open arms. Y/N stands taller than her mother but never feels smaller than being wrapped tightly in her familiar embrace. “Thought you were coming until later.”

Reina laughed, “Wanted to spend the day with you, oh, and Quinn promised we’d catch up on gossip.”

Y/N shook her head, “did he bring you out here?”

“Sure did. I needed to say hi to my girl before gossiping my life away.”

“Is it book club?”

Reina sighs dramatically, “it always is.”

Y/N and her mum chatter as they make their way backstage. She’s got family members and friends coming over the four days, but her mum promised to be at all four. Her childhood best friends, Tiffany and Elena. Her cousins and nephews were coming, even her Aunt and Uncles. Y/N reminded everyone she was simply the opening act, but no one cared; they were all proud of her.

She had introduced her mother to nearly everyone except her favorite person. Y/N found Harry with his headphones in but took them off when he noticed her.

“Y/N,” he greets with a cheerful smile. He quickly notices the woman beside her and introduces himself as Harry, a friend of Y/N’s.

“My mum, Reina,” Y/N tells him.

Harry grins, “I see the resemblance. We know Y/N will look just as amazing as you in the future.”

Reina can’t stop smiling, “dear, you didn’t tell me how cheeky this one is.”

“He’s a flirt, Mumma. Nothing is stopping him.”

“Oi, you see what I have to deal with,” Harry teases. “I only flirt with pretty girls named Y/N.”

“And who’s from London,” her mum adds.

Harry points a finger at Reina before turning to look at Y/N, “I like her. I really do.”

“Keep her,” Y/N tells him. “I can only take so much teasing.”

“Oh, darling. You can never get rid of me.”

Harry throws a hand over her shoulder, bringing her close to his side. “Like you too much to go through life without you.” Y/N rolls her eyes, but her Mumma can see how flustered she has become. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet my Mum and sister. They were set to arrive any minute now.”

It’s Y/N's turn to perk up, “your Mum’s here.”

Harry feels his heart swell at her excitement to meet his mother. He has no idea what he and Y/N are, but they’re certainly more than friends.

Y/N spent the entire afternoon chatting with Anne and Gemma. She didn’t mean to monopolize her time, but Anne would keep the conversation going, and Y/N was enjoying it too much to remember she had a different job to do.

“Y/N, babe, we’ve got sound check,” Felix interrupted, apologizing to Anne.

Harry slipped into the spot next to Anne, “yeah, Y/N, leave my mum alone and go work.”

Before Y/N could rebuttal, Anne slapped his knee lightly, chastising him to be polite. Harry winked in Y/N’s direction. She excused herself and promised Anne she’d see her around for the next few days. Y/N walked out to find the band waiting for her. Y/N looked back one last time to check in on her mother and was happy to see her wrapped up in a conversation with Pauli and Mitch.

Quinn smirked when she made her way towards them. “Take it your mother-in-law likes you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She slapped his shoulder, telling him to shut up.

“Wembley, Wembley, I don’t know if you know this, but London is where I grew up. So, boss man, these are all my hometown shows, too.” Y/N laughed when the crowd cheered. “My mom took me to concerts with her because she preferred to take me with her to create these beautiful memories together instead of me staying home with a relative. So, if you enjoy my music and are happy I pursued this dream, you can thank Reina. Mum, you’re my best friend and my number one supporter. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

Y/N turned to see the screens where her mother was shown wiping her tears and blowing kisses to the screen. Y/N saw Tiffany reach over and give her a cuddle and knew she’d be in trouble for making her cry, but it was worth it.

“My name is Y/N, and it’s been a pleasure playing for you. Here’s one last song. Good night, Wembley. You’re in for a hell of a show with Harry Styles, I promise.”

Y/N ran off stage and straight into the arms of the first person she saw, which happened to be Harry. While she didn’t see him before going on stage because he had been out cheering on Madi, he was now looking at her proudly. Harry spun her around, and all Y/N wanted to do was reach down and give him a kiss. It took everything in her not to do it, especially when surrounded by hundreds of people.

“You were amazing,” he breathed as he set her down.

“They’re fucking amazing,” Y/N told him, pointing out to the crowd. Y/N rambled on about how the crowd was like no other, that the energy they brought was nothing she had ever felt. “I didn’t want to leave the stage.”

Harry laughs loudly, “should have stayed there think I could have watched you all night.”

“Awe, afraid you can’t surpass my amazingness,” she playfully mocks, knowing very well he’d knock this out of the park. Harry made a sold-out stadium feel like the most intimate show each night.

Harry can’t stop looking away from her beaming face. It brings him so much joy to see her like this each night. All he wants to do is celebrate with her, showering her with kisses and telling her how proud he is of her. Instead, he lets her go and tells her he'll see her at the end of the night. There would be no late-night talks tonight as they’d be going to their respective home. “Best of luck, H.”

He watches her walk away and mentally prepares for his first night of four in Wembley.

Wembley had been perfect each night. His family and Y/N are getting on swimmingly. He hoped for it, but seeing it in person gave him hope that he and Y/N could pursue something. With a day off in between, he was back. He knew the end of the tour was nearing, and his time with Y/N was limited, but watching her on stage each night stopped him from doing anything because he preferred to have her as a friend rather than nothing at all.

Y/N was in a red skirt tonight with a white top with embezzled cherries scattered around. He remembered her mentioning it was his saddest song. It’s not one he would sing again, but he wondered if she was ever in his show's audience to hear it live. The ribbons were cherry red and long. Slowly, as she danced around, they were coming undone. One moment, she was in front of the stage, and the next, she was dancing her way down his long catwalk. She usually kept to the stage but used more and more over time. Tonight, she sang an entire song to his fans, who sang her songs right back to her. Harry knew having Y/N as an opener would be nice, but it’s nothing he ever imagined.

“Wembley, I know you didn’t come here to see me, but thank you to those who sang along. I have one last song, and soon enough, the man of the hour will grace you with his presence. A thank you to my wonderful band. They truly are my best friends. Give it up for Quinny Quinn Quinn on bass. He truly loves all the edits you’ve tagged him in. There is Felix on guitar and the occasional tambourine. Felix always has a new hair color and keeps us whole. Lastly, this band’s hero is Junie. Junie loves the drums and loves me the most,” Y/N teases as Quinn rolls his eyes at her. “Alright, this is–for me?” Y/N asks confused. She bends down, and the security hands her the bouquet of flowers. It’s a mix of pinks and yellows. It makes her tear up. “You sure?” The fan nods, telling her she brought them specially for her. Y/N holds them close to her chest. “I love you. This has made my entire night.” Y/N shows them off to her bandmates, who are all awed by the kind gesture. She places them by her water so she doesn’t forget them. “Alright, one last thank you to you all. This is the Band and I. Good night, Wembley. I love you!”

She hurries off stage with her bouquet in hand. June commented it was a kind gesture. It reminded Y/N how fans travel to see their artist live in concert. Y/N knows she had a sold-out tour when she finished Love on tour, and while it won’t start for a few months, this time is something she won’t ever forget. She’s grateful for the experience, grateful she gets to observe how the crew is treated, and how much comradery there is on this tour. She’s heard the stories of friendship blossoming. It’s beautiful, and now that she’s gotten a glimpse, she’s happy to be a part of but something she wants to take forward with her.

Y/N drops off her flowers and goes in search of Harry.

Y/N likes Harry.

She likes spending time with him and likes to sit in silence with him, but mostly, she likes hearing him talk and tell stories. Y/N has never felt at peace with a partner or felt the infamous belly full of butterflies, but she feels them both with Harry. She doesn’t even know when she began falling. All she knows is that she’s ready to tell Harry.

While she wants to share how she feels, she’s mostly dying to kiss him. Their tension is thick, and Y/N is ready to cut through it. She did not think Love on Tour would bring her love, but after hearing Mitch and Sarah’s story, she knows anything is possible and that Harry loves playing matchmaker. He’s a big romantic, which is something everyone has told her.

She finds him in the piano room, playing an all too familiar melody. “You know, some would call that plagiarism.”

Harry’s hands fall away from the keys, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. “It’s my favorite song.”

“Not even released. I barely named it,” she tells him truthfully.

He shrugs, “special enough to me.”

“Should have named it Harry’s song instead.”

That gets him a look; his cheeks are red from her comment, and it settles Y/N’s nerves. Harry stands up, and she knows he wants to hug her. While she usually is eager to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she didn’t change coming off stage today and fears she might smell. “Think I might stink.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “stop it and get in here.”

It is no use fighting it when she only wants to be in his arms. Y/N let herself melt against him, her hands resting around his waist.

“Quite incredible out there. Almost got jealous when you got handed those flowers.”

Y/N smirks and pulls back the tiniest bit to see the pout on his lips. “Almost?”

Harry huffs out a sigh. “Fine, I did.”

She grins, “There’s no need to.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re the only person who’s got my eye,” she tells him honestly.

Harry’s face turns red, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he pulls her in closer, resting his chin on her head. Y/N struggles to work up the courage to say those three words. She didn’t realize that the fear of rejection could win out when she really liked someone.

She decides to go for it.

“Harry, will you do something for me if I ask?”

“Only if you ask nicely,” he rebuttals.

Y/N pulls away from him, and he lets her. Her hands stay rooted on his waist, letting him know she doesn’t want him to go far.

“Kiss me, please,” Y/N whispers out into the room. Harry was shocked at her request. He stayed staring at her, unsure if he had misheard, but Y/N repeated herself one more time. “Will you please kiss me?”

He had been waiting for this moment when everything would shift for them, and now that it was here, he was overwhelmed. Harry wanted to kiss her but didn’t know what it would mean for her because he knew what it meant to him. There was a part of him that knew how she felt, but he was dying to hear it.

Instead of questioning it, Harry decides to lean in Y/N, lifting her head to allow their lips to touch, but Harry keeps just enough distance between them to see if she really wants this. Harry lets their lips brush, leaving the ball in her court. He was tempted to go all in but needed to know she wanted him. Y/N was in a daze; she had never felt like she could pass out from a simple touch, but with Harry, it had been like that from the start, from small touches to holding hands. Y/N knew precisely what he was doing and knew exactly what she wanted.

Y/N connected their lips, and she felt fireworks go off. She doesn’t know why she stayed away for so long. Now, she never wants to go without him. Harry raises his hands to cup her face, taking control of the kiss. It is gentle and full of care. She never wanted it to end, and it seemed neither did Harry. Harry was getting lost in the taste of Y/N. He knew he didn’t care what happened as long as he got to keep her in the end.

He pulled away breathless, but Y/N pulled him back in for another kiss before he could say anything. It went on for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes. There was a loud pounding on the door that made the spring apart. Y/N gazed at his swollen lips and knew she must look the same, if not worse.

“Y/N–” He shakes his head, not able to wrap everything around his head

“Shh…” Y/N doesn’t want this moment to end, although she knows it must. “We’ll talk later, I promise.”

Harry frowns. He doesn’t want to give her the chance to change her mind and reject him. He wants her, simple as that. “But–”

“I promise I won’t change my mind. I’d tell you right now, but I wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night if I did.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he confesses.

Y/N chuckles and presses a final kiss to his lips. “I’ll be cheering you on, popstar.”

Harry smirks, “dedicating tonight to you.”

“Menace.”

The show is a beautiful success. Harry spots Y/N in the crowd tonight and spends too much time singing to her. Not that many fans pick up on it. He wouldn’t mind anyone finding out, but she’s all his right now. He runs off stage and straight into his dressing room. He’s got a car waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Y/N. His mom trails in, followed by Jeff and a few others. Harry keeps his door open to keep an eye on her. Harry packs up a few of his belongings, knowing he’ll return tomorrow for a final night. Harry is listening to Jeff drone on about tomorrow and the surprises he has planned when he catches sight of Y/N’s purple bow breezing by. He doesn’t even apologize to Jeff; he runs out after her.

“Y/N!” He calls out.

Y/N stops and smiles. “Hi you! Nice job out there.”

Harry blushes because, as confident as he was on stage dancing for her, there’s a difference between being dressed down and having his crush tell him he did amazing on stage. It means everything knowing she enjoys the shows each night. Harry loves seeing her sing on stage each night and is thankful he gets to enjoy it for a few more weeks.

“I–I’ve got to get going but wanted to see you.”

Y/N reaches up and cups his cheek. Harry leans into her touch, neither caring if someone spots them nor knowing they are in safe hands with the crew around them. “I hope you have a good night. I’ll see you here tomorrow, ready for one final show. I hear it’s going to be the best one yet.”

“Is there something you want to see me play?”

Y/N offers him a soft smile, shaking her head. “All I want is to see you happy on stage.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, Harry knows her words will be on repeat as he falls asleep tonight. He wants to give her something special tomorrow. “I’ll find out your favorite song,” he promises.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “H, I mean it. You being happy on stage is all I could ask for.”

Harry turns his head and kisses the palm of her hand. “I’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

She stares at him lovingly, knowing they both have to go and get a good night's rest. They’ll be apart for a few hours, and tomorrow, be back together to share a few more kisses.

“Good night, you.”

Harry leans in and kisses her cheek. “Night, sweetheart.”

The final night at Wembley had arrived, and she was ready. Y/N knew Harry had most of his family and friends here, which made her slightly nervous because she knew he would want her to meet them but also knew most of them wouldn’t show up for lil ol’ her as an opener. Y/N, when she arrived at the arena, was separated from her band and found at Harry’s side. Harry selfishly wanted her to stay with him; he even sneaked them off to a hidden corner of the stadium, where he kissed her breathless. He promised only a few minutes, which turned out to be thirty. Y/N showed up to her soundcheck with bruised lips and a wide smile. The band decided to tease her later when Harry wasn’t around, seeing they also had lots of questions.

“Yo–you look gorgeous,” Harry expressed as he walked into her dressing room and saw her dressed in a black maxi dress with embroidered flowers instead of her signature mini skirt.

Y/N did a twirl for him, “you like? My mum found it at this shop we love to visit together. Altered it to perfection. The extra fabric she used for my bows,” Y/N points out. Harry admires her loose curls, a massive bow holding half up in a messy updo. She looked effortlessly beautiful.

“It’s wonderful.”

“I got a wardrobe upgrade for the next few weeks. Leaving a lot at home and packing a ton of new outfits. Think it’s time to play dress up,” Y/N laughs, knowing she will have a fun time and lots of new looks to explore.

“Can you dance in it?”

Y/N smirks, “don’t worry, Felix made me practice shaking my ass already.”

“Oh darn,” he jokes. “Have a lovely show.”

Harry brings her in for a hug, and Y/N sags against him, loving the comfort he brings her. As she goes to pull away, Harry leans in for a kiss but waits for her permission; with a simple nod, he connects their lips and captures her heart. The kiss is perfect. It’s slow and gentle but filled with passion and yearning. Yearning for more time together, longing for all they have yet to explore. Harry backs away, his lips shining from her strawberry lip gloss.

With a final wave, he’s gone, and Y/N takes the stage.

“Welcome to the final night of Wembley! Promise you’re in for a hell of a show. I-I’ve never been happier.” Y/N thinks back to minutes before she walked on stage and knows her words have never been more accurate. “Let’s dance!”

The show passes in a breeze, and before she knows it, she’s reached the end of her set, having one final song left to perform. She never seems to feel time passing when she’s on stage. While Y/N loves playing for Harry’s fans, she’s excited to get back on the road for herself soon enough.

“Wembley, Wembley. You are a beautiful crowd. I’ve got one last song for you.” The crowd cheers. “Ouch,” she feigns hurt, placing a hand over her heart. “I won’t take offense only because I’m also excited for Harry.” Y/N steps towards the stage with her microphone. “Thank you for receiving me with open arms, Wembley. I love performing and singing all my songs for you. I hope you come out to a show of mine in the future. It would be lovely to see familiar faces in the crowd. Before I continue, there are some people I need to thank. My mum Reina is in the crowd.” Y/N cheers when the crowd screams and chants for her mother. “She’s going to love that. There is someone special who is not here but has a special place in my heart and made me fall in love with singing: my Dad. While it feels like it has always been my mum and I, he’s never forgotten. My mom gave me all his records and always played music he loved. It led me to finding my dream and making it come true. Mumma, thank you for everything. I love you. Lastly, Harry Styles, it has been my greatest honor to join you on tour, but tonight, I feel extra thankful to be here with you. You’ve become a great inspiration throughout this tour, and I’m grateful for you.”

Y/N wipes her tears, laughing to herself for getting emotional. One last song to sing. She looks at the sky and whispers, “this is for you, Pops.” When she finishes, Y/N blows kisses to the crowd and rushes off stage and straight into her mother’s waiting arms.

“He would be so proud,” Reina whispers, making Y/N shed a few more tears. “I’m proud of you, my angel.”

Y/N squeezes her mother tighter. “Thanks, Mumma.” After her mother finishes showering her in kisses, Y/N heads to her dressing room, wanting to change and shower, except when she walks in, she finds Harry reading her lyric journal.

“Harry?” She looks at him, confused.

He stands up quickly, setting the book down on the couch. “I-I didn’t mean to. But it was flipped open to

‘Right Now’ it’s the song you played me on the piano. I still shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious. I–I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Y/N wishes he wasn’t so panicked. “It’s okay. I think you’ve heard all about these songs. Very comfortable with you reading it. Only June gets a kick at reading the notebook. Think she left it out.”

Harry sighs. She opens her arms for him, and he falls right in. “You were wonderful! Love seeing you so happy,” he mutters.

“Special crowd. Don’t know if it’s possible, but it feels like there's more people than the other nights,” she confesses. She wouldn't be surprised if that was the truth; fans sneaking into the pit are much more common when workers are distracted, even if they try their best.

He laughs, “guess we’ll see, all I know is tonight will be special.”

Y/N enjoyed this downtime with Harry. While they knew a conversation was waiting to happen, they simply chose to enjoy this final night in London before continuing on the road for the next few weeks. Y/N knew how she felt, but this was not the time or place to have this discussion. It’s one she would be waiting for in the days to come.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Got a surprise for tonight.” Harry stole a kiss and backed away from her. Y/N could see a twinkle in his eye and knew he had found her favorite song. Y/N knows he went to her Mum. She was the only one who knew. While ‘Fine Line’ was special and he played it every night, she wondered if he would play it for her.

Y/N doesn’t always watch the show in the audience; sometimes, she is side-stage dancing with Felix and playing air guitar. Then there are times they’re in the green room eating while watching Harry play through the TV in their room, but tonight, Y/N joins his family and watches from the right side of the stage. Anne said they’re close enough that he can spot them but not enough to distract him. For the last week here, Y/N had met most of his friends and family; there would even be a celebration at the end of the night where more people would attend. Y/N knew Harry would be the man of the hour and had decided she’d hang for an hour before heading home. While she selfishly wanted to monopolize all his time, Y/N knew she couldn’t. She’d see him on their flight to Wales in a few days.

“He’s got quite a big crush on you,” Gemma nudges her shoulder. “I would know I’m his older sister.”

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Then I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“My brother’s a shy guy. When he’s onstage, he shines so bright, but when he walks off, he’s back to being my shy brother who, for the life of me, is awful at starting conversations. He cares so much for everyone in his life. Once you’re in, you have a friend with him for life.” Gemma tells Y/N, and she knows it’s as much a welcoming as it is a warning.

“I-I think he’s amazing. Fuck, I’ve kept a distance for a while only because I wasn’t certain if he was genuine. But repeatedly, he proves to go above and beyond for anyone. Being home puts many things in perspective for me,” Y/N sighs and offers Gemma a timid smile. “I’d be lucky to be given any relationship with Harry.”

Gemma’s laugh rings loud, causing their mums to look over at them, but Gemma waves them off. Gemma links her arm with Y/N and declares them dance partners for the night. “You’re a good person, I can tell. And even if I couldn't, my mum could, she adores you already. Think she plays your music more than Harry.”

Y/N gasps in surprise, “please tell me Harry knows!” Gemma shakes her head. “Oh my gosh, he said I write sad music.”

“Well, he writes horny pop songs,” Gemma chips in.

Y/N falls into a fit of giggles, “he does!”

“You write rock mixed with sadness and a few pop influences.”

Y/N feels her face heat up, knowing Gemma is clearly a fan of her music. It always overwhelms her, but knowing that Gemma, Harry’s sister, enjoys her music is a big win for her. It brings her a lot of joy. Y/N always had an easy time conversing with people, but she feared making relationships and connections. It’s a reason her circle is tight-knit, but chatting with Gemma makes her hope that a new friendship could start here.

The night is spent dancing and singing at the top of their lungs or as loud as Y/N knows she’s allowed without messing up her voice. After Mitch’s incredible solo for ‘She,’ Harry walked to the middle of the catwalk with the ladies of his band. It seemed as if every fan knew what song was coming as Y/N saw friends embrace each other. Y/N walked over to her mother, knowing her Mumma related a little too closely to the song. However, the familiar notes to ‘Matilda didn’t start; instead, it was a soft guitar intro. Reina pulled Y/N tight into her arms. This was the surprise Harry had mentioned.

Harry finds his mum and sister hugging as he sings, but he keeps searching until his eyes land on Y/N, who is being embraced by her mother as she sings along to every word of “Sweet Creature” while Harry has no idea what this song means to her, she knows what it means to him and his sister. There are many ways to interpret his songs, and he’s glad Y/N connected with this one. He’s happy he could give Y/N and her mother this moment for it to become theirs.

It’s hard keeping his emotions under control for the entire show, but he does his best. He remembers to thank his family and promises Wembley he’ll see them soon. When Harry runs off the stage that night, he knows he left his heart out there for every single person. It’s something he knows he is going to get back with a lot more love-filled into it.

There is a celebration that Jeff hosted for everyone wanting a perfect end to four sold-out nights in the city that changed his life and has now become his home. Harry sees his crew mingling. He sees Y/N’s band mixing with his band. It’s nice to see how connected everyone has become over the last few months. The person he is searching for is talking to Glenne. He sees them laughing, and as he makes his way over to them, he is intercepted by Ben, a long-time friend. Harry bounces around the room, converses with everyone, and occasionally drinks with them. Harry had managed to keep an eye on Y/N all night until he was saying goodbye to someone, and when he turned back, he could no longer spot Y/N. Harry knows he’ll see her soon and has her number to call her, but he really wanted to hear her thoughts about tonight’s show.

Harry pulls out his phone to call her when he finds a text from her.

Y/N

Thank you for the surprise. Tonight truly was magical.

Did you enjoy the rain? Think the heavens opened up from how emotional you made everyone. I’ll see you soon. Give me a call tomorrow. xx

He pockets his phone with a smile and knows what he has with Y/N is good, and he’ll do everything in his power to make her happy for a long time.

In Wales, Y/N and Harry did not go a moment apart as if they had become each other’s shadows. Where one went, the other followed. No one questioned it because it was bound for something to happen, but what happened? No one knew. Y/N and Harry shared kisses behind closed doors, and it was theirs. It was the time to brush everything away and simply be together.

Belgium came much too soon, and there is something Harry has been meaning to ask. He’s lying on Y/N’s hotel bed, knowing they have a few days before their show, and Harry’s dying to take Y/N out on a date.

“Sweetheart,” Harry calls out for her.

“In a minute.”

She walks out of the bathroom a minute later, her skincare finished for the night. They had arrived a few hours ago, and Harry quickly approached her.

“Beautiful.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t stop her face from heating up at the compliment. “Sweet talker.”

“Only yours,” Harry sing-songs.

She lies down with him. “Any big plans in Belgium, H?”

“A sold-out show,” he teases.

“Well, obviously.” She plays with a loose thread on her shirt. “Meant sightseeing.”

Harry shrugs and scoots closer, reaching down to take her hand in his. “Not really sure. Thought sleeping would be a good start.”

“Don’t be silly. You and Brad love an early morning workout.”

Harry reaches out and pokes her nose, making her scrunch her face in surprise. “No need to be jealous. Early days with Brad mean free days with you, sweets.”

He had a point. Y/N deflates because while Belgium is famously known for its waffles, she doesn’t want to explore alone. She also knows it is harder for Harry to simply be out. “It’s simply we have time to explore cities I’ve never visited before, and while I selfishly want to ask you to roam the city with me, I know it’s not possible.”

“Hey,” he speaks softly. Her hand stays cradled to his chest, all his attention Y/N. His eyes say everything he hasn’t voiced yet. “We can walk around any city aimlessly. You don’t have to worry about anything else.”

“Harry,” she breathes out. “You–”

“Why can’t I? Simply because others will look or because I’m this big name. Don’t I deserve the same respect as others to simply be.”

“You do. Of course, you do.”

“Then, don’t worry about anything else. I promise I will be there if you ask me to be somewhere or want to go to a chocolate-making class.” Harry’s words fill her with hope. Hope that whatever this is will turn into something more, something special.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I-I don’t want to go to a chocolate class.”

Harry falls into a fit of giggles, leaning in close to press kisses to her cheeks, not caring that she tries to push him away because he knows she likes it, knows she craves his touch as much as he does hers. “Would you go on a date with me, Y/N?”

Y/N freezes, not having expected him to ask her. She always kept it at the back of her mind, but now he’s here asking for more. “A date?” She repeats. “With me?”

Harry’s laugh rings loud, “you’re kind of who I’m asking.”

She wants to blurt out yes, it’s on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back. Instead, he thinks about it for a second, wanting to make Harry sweat for a second. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow? I can plan a whole day out for us.”

Y/N breaks out a huge smile; dates usually last an hour or two, but she has Harry wanting to spend the entire day with her. She knows this is unconventional and that they have already spent so much time together that it will now only be outside the four walls of a hotel room.

“Tomorrow is perfect,” she agrees.

Harry bids her goodnight and promises to be here at eight with a coffee for her to start the day.

True to his word, the following morning, Harry is there with two cups of coffee and a paper bag. The smell of fresh bread reaches her, and Y/N knows this is a fantastic start. Harry leads them out of the hotel room and onto the street, promising walking would be better.

Making it to their first destination, it’s a Botanical Garden, and Y/N practically shines with happiness. From the moment they walk in, they are met with blooming plants. They find out it’s pretty empty, not many people picking a garden for their first visit of the day. Y/N roams around, with Harry trailing close behind. She doesn’t realize Harry is taking photos of her every few minutes. Harry wanted to capture the entire day, and seeing her beauty through his eyes was something to behold.

“H, come on!” Y/N turns to him with a stretched-out hand, and he’d be a fool not to take it. They spend a few hours roaming around, stopping to take pictures and sitting on benches as they take in all the beauty, never letting go of each other’s hands.

Y/N knew it was always easy with Harry, but she let every touch linger a bit longer in this new context of being on a date. Harry told her it was time for the next destination, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew the day would only get better.

“Did you know fries are actually Belgian and not French?” Harry tells Y/N as they share a small plate outside a shop.

Y/N chews a fry, tilting her head, thinking his words over. “Weird to call them French.”

It turns out Harry had no real plan for them besides the gardens, but was too worried to tell Y/N. She laughed and promised him she didn’t mind. Spending time with him was more than enough. Aimlessly walking is her favorite pastime when she’s in a new city, but doing it here with Harry, she knows it will never be the same again.

They walked in and out of shops for the next few hours, laughing at shared stories and buying knickknacks for family members. Harry dragged Y/N into a chocolate shop, where the worker was kind enough to offer them samples. After buying too much, Y/N promised to share it with the crew. It was too good for them not to share.

After some time, Harry pulled Y/N to sit on a bench with him. It gave them a beautiful view of the sun that was beginning to set. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable enough to enjoy each other’s company without saying anything.

“Did you know I once wrote a song about Rapunzel?”

“The princess?” Harry asks.

“Mhm…I loved the film, and I thought Rapunzel had lost so much time being trapped that, being free, she didn’t know where to start. It was not my best.”

Harry nudges her shoulder, “doubt that.”

She shrugs, “who knows, maybe it was amazing, but I’ll never know, never thought to record it.”

“What made you want to pursue music?” Harry asks. He has her hand in his lap, twisting the ring she wears on her pinky finger with her father’s initials.

Her father comes to mind, “I was really young when we lost my dad. He loved music; he was the type to love it all, from Metal to pop to Spanish. He worked as a producer exclusively in London and with close artists, he had never wanted anything to take him from home. He loved my mum too much to ever want to part with her for long. My dad always had music playing. My mum said it was the first thing I reacted to when she was pregnant with me. By the time I was born, music lulled me to sleep and was the first thing I heard when I woke up. By the time we lost him, my Mumma played his records to keep his memory alive. She only bought new ones on his birthday and anniversary. I didn’t realize until I was much older that it also connected them.” Y/N pauses to send Harry a smile, and he answers by squeezing her hand. “My mum knew I had a good pair of lungs during my theater days and pushed me to pursue more if I wanted. I taught myself guitar and took piano lessons because I wanted to improve. It wasn’t always easy, but I loved learning, so it only motivated me. I wanted to share music because I wanted to connect with others and proudly say I’m doing that.” Y/N feels overwhelmed but is happy she shared this with Harry. She can’t remember the last time she was this honest with anyone.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Harry kisses her cheek. “I-I love seeing you on stage. You radiate this energy that—” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but it makes you want to be part of it. I think you’re one of the most amazing songwriters we have in our generation.”

“Harry,” she shakes her head to get him to stop, but it urges him on.

“I mean it. You’re incredible, and I’ll forever scream it from the rooftops if you want me to.”

Y/N feels her face flush and turns to pull Harry in for a hug. She breathes him in for a long moment, “I–thank you.”

After the sunset, they walk back to their hotel. They linger outside Y/N’s door, not ready to say goodbye even after a long day together.

“We–”

“I–”

“You first,” they reply in unison.

Harry gestures for her to go first.

“I was going to say if you want, we can freshen up and have dinner in my room, maybe watch a movie,” she asks nervously.

He nods eagerly, “yes, please.”

“Good, good. Say an hour?”

“Perfect.”

Harry lets her open her hotel room, but before she can wave goodbye, he pushes her against the entrance and leans in to kiss her. Y/N sighs against his lips. She has wanted to do all this all day. His hands hold her waist firmly while Y/N fists his shirt to keep him close.

Y/N pulls back to catch her breath, “been wanting to do that all day.”

Harry smirks, “well, here’s another one.”

His lips are soft, but the kiss is fast and needy. There has been a build-up to this moment all day. Y/N lets him guide her as he explores her mouth. She moans as he nips her bottom lip. Y/N pulls him closer, needing to feel him against her. She’s so lost in the kiss she jumps back in surprise when the door slams shut. Harry rests his forehead against hers, his breath heavy. “Maybe not the smartest thing we’ve done.”

Y/N bites her lip, “probably not.”

Harry thumbs at her bottom lip, and she releases it. “Please stop, or I’m going to kiss you again.”

“I don’t mind,” she confesses.

“Y/N,” Harry groans. “I’m going to go.”

“But you’ll be back?” She asks softly.

“In an hour,” he assures her. “Pick a movie for us.”

“Bye Harry.”

Harry kisses her cheek, knowing that if he gets another taste of her, it will lead to more kissing, which they clearly do not want to rush. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Y/N shuts the door behind him, a large grin on her face. She’s falling hard, and she’s falling fast.

“Vienna is probably one of the most beautiful songs ever created,” June tells Y/N, who’s lying on the floor of Harry’s stage. “The beauty of getting older.”

“June, you hated that song when you were younger,” Quinn chimes in.

“Am I not allowed to change my opinion?” She yells. Quinn simply puts his hands up, deciding it is not worth defending.

“City of Music is nothing I thought it would be,” Felix shares.

“What were you expecting?” Y/N asks curiously.

Felix laughs, “definitely fewer parks.”

“Oi, is this what we pay you to do?” Harry shouts as he walks over to them dressed in blue jeans and a “Pleasing” sweater.

“Y/N, save us, please!” They all collectively yell.

Harry snickers at her, knowing they might not have told anyone about the dates they’ve been having in every city that usually end in one of them staying the night in the other’s room. It started off with neither of them wanting to say goodnight. Harry laid on her blankets while she tucked herself, holding hands; they dozed off to sleep. It was a no-brainer after that because they both enjoyed waking up to one another. Nothing goes on except a bit of kissing. She can’t say she hasn’t been craving something more but knows there is no need to rush her time with Harry.

“It’s chisme time,” Y/N tells him. “Anything to share.”

“I love Gossip.” Harry takes a seat next to Y/N, leaving not a single space between them. “Did you know we’re not having soup for lunch?”

Everyone collectively groans, “banished, you’re no longer welcome,” Quinn shooed him away.

“Hey now, I got a better one,” Harry leans in closer. He glances at Y/N before telling the others to get close, leaving Y/N out of their makeshift circle.

Y/N sits back, relaxed; with Harry, there is no need to worry about anything. June and Felix lean back, “Oh,” at the news while Quinn looks confused. He looks at Y/N, then back to Harry, then again to Y/N.

“Lies. Not real. She doesn’t have the game,” Quinn says while looking at her.

While Y/N has no idea what Harry whispered to them, June’s grin says it all. She knows it has to do with the dates they’ve been going on. Y/N had mentioned she liked Harry, but they all assumed she would do nothing about it.

“H, what did you do? It seems like they’re broken now.” Y/N points out to her two loudest bandmates, who have not said a single word, and Quinn, who has started to pace around on stage.

Harry leans back on his arms as he takes in the scene before him. “Simply told them I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Had no idea you were keeping me as your dirty little secret.”

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “no, never, it’s ju—” she cuts herself off, seeing that his dimples are on display and not an ounce of sadness or pain. “You’re annoying.”

“But you like me!”

“Whatever.”

“You brushed of my question.”

“More like a statement,” she rebuttals. “Clearly not how you’re going to ask me.”

Harry sends her a cheeky wink, “course not.”

“Then you’ll have to wait for my answer until then. Now shoo, I’ve got to rehearse and answer all their dumb questions.”

Harry kissed her cheek with a loud “muah” and promised to head to her room tonight.

There was a sense of anxiety that had been with Y/N all day. Harry had made a bold statement tonight, and she wondered if he did it to give her the time to see if that was what she wanted. Harry was not like someone she had ever been with. She never had to speak on her emotions; she always went with the flow, but Harry is giving her the choice here. Y/N is nowhere near ready for the conversation, and it seems Harry knows because when he arrives in her room and sees the stress in her eyes, he takes her in his arms and tells her it’s time for bed.

Harry takes a shower while Y/N changes into an old tour shirt and boxers. Harry enters the bedroom to find her lying in the middle of the king-sized bed.

“You look adorable.”

“Cute enough for cuddles?”

Harry laughs, “always.”

He makes his way to her after double-checking the lock on her door and ensuring his phone is off. He lifts the blankets and settles behind Y/N, his hands slipping under her shirt and pulling her towards him. Y/N sighs and melts against him.

“There’s no pressure to have this conversation. I want you to know where I stand. I know I might not have gone about it the best way, but I want you to know you have as much control over this relationship as I do.”

With Harry’s reassuring words, Y/N felt at ease. She knew she was overthinking everything, but Harry understood her like no one else had.

“I like you, Harry,” she confessed. “I like you a lot. I-I-how you manage to always have the right words escapes me, but I’m thankful. I like you, and I like where this is going.”

Harry squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I like you too. Promise, I’m sticking around.”

Y/N knows she’s lucky to have Harry.

“¡Hola Barcelona! Yo me llamo Y/N, gracias por acompañarnos esta noche.” The crowd cheers after hearing her Spanish. “I know, right, pretty good. My grandpa taught me a living legend he still is. Think he’ll be proud. Let’s have some fun tonight.”

Y/N, as soon as she gets off stage, feels a heaviness in her heart because, after tonight, there are only three shows left. It means not seeing her friends and the new friends she has made for a long time. Y/N is jumping straight into a tour in two months, meaning she’s got to start rehearsals in a month. While she doesn’t know what comes next, she does hope to finish her album before she heads out on tour. Harry had accompanied her to the studio, and even Mitch had tagged along, wanting to see her process. It led to them playing guitar in a few of her songs. These memories she’s made throughout this tour will live within her new album.

Y/N didn’t know how much her life would change by accepting to be Harry’s opening act. She knows she should bask in the happiness while she can, but the reminder lingers in her mind. Y/N finds Harry and is not surprised to find him with Mitch. They’re speaking about Mitch’s album while Sarah is lying on the couch with her son, who’s napping. There has been so much to happen since this tour started, and Y/N never gets tired of hearing the stories.

“Dinner?” Harry raises his head when he hears her voice. Mitch waves at her but doesn’t offer her a word; instead focuses on Sarah.

Harry rushes over to her, wrapping her in a hug. “Promise I watched. Mitch stole me away quickly.”

Y/N laughs. Harry not watching didn’t even cross her mind. “You’re fine. Wouldn’t blame you, boring for you with the same ol’ setlist each night.”

“Hey now,” Harry defends. “That’s my favorite singer, you're insulting.”

“Oh, Stevie Nicks is not going to like that,” Mitch comments.

“Wanker!” Harry gives Mitch the middle finger and guides them to get soup, Harry’s favorite food, before a show. It’s known to settle his nerves.

“That’s okay, Hozier is mine,” Y/N chirps, sharing a laugh with Mitch.

“Irish tend to be superior,” Mitch agrees.

Harry walks out with Y/N, sending Mitch a wave. Harry walked them to his green room, requesting his soup and Y/N’s sandwich to be sent. She told him she’d pick it up, but Harry shared he wanted a minute alone with her. Y/N hadn’t technically been with Harry long; it’s only been two weeks, give or take a few hours, but she’d known him for months. There was no need to talk as Y/N settled on the couch with him. She felt tired after her set, all the adrenaline gone. Harry asked her for dinner, and then she’d watch Harry from her dressing room with the rest of her band. The final days were approaching, and Y/N knew she’d prepare to say goodbye to them, too, even if it was for a few weeks.

They settled in the silence, no need for conversation. Y/N was content to be wrapped in Harry’s arms as he closed his eyes, breathing her in. Y/N had not let herself think about the end of the tour because she wanted to enjoy every moment, and now, with the end so close, she honestly never pictured herself falling in love with Harry. She knows she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She had him and would protect this relationship for as long as she was allowed to have him and even long after.

After a successful show, Harry came to sleep in Y/N’s room with the promise he wanted to be close to her. Y/N was not one to deny him of any request, not when he kept her safe. Y/N woke up feeling too warm with Harry’s hand flat against her warm skin. He loved physical touch and kept his hold on her even in his sleep. Y/N shimmied behind him but stopped when she felt how hard he was. She knew it was normal, but a part of her wanted to take care of it and take the next step with him.

“Baby, you got to stop moving,” Harry groaned in her ear. Y/N paused, thinking he might not be on the same page but as if he could read her mind, “unless you want me to take care of you.”

Y/N stayed frozen because her mind was running wild on the possibilities that could happen. She had dreamed about Harry taking care of her, but now, making it happen, Y/N was at a loss for words.

Harry turned Y/N, making her lay on her back, and he shifted above her with a gentle smile. “Morning, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” she breathed out.

Y/N knew she didn’t look her best, with tired eyes and crazy hair, not even mentioning she hadn’t brushed her teeth, but by the way, Harry was gazing at her, it was clear he wasn’t thinking the same.

��You’re beautiful. Thought you were a figment of my imagination, but here you are, spread out under me.”

She feels her face heat up, loving how warm his words make her feel.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you whatever you ask for.” She knows he means it. He’s a giver. It’s what brings him the most joy.

“Want you to touch me,” she spoke softly.

Harry kneeled over her, careful not to let his entire body sit on her. He ran his fingers up her arm, biting back a smile at the goosebumps that raised over her body. Y/N’s breathing slowed down as her eyes never left his. “Where, baby?”

Y/N shimmied, her face burning. She couldn’t, but she knew he’d continue to play with her if she didn't. His hands now tracing over her stomach and up to her breast. Y/N pushed against his hand, but he pulled away, tutting at her greediness.

She didn’t have the words, but Y/N guided his hand, resting on her stomach to her wet pussy. Harry moaned when he felt how ready she was for him. “Here, baby. Need me here?”

“Please, Harry. Need you to take care of me,” she begs.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Consent had never felt so sexy.

“Yes, please, Harry.”

“You’re not wearing panties.”

Y/N has to hold back a laugh because she is begging him to make her come, and he is focused on her having no panties. “I run hot, you know that.”

He glided his fingers around her pussy, spreading around her wetness. She let out a needy moan when he slid his fingers inside her. The feel of her clenching around his fingers made him eager to add another. Harry loved seeing her like this. It made him want to give her everything. In and out, he moved his fingers inside her, rubbing and stroking her swollen lips. She laid their legs spread out, head back, taking it all. Harry knew she was close, but he was greedy for a taste.

Harry lowered his mouth to her stomach, pushing her shirt up, allowing him to kiss her breasts before continuing down the path calling for him. He kissed along her thighs, and Y/N felt her breathing slow down. He continued with his slow kisses along her hips up to her belly and back down again. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulled her closer.

“Oh baby, I need to taste you.” His warm breath tickled my skin as he lowered his mouth and bit into the inside of her thigh. Y/N let out a loud moan, urging him to continue. He kissed her repeatedly, knowing it would bruise. He was glad to mark her his.

Y/N let out a soft cry as his tongue licked up her thigh. She needed everything as he moved closer to where she was ready for him. He slowly dragged his tongue through her folds.

Fuck.

“Harry, Harry,” she chanted his name.

Y/N could only beg for more as Harry muttered something about how delicious she tasted. As he licked into her, he slid one finger into her as his thumb rubbed against her clit. In seconds, Y/N was lifting to meet each thrust of his finger.

“You sound so beautiful with my name on your lips,” he dived back in. “Want me to make you mine?”

“Yes,” Y/N moaned. “All yours. Only yours.”

Y/N was writhing and wiggling anything to keep him pressed against her clit as his tongue thrust inside her. Everything was on fire; every nerve in her body was firing off. He slipped another finger, and Y/N exploded. It all became so much, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as she felt her orgasm rip through her. Y/N felt Harry slow down, lazily moving away from her, with no apparent rush in wanting to leave her. Harry slowly sits up; she sees hooded eyes, her eyes focused on the mess she’d made on his face. Harry raised his hand and slipped his wet fingers in his mouth, cleaning the last of her juices. Y/N knows they’d get going for a second round if he's not careful.

“Let me kiss you,” she begged, her voice rough.

Harry ran a tongue over his lips, making a show of cleaning her off him, “not ready to share yet.”

“Nasty,” she chastised before she leaned up, placing her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him for a heated kiss. “Will you come for me, Harry?” She mumbled against his lips.

She pushed away, removing her shirt, throwing it to the side, and lying back, allowing him the view of her breasts, her nipples hard as she begged him to come. Harry slid down his briefs, and Y/N gasped at how beautiful he looked hard and thick because of her. Y/N reached for him, but Harry shook his head, a clear sign this would be quick. Harry wet his hand, moving it steadily up and down his base. Y/N was mesmerized. She played with her tits as he stroked himself, knowing he loved the show.

“Come for me, Harry,” she purred. “Show me how good I helped make you feel. Show me how much you loved making me come. The feel of your tongue is something I never want to forget. How well you take care of me.”

“Fuck, baby. Didn’t know you could be so dirty.”

“Promise to take you down my throat next time. Let you use me any way you want. Please, Harry, come for me.”

That was all he needed for him to come on her skin.

“You’re a dirty girl,” he comments.

Y/N winks, “only for you.”

As they settled down from the high, Harry cleaned her up with an old shirt of his. They stayed cuddled on the large bed, sitting in silence. There was so much said between them, but they both knew they meant every word. It would be only up from here, even if only a few days were left.

Y/N has enjoyed meeting new people, but this tour introduced her to new friends. Harry’s band is lovely and quite large; he has his main band, but during the disco medley, as he likes to call it, he brings out the horns. She found herself overtime making her way to their dressing room, watching them get ready for the night. Throughout her time on the tour, she earned her spot in their room as she watched them get ready before her set or after.

Tonight was no different. Y/N was talking with Lorren and Parris about their plans after the tour. They shared they had shows lined up, but a break was the first thing they were looking forward to, and Y/N had to agree.

“Lorren, can I ask you something?”

Lorren turned to Y/N with a bright smile, “well, of course.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could add stars to my face. Quite good at my eyeliner but shit at anything else,” Y/N confessed.

Lorren looked thrilled. “Yes, please, yes. Thank you for asking.” Lorren stood up from her chair, giving it a pat for Y/N to make her way over. Lorren complimented Y/N’s skin and makeup, stating it was flawless. Y/N thought it better be she was religious with her skincare. She learned over time less was more and stuck with it. Sometimes, not even Y/N could escape her eyebags when she worked too long in the studio.

She sat perfectly still for Lorren, continuing to talk to Kalia about her new musical release. It was something everyone had been waiting for; they were all incredibly proud. They segway to talking about Pauli, who, thanks to him, had brought them all on from the North America tour to right here in Lisbon and a final show in Italy.

Y/N soon felt the room fall quiet. She got lost in her thoughts when a shutter made her snap her eyes open. It was only Georgia, her photographer, taking photos. “Scared me, Georgie.”

Georgie laughed, “sorry, but you did tell me to capture everything.”

Y/N wondered what she meant by that; before she could ask, Lorren declared her finished. She looked in the mirror and gasped at how perfectly they blended with the purple eyeshadow she used today. Y/N noticed Lorren added glitter to give it that extra glimmer.

She hugged Lorren, thanking her over and over again. She would have continued if Georgie didn’t remind her she had to change. Y/N wished the room luck and rushed to her dressing room, where her outfit was laid out.

One final look in the mirror, and Y/N’s ready to go. She walks out, happy to find Zahara, who came to celebrate the end of tour with her. “You made it!” Y/N cheers.

Zahara wraps her in a hug. “No thanks to stupid United. Canceled my flight twice.”

Y/N winces, “don’t even want to imagine the conversation you had.”

“It was not pretty,” Zahara shares.

Y/N stands side stage with Zahara, chatting while Ash helps secure her mic pack while Zahara makes her promise not to do anything she wouldn’t do. Zahara doesn’t even know what she’s asking of her, especially because she has no idea who Y/N has been kissing behind closed doors.

She rushes on stage; her signature mini skirt is back tonight, paired with a baby tee Harry ordered for her. It’s black and has bedazzled constellations all around, a big reason she asked Lorren for stars on her face. Y/N spent a large portion of her morning with Harry, thanking him for the gift.

Harry watches Y/N sing her heart out to the crowd. This song Harry knows Y/N wrote when she was going through a bad breakup. While it hurts him to think about her with anyone else, he also knows he’s started to write endless songs about her and knows she’s done the same. Zahara greets him courtly, and he wonders if she knows.

“Listen, Harry.” He steps closer, but Zahara never looks at him. “If you do anything–and I mean anything to smear her image, I’ll make you regret it. This girl has fought tooth and nail to be where she is.” Harry sees the fire in her eyes. “Y/N doesn’t open up easily, and I know you wormed your way in. You’re a good guy, but even a good person can break a heart. You know what it’s like to be talked about.”

Harry knows first hand how ruthless the media is. “I would never want that for her.”

Zahara sighs, “I know. She’s special, and I think she’s proved that even more because of this opportunity you gave her.”

“I-I- didn’t expect to fall for her,” Harry defends because he hadn’t, but one conversation with her, and there was no stopping it.

“She’s got that charm,” Zahara laughs. “Look at me here to watch her finish a tour when I’ve got so much to do. You’d do anything knowing you put that smile on her face.”

Harry knows Zahara is right and goes back to watching Y/N. He can’t help it when he takes out his phone to record her because he wants to remember these moments of her on stage. He knows her setlist by heart and knows she’s got three songs left. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shoot a wink towards Zahara, and then they watch her jump off the stage. She makes it look effortless, but he’s worried and moves forward to try to stop her. Zahara shoots her arm out to stop him. “Slow down, rockstar. She’s got this.”

“You’re okay with this?”

“Oh, I’m furious,” she confesses, “but she did it with me in the audience, knowing I’d keep her safe.”

Y/N walks through the barricade, serenading fans and security in front and behind her. It’s the only thing that brings him a bit of comfort. The cameras follow her around, showing her on the large screen, making him laugh because he can see how much she enjoys it. She walks the entire catwalk, hugging fans who are clearly there for her as much as they are for him. She reads a few signs, and by the time she returns to the stage, she has friendship bracelets lining her wrist, a shirt on her shoulder, and two bouquets of flowers. Y/N laughs in their direction, clearly noting the disbelief on both their faces. Y/N continues the show, giving 100% energy until she sings her final note.

She hurries off straight into Zahara’s open arms. While he can’t hear what Zahara is whispering to Y/N, he knows it has to be about him for her face to look flushed and not from her hour-long performance. Zahara pushed her towards Harry, who was waiting for his turn. Y/N settles in his embrace as he kisses her head repeatedly. “You’re mental, absolutely insane.”

Y/N giggles against his chest, “how rude.”

Harry puts his hands on her cheeks, pulling her back the slightest bit to get her to look at him. “You were brilliant! A shining star, you have the crowd in the palm of your hand.” Y/N’s smile shines at his words.

“You’ve got lovely fans. They make it easy.”

He holds back from kissing her but promises to see her later.

Y/N watches him go, not caring that Zahara and the band will tease her endlessly for it. She doesn’t mind one bit.

“I’ve been on tour with one of my favorite artists, Y/N Y/LN.” Harry lets the crowd cheer for her, knowing Y/N is waiting for him to call her onstage. “She’s got amazing songs, and lucky for you all, I asked her to sing a song with me for you all. So everyone welcome Y/N to the stage.” In her outfit from earlier, Y/N walks out, guitar strapped to her chest, waving to the fans. She sees hundreds of phones in the air as she stands at her mic stand. They had rehearsed today, with Harry promising he was ready. He seemed to know the entire song by heart and had his band learn it. “Let’s go!”

Y/N never imagined being on stage singing her dirtiest song with Harry to a sold-out stadium. Y/N can’t seem to look away from him; it has her bringing out all her sensual dance moves when she plays this song. It’s a reason she cut it from her setlist tonight to play it specifically with him. When it comes to an end, Y/N turns to the Love band, giving them a round of applause.

“How about one more?” Harry asks Y/N into the microphone.

She smirks, “I'd be honored.”

Y/N hands off her guitar to Chloe, waiting to pack it away for her. Then, he prances back over as Harry begins ‘Daylight.’ Y/N had always enjoyed this song, the sweetness packed in the lyrics. It's a song about a lover coming and going. While they’re home, he’s happy and full of joy, but once they’re gone, the mood falls, and he’s left missing them. It’s a feeling she’s familiar with, and she knows that Harry has lost a person due to being away for so long. It does make her think about her finished album and how it was influenced by everyone around her, romantical or not.

As she comes over to sing into Harry’s mic, not minding the closeness, the cheers get louder as they stay together. She feels Harry’s eyes burning into the side of her head, and she dances away, letting him continue. When it’s her turn again, she returns to his mic, looking straight at him. She smirks, singing his lyrics. She sees his eyes darken and knows she’s in for a fun night.

Once the song ends, Harry lets the crowd give Y/N a long applause. Harry pulls her in for a tight hug, “thank you for doing this with me.”

Y/N gives him a light kiss on the cheek, thankful her face is hidden from the crowd, “thank you for inviting me.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

Y/N laughs because she feels the same way. “Promise, I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. Go have fun, rockstar.”

She runs off stage straight into June’s teasing arms. Y/N doesn’t even mind not when her thoughts are running wild watching Harry continue with the show.

“Babes, we’ve got to spend the show down there,” Felix begs, pointing to the crowd of fans leaning against the barrier.

Y/N’s eyes widen, “in the pit?”

They nod. Y/N knows they won’t stop until they do, so she compromises with them. They’ll go in between the catwalk and barricade for the last songs.

“I’m down,” Quinn quickly says.

“Can you get Harry to wet us?” June asks seriously.

Dear God. What is she going to do with them?

Once they’re down watching Harry prance around, he changes it up and plays a surprise song that makes them all lose their mind. Followed by screaming their lungs to ‘As It Was,’ nothing better than yelling “Leave America” with a sold-out crowd. By the time Kiwi rolls around, Harry has spotted them and jokes for Y/N to give him her number. There are many oohs in response, but Y/N sends him a wink. The band got what they wished for, and Harry gave them a good splash, one Y/N avoided by hiding under Quinn’s jacket. Harry is about to do his signature exit when he freezes and spots the cup of beer in her hand. She offers it to him as a joke but complies when he signals for her to pass it over. He mouths, “thank you, baby,” and the next thing she knows, he’s doing the whale with her beer. Fuck, if she didn’t want to get him naked now more than ever, as she saw the beer run down his neck and bare chest.

“Fuck me, I’m glad one of us is fucking him,” June mutters to her.

Y/N doesn’t bother correcting her friend. As her friends walk her back, she’s lost in her head because she enjoys being with Harry. Y/N knows she took her time discovering her feelings and allowing herself to fall for Harry; now that she has, it’s all-consuming. She is filled with so much safety and love; she’s used to being overwhelmed, but Harry makes her feel at peace. Having these conversations about what they are to each other is stupid, but she knows she owes it to Harry to tell him how she’s feeling.

She walks to his dressing room to find him changed and has his bag swung on his shoulder, meaning he’s leaving. “Heading out?”

He turns his head when he hears her voice. “Yeah, beat traffic.”

Y/N nods and stays quiet. She knows she’ll see him back at the hotel but feels like this can’t wait.

“Harry, I—”

“H, we got to go,” Jeff interrupts, rushing in behind her.

Harry frowns but doesn’t argue. He stands in front of her, reaching for her hand. He intertwines her fingers between his and pulls her along with him. “Come with me,” he begs.

Y/N begins to tell him she can’t when Quinn swings her bag at her, telling her she’s good to go. Harry gives her a deadpan stare, waiting for her to try to provide him with a reason why she can’t, but decides to give in. “Lead the way, H.”

The car ride to their hotel is quiet. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder as Harry comes down from the night's adrenaline. Her hand rests on his lap. She knows they will leave for Italy tomorrow. While excited for the last show, she’s sad it’s all ending. Y/N and Harry walk in together through a private entrance and say goodnight to Jeff as they head into Harry’s room. Her stuff never made it to her room, and it won’t in Italy either.

Harry heads to the shower while Y/N heads to the sink to remove all her makeup. This all feels domestic to her, doing this routine with Harry as if they’ve done it for years.

“You taking my beer was pretty bold,” Y/N comments when she hears the water shut off.

He dries off before exiting. She sees a towel wrapped around his waist and laughs when she sees it fits him a bit too small. “Thought you were offering it.”

“Ever heard of a cheers,” she teases.

Harry kisses her cheek and promises to warm her side of the bed. While Y//N showers and does her skincare, she thinks of what she will say to Harry. Her mind is going crazy, and she wants to get it in order before she just spills it all to him.

“Baby, you coming?”

Y/N replies to give her a second. She finds Harry sitting in bed, his book on his lap and the blanket untucked, waiting for her to settle in. Y/N kneels on the covers facing Harry, knowing she has to get the words out tonight.

“Need to tell you something,” she breathes out.

Harry looks at her concerned but gives her his undivided attention. “Course, love.”

“I-I like you. I know I’ve said that, but I like waking up with you. I love going on dates with you. Holding hands brings the biggest smile to my face. Your hugs bring me so much love and safety. I enjoy having conversations about everything and nothing, but I also love sitting in silence with you.”

“Y/N,” Harry begins, but she shakes her head. He reaches for her hand and holds it tight.

“I feel like it’s so soon to say these words, but I hope you feel it in every action and touch. I’m head over heels for you, Harry. I-I know I made you wait; I had to figure out my feelings, but I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you. Will you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asks. Once those words are out, she sinks her face in her hands. “God, that’s so fucking cheesy.”

“Hey, hey,” she hears Harry moving, then feels his hands pulling her hands away. He’s careful not to pressure her but lets him see her. “There’s my pretty girl.”

Y/N shakes her head; she really said all that.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I appreciate it. I like knowing where you stand. Do you want to know how I feel?” Y/N nods her head. “Well, love. I’m crazy about you, too. I like sitting with you and watching you play the piano. I love trading books we’ve finished reading because yours always have different annotations for me to find. I like seeing you watching me perform. I love watching you perform for an audience, and I can’t wait to see a show soon where the entire audience is there for you. I’m falling in love, and I know you’ll be there to catch me.”

She feels her eyes well up with tears because Y/N has never been good at expressing her emotions, but with Harry, she’d conquer every fear to make sure she can make him feel loved and seen. She presses her lips against his and melts against the familiar taste. With a soft moan, she shifted close as his mouth opened over hers, and his tongue slid between her lips. She might have initiated the kiss, but Harry seems to be the one who always takes control. She was always okay with that. She tilted her head so he could kiss her more deeply. He didn’t need more encouragement. The kiss became intense; heat flashed through her, making her thighs clench, and while she would love to take this further, she knew they needed to rest.

His hands trailed up her nightshirt, and she broke away to let out a loud moan when she felt him squeeze her ass. “H-h-harry, not tonight,” she managed to make out.

Harry slows his hands, bringing them back to her waist. “But we can kiss,” he asks against her lips.

“All night if you want.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he teases.

Harry pats her ass and helps her get under the covers. Y/N laughs when he turns her to be facing him. He wedges himself between her legs to be close; there’s no way of knowing where she begins, and he ends.

It’s a perfect night.

Italy has always been perfect to Y/N, from the people to the food to the views. While Y/N knows enough Italian to get around and understand it, Harry is basically fluent. He’d been practicing his speech all morning. His only break was to give Y/N one last wake-up call that had her screaming his name.

Y/N and Harry spent a few days roaming Italy together. They were officially a couple and were enjoying it. Harry kissed her every chance he could get. Y/N always had a hold of Harry, whether it be his hand or at the small of his back. It’s clear everyone knows they’re together, not that they made an announcement but because they are always spending time together. Where one goes, the other follows.

June, Quinn, Felix, and Y/N sit together in the green room, discussing their favorite moments from the tour. Quinn said in Amsterdam, some strangers let him join their bar hopping. He ended up finding he could not hold his liquor like they could. Felix shared it was playing at Slane Castle. They heard stories of never thinking it would be them on that stage. June made them all cry by stating that every moment on stage with them was special to her. June is going on a break after this, needing to go home and be with her family, while Y/N accepted that she would miss her best friend. Y/N shared it was exploring new studios while writing her new album.

“You have to play it for us soon!” Felix expresses.

Y/N nudges her friend, “who else would I show first?”

Quinn nudges her. “Someone named Harry.”

“Promise it’s almost done. Think I’m just missing an album name,” she shares, knowing she finished recording most songs.

Before the band can start throwing names at her, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry comes in with the Love band, all holding something behind their back. June narrows her eyes at Harry, not one for surprises, but Y/N knows this will be good.

“Y/N and band, thank you for joining us on an amazing, successful tour this year. I enjoyed listening to you every night,” Harry tells them honestly. Everyone echoes his words. “That being said, we got you a gift.”

They were all presented with a bag, and June and Quinn were quick to rip into it while Felix made sure not to make a mess. Y/N held the gift close to her chest but watched her friends open their presents first. June held a black sweater to her chest. It had her name embroidered on one side and Love on tour on the other. “Shit, we get some too!” June exclaims. “I was so jealous of y’all.”

Quinn pulls out a pair of shoes, “satellite stompers,” to be exact. His smile is wide, and he quickly bounces over to pull Harry in for a hug. “Thanks, man.”

Y/N doesn’t open hers because she was the one to give Harry their sizes, so she’s not expecting anything else.

June turns to Y/N, pointing a finger, “how did he know our sizes?” Y/N grins while June gasps accusingly. “I bitched and moaned about not having one. Is this a pity gift?”

Harry quickly assures her he wanted to give them to all of them in private. Everyone in the crew got some; he meant everyone from the band to Y/N’s photographer. Every person was necessary on this tour, and Harry wanted to make it known with a gift. Harry stepped close to Y/N and gestured for her to open hers. She gives him a suspicious look but does as he asks. She removes the jacket quickly, slipping it on when she spots a bow at the bottom. Y/N looks at him surprised because when she pulls it out, she sees it’s one she had shown him a few weeks ago. It’s an intricate bow with wildflowers embroidered on it. It has unique beading to create this delicate bow.

“The meadow bow,” she whispers, delicately touching the ends.

Harry’s cheeks warm when he sees her expression. Y/N blinks away her tears because it’s unreasonable to cry, but the fact that Harry listened to her when she went on about something as silly as her bows and ribbons. Y/N doesn’t think about what she’s about to do; she only knows she wants to thank Harry. Y/N hugs Harry, but she pulls away quickly, connecting their lips in a kiss. Harry is frozen for a second but promptly responds, both easily sinking into each other. The hollers and cheers make her break away, leaning her head on his chest.

“Sorry, H,” she sighs.

“Don’t mind. Think you should do it again.”

“Not again,” June yells. “You cute together, but I don’t want to see that.”

Harry promises to let them get ready.

“Will you be watching?” Quinn asks.

Harry nods, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

“The entire family is watching,” Gemma chimes in. Harry gasped, not knowing she had arrived.

“Gems!” Harry rushes over to scoop his older sister in a hug. Y/N knows when Gemma says the entire family, she means it. They all promised to sing their hearts out for him. Y/N had met most of them during the few shows in Wembley, but she was merely an opener, and now she is Harry’s girlfriend.

“Come on, Y/N. Mum wants to say hello,” Gemma calls for her as she drags Harry out. Y/N promises not to be long, but the band brushes her off, telling her they already have good company.

Y/N has the best time with Harry and his family. They share laughs about young Harry being nervous to sing in front of a crowd and now ending a tour with over 90,000 people. Anne can’t stop her tears, which makes Harry emotional, too. He stays cuddled at her side. Anne asks Y/N about her tour, and Y/N invites them to opening night. “Don’t know if you’d be able to make it, but it’d be lovely to have you there. My mum and a few cousins are attending.”

Anne reaches over Harry to squeeze her hand, promising to be there. “Course we’ll come. Your mum is lovely. Can’t wait to catch up.”

Starting off a tour in London was the right choice for her because she wants to be in her own bed before she sleeps in a different one each night again. Y/N excused herself, needing to prepare for one final Love on Tour show.

Y/N huddled her band before going on stage. “You are my favorite people. I feel so lucky to do this with you every night. One last night with June, let’s make it unforgettable.”

“I love you,” Felix shouts. They laugh, squeezing each other tight, echoing the words to each other. And with that, Y/N and the band take the stage one final time.

“Italy, you have been an absolute dream. Each night, every crowd welcomed us with open arms, and when you sing back my lyrics, that is something I will never forget. I couldn’t do it alone, though. My amazing, amazing band. Felix, June, and Quinn are my family. Without them, I would not be where I am, and I will never forget that. June is actually taking a break after this tour. She’s going away, but she’ll be back. The spot is open if Sarah Jones is looking for a job.” The crowd laughs while June shakes her head in disbelief but also knows Y/N would never pass up a chance to work with someone at the caliber that Sarah Jones is at. “Most importantly, thank you to Harry Styles for inviting me out on tour. It’s the best choice I could have ever made. You have shown me kindness from the first moment we met. Thank you for allowing me to use your stage each night, but most importantly, thank you for showing me how music inspires you to do good and always do better. This last song is dedicated to you, H.”

Y/N hurries off stage after playing “The Last Man on Earth” and runs straight to the dressing room, where she cries into June’s shoulder. This tour has her saying goodbye to her best friends but opening new opportunities because she knows there is a conversation she’s been dodging for some time now and knowing Harry today won’t end until he gets his way.

“That was beautiful. Every night, honestly.” Y/N steps away from June, wipes away her tears and is thankful she decided not to do her eyeliner tonight, or she’d look worse than she feels. Harry had come to see them all but mostly knew his girlfriend would need a bit of comfort.

“Harry, my man. Thank you,” Quinn answers, pulling him into a hug. Everyone does the same, but Y/N stands frozen. It seems everyone can pick up on the tension and give her a moment alone with him.

Harry hurries over and takes her in his arms. Y/N relaxes in his hold because he’s always had that calming effect on her. “You were wonderful. Had me in tears.”

Y/N giggles against his chest, “stop it.”

“Seriously,” he laughs, and Y/N feels it go through her. “Jeff was recording me, laughing at my tears.”

“Thank you, H. I know you said you’d watch, but knowing you were in the crowd made tonight even more special.”

Harry kisses the top of her head. “It was all you. Don’t know how I will survive without seeing you every day.”

“You can follow me on tour,” Y/N offers.

“Now that’s a thought.”

They settle in silence, neither one having anything to say. Simply enjoying their time together. Y/N doesn’t know how much time passes, but she knows he’s got to get dressed.

“I really like you, Y/N,” Harry whispers into the quiet of the room.

“Harry,” Y/N pulls back to look at him. Those emerald eyes are full of love, and Y/N knows it for her. She has to let herself be happy, and it’s clear Harry is a big part of bringing that joy to her life.

“I like you,” he repeats. “And I’ll keep liking you tomorrow and every day that is to come. I’m letting you know how I feel. We’ve discussed it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t remind you. Will forever be crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about you, too,” Y/N breathes out. “You fill me with so much happiness.”

Harry smirks, “enough to join me on holiday for a few more days?”

She looks at him, confused.

“My family and a few friends are spending time in my home here. If you’d like to join us–join me,” he offers timidly.

“You mean it?”

Harry nods, “nothing better than you in a bikini,” he teases.

She slaps his shoulder, “I’m there.”

“Good.”

Harry kisses Y/N. She is quick to soften beneath him and eagerly reciprocates the kiss. Y/N loves his touch, and with each kiss, she feels herself heat up and knows where this could lead, but there is just no time. “Harry,” she mutters against him. “You’ve got to get ready.”

He sighs against her, “one more.”

Y/N happily agrees.

Y/N can’t stop her hands from shaking. She’s done everything she could think of, from doing math problems in her head to focusing on her breathing, yet nothing is working as she waits for Harry to introduce her.

“I don’t know if many of you know, but I personally requested for Y/N to join us on tour. I didn’t know if she would be available, but my manager told me to have hope, and here we are now. I-I-honestly know she’s one of our generation's best writers and singers. I feel fortunate to have shared this time with her. Something none of you know is that Y/N loves playing my piano. She’s written a lot of her second album on it. So I thought it would be fitting to bring it out and sing with her. Everyone, please welcome Y/N!”

She walks out from behind the stage. Y/N waves at the crowd she had greeted an hour earlier. Y/N feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with; it was something she told the crowd.

“Feel special. Y/N is the definition of calm and collected,” Harry teases. “Now, this is Y/N’s song, and I thought maybe you’d want to hear a bit.”

“It’s called ‘Right Now’. I hope you enjoy.” They had planned this: Harry would play the keys, and Y/N would sing, but for some reason, her nerves were getting the best of her, and Harry started the song for her. Hearing Harry sing her lyrics comforted her because he genuinely enjoyed her music. Her voice blended in with Harry’s before it was her all alone. Y/N stayed on the bench with Harry, feeling too vulnerable to go out to the crowd. It was insane debuting a song to a crowd that maybe wouldn’t relate to her words, but she sang with every emotion she could pour out for the odd chance that someone did. Y/N felt Harry’s eyes on her and turned to smile at him. Thanks to Harry, she finished this album and finished this song. These songs weren’t written about him; they have him intertwined in the stories she’ll share about this album.

Before she knows it, she’s singing the final lyric, and Harry plays the last note. “Everyone, Y/N!” The applause is thunderous, making Y/N tear up. She tries to imprint this moment in her mind because she never wants to forget it. Harry walks her off as the piano is taken away, though none of the fans know it will return by the night's end. Harry leaves her backstage, wiping away the few tears that escaped her.

“Thank you, that was beautiful,” he kissed her cheek.

He goes to walk away, but Y/N pulls him back in by his vest and kisses him. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, holding her to him as he devoured her mouth. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she breathes out.

Harry is tempted to kiss her again, but he knows if he does, he’ll get lost in her and can’t do that when he has a show to return to. “It’s me. I’m the lucky one. ” He runs back, asking the crowd if they’re ready to do some dancing. The cheers are enough for him to continue on.

The show goes on, and Y/N has the time of her life. She goes out after her song to dance and sing with his family in the crowd. Harry finds them all easily, but the tears don’t stop when he takes his time to thank his mum and sister. To thank his friends who have been there from the start, Y/N knows he’s including her in the thank you’s because he reminds her time and time again that she changed his life in a way he never expected.

Y/N knew about the ballad he would be playing on the piano. It’s something they worked on together, but something she didn’t expect was the quietness of the crowd. There is no sound except a few people crying as this lovely melody fills the area.

Harry walks off the stage in tears, and the band soon follows. Y/N knew she’d be emotional, but she can’t seem to stop crying. She walks hand in hand with June backstage, where she sees Harry hugging his mother and moving on to his sister. They all huddle in Harry’s dressing room as they erupt in cheers, celebrating the end of the tour. Y/N knows she’ll find a minute with him alone but, for now observes Harry being showered in the love he deserves. The room slowly began to filter out, giving Harry a moment to shower and change out of his clothes, but before she could leave, she felt someone grab her wrist, and the door shut behind her. Harry stood in front of her dimpled smile on his face. His emerald eyes were shining bright.

Happiness looked good on him.

“Congrats on a successful tour, Harry!” Y/N wrapped him in a hug, aware of his bare chest.

His arms held her tight as he swayed her side to side. “Thank you for writing that song with me.”

“Our first of many,” she promises.

Harry breathes her in, letting them stand in silence, soaking in the moment. This is a day they both would look back at fondly. It’s a story they’ll tell their future children.

“Thank you for bringing love to me,” Harry whispers. He loved touring and, at times, found it lonely, but ever since Y/N joined, it’s like he found his missing half. He never felt alone because he knew she was always close by.

Y/N shakes her head, “think it was all you.”

Harry ponders for a second. He was the one with the idea to bring her on as a tour opener. “Think it was.”

He connects his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss. She feels him grin against her as he pushes her against the door. His hands roam her back before resting on her waist while hers find a home in his hair. Y/N had been craving him since he kissed her halfway through his show. She kissed him, hoping her mouth said everything she hadn’t spoken aloud.

Y/N knows this is the next part of her story. It’s not ending or starting; she’s simply turning the page to create a new chapter. Y/N has no idea where she’ll be in one year, let alone five, but one thing she does know for certain is that she loves Harry.

thank you for reading 💜💜💜 please feel free to send me a message of what you loved from the story

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles stories #harry story #harry fluff #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry angst #harry styles fic rec

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jd07201990 · 3 months

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I watched from the kitchen door, with a wide grin on my face, as my previously combative, nerdy Stepson watched his laptop, eyes glazed, for the umpteenth time these last 6 months. Nobody would ever remember tiny, snarky little Theodore. They’d only ever see Theo, this bulky, sweaty brute, lifting and fucking his way through college, just like any red-blooded young man should. And it was all thanks to my buddy Sarge’s “attitude adjusting” self help videos, he custom designs for a slew of shady clientele after he retired. Mostly foreign governments, some loony cults here and there. But for me, he’d done a personal favor. I filled out a details chart, every last trait, from his voice to his hair, posture, everything. I thought about everything he’d said about “those sweating, grunting behemoths” that all got into school with free-ride scholarships for athletics. Theo was going to helplessly, desperately, insatiably grow, eating and grunting his way to 215, the weight I’d maintained all through college. He’d also dress, walk, and talk like the testosterone (and a slew of supplements Sarge gave me with the videos) filled cocky young male you see frequenting college courtyards, throwing footballs between bros and chasing pretty sorority girls like lovesick puppies. Their dumb, dopey demeanor would seen pour from Theo’s mouth, his shoulders back, pecs out casually. He’d grope and adjust himself, sitting down with his legs wide no matter where he is. His diet would change, adding raw calories and protein, chuckling dumbly with the other gym rats as he gulps down creatine powder, dry, and chugs a shake to wash it down. The supplements Sarge gave me to add to his meals, ensured he’d bulk up fast, and solid. As long as I fed him enough, which I was warned would triple our groceries, at least, He’d gain the weight, and the thickness I was looking for, while his body would be thrust through a second puberty, allowing for the subliminals to work on other, aspects, of his masculinity. Let’s just say, we all know what they say about dudes with big feet. And his will be a hefty size 14. Too bad for his mother, our house is also going to reek like a Varsity locker room, because those feet, and the rest of him, will be all raw male, all the time. Pumped and ready, brimming with energy, like a Golden Retriever, if it were a 6’2” behemoth. The toughest bit was straightening him out. Giving him that good old fashioned, hot-blooded straight male instinct, making him drool over the coeds and cheerleaders, chasing girls like every young man should. The videos worked their magic well, the supplements setting his balls ablaze, churning out testosterone to fuel his primal need for aggression, for hard work, and effort, and sweat and sex. He fought it until his best friend Jenna, without realizing what her playful teasing was doing to him, had been on the couch with him, and had leaned over, and nibbled his ear one night while watching a movie. He'd lost his gold star that night. Quickly, and with all the confusion and passion that comes with young love and first times. Jenna had been stunned when he’d practically pounced on her, and from there, hours passed, and they wore themselves out right there on the couch. The next morning, he was mortified, but he couldn’t help but kiss her when she woke and complimented him on his… performance. It's been 6 months, and you’d never know he wasn’t always a muscled up, sweaty, straight boy, chasing girls at school, slacking off in class, and riding his new Lacrosse Scholarship that Sarge so nicely arranged when Theo got big and dumb enough to join the team. It seems Sarge knows quite a few coaches, Alumni, and Board members with a good bot of influence. It also seemed the school’s Jock population was skyrocketing, coincidentally at the same time as Sarge added a pool, an extension, and a garage full of classic cars to his house…

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longing-for-rain · 9 days

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regarding aang becoming offended bc of his portrayal as a woman in ember island players, i think his anger was justified on that specific occassion? I mean, the fire nation was mocking his gentle nature and pacifism by portraying him as a blithering naive idiot who never took things seriously and the belittling of his culture and beliefs. This is one of the worst episodes for him, dont get me wrong, but in this case, femininity was utilized as a source of derision and weakness imo. I dont say this with bad intentions, just thought i would write this bc i also condemned aang for the same thing before

If that was what Aang was upset about I might be inclined to agree, but everything he says and does throughout that episode points to the contrary. Aang doesn’t say anything about the incorrect portrayal of his culture and personal values. Here is what he does say:

[Note: the above expression is before the actress hardly says anything so he’s clearly just mad about the fact that she’s female]

Aang: [angrily] Is that a woman playing me?

Aang: I don't do that! That's not what I'm like! And I'm not a woman!

[Note: the official script includes the emphasis; again, it’s very obvious that he’s most bothered by being played by a woman]

Then this exchange:

Toph: I don't know, you are more in touch with your feminine side than most guys.

Aang: [Standing up, angrily] Argh!

Katara: Relax, Aang. They're not accurate portrayals. It's not like I'm a preachy crybaby who can't resist giving overemotional speeches about hope all the time. [Everyone looks at her] What?

Aang: [Turns around and sits down. Sarcastically.] Yeah, that's not you at all.

You know what I love about this conversation is that is proves two things at once. Firstly, yet again, it’s clear that being portrayed by a woman is what is most upsetting to Aang. Secondly, his reaction (and, honestly, insult) to Katara’s values here shows that he’s not thinking that deeply about this. It has nothing to do with values. Aang is offended at the idea that he is being portrayed by a woman and with more “feminine” qualities, which honestly plays well with his creepy, possessive behavior with Katara later this same episode.

And I actually do like the fact that you brought up femininity being used as “a source of derision and weakness” because guess what! That’s the definition of femininity itself. Femininity doesn’t mean simply being a woman; femininity is the social behaviors and roles that women are expected to fulfill. Which is why I don’t have any sympathy for a man who is offended by being called feminine or compared to a woman because it’s reflective of a deeply misogynistic attitude on his part. If Aang thinks femininity is so degrading and weak, what does that say about the fact he expects his crush to behave that way? I mean, this is what he thinks of Katara, through his own perspective:

So yeah, that’s my question. If being compared to a woman is so insulting and humiliating to Aang, what does that say about how he intuitively views actual women? Why does he think he’s above that treatment but women aren’t? People act like I’m crazy for saying that he exhibits toxic masculinity this episode but this only furthers that point.

Oh and before someone jumps in here and acts like this goes both ways, let me point you to this:

Toph’s reaction to finding out she’s being played by a big, buff, stereotypically-masculine man. She’s thrilled! Why? Because we are products of a misogynistic society and therefore intuitively view being compared to a man as a compliment and a woman as an insult. The respective roles assigned to each are not equal. Masculinity and femininity were never equal and the system was deliberately created that way. You can see this idea ingrained in the writing of this episode because it’s a bias we all hold to some degree, including the writing and creative team here.

So I’m sorry, but considering the bias clearly present within the writing team and the way the characters behave this episode, it’s clear to me that Aang’s reaction has nothing to do with his culture and everything to do with his misogyny.

#besides if we’re talking culture #supposedly he’s also meant to avoid earthly attachment and possession #which is not in line at all with his treatment of katara #anti kataang #canon critical #aang critical #atla #avatar the last airbender #ember island players #meta #zutara #katara #toph #fandom salt

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leviathans-watching · 11 months

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Haluuuu I was waiting for this day!! I was about to request something from you but it was close😭 so now that it's open please hear me outt🥰🥰

Can I request a Headcanon fluff with the obey me boys or side characters reaction to their MC and kid having a sweet moment?

You can do it whenever you want I'm willing to wait!💜 Honestly your one of ny fav writers in this app! Your so good I hope you continue this with Passion 💜💜💜

you and your kid

includes: the brother x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated g | m.list

a/n: omggg i have such bad baby fever rn and this made it worse,,, and it was so hard giving some of them sons they're all such girl dads imo

please rb <33

➳ lucifer watches you hold the spoon near your daughter’s mouth, cooing at her as she takes a bite of the human-world mashed goop. disgusting as the food looks, you and your daughter look quite the opposite, and he can’t help but smile as you gently wipe at her mouth. a fruitless endeavor, to be sure, as your guys’ daughter is one messy eater, but the care and love in your actions warms him all the same. how did he get so lucky to enjoy these moments? surely mundane seeming to some, but to him, they mean the world.

➳ mammon shuts the car door, stretching. man, it is good to be home! but seeing you open the front door, welcoming him in with his daughter on your hip is much better. you wave with a smile, and upon seeing him, your daughter starts to squirm, masking grabby hands in his direction. booking it up to you, mammon takes your daughter, pressing a big kiss on her forehead, then leans in to kiss you. “i missed you,” he says. “both of you.” your daughter squeals happily, tugging on his hair, and mammon lets her, basking in both of your presences.

➳ levi steps outside, on the hunt for you and your son. you’d both disappeared and once checking the house he knew you must be in the yard. the sound of a plastic bat hitting a ball tells him he’s right, and he makes his way around the corner. “how goes it?” he calls, and you look up. you’ve been teaching your son how to play whiffle ball, as he’d expressed interest in joining the neighborhood t-ball team, something levi was content to leave in your hands. as he speaks, your son winds up for another swing, sending the ball bouncing across the grass. you cheer and clap and levi can’t help but cheer too.

➳ satan wakes up the the baby crying, rolling over and out of bed. you’re already up, trying to comfort her, and as he joins you, he hears you singing softly, a nonsense piece that you’ve no doubt made up on the spot. “how long have you been up?” he asks, taking your guys’ daughter from you and holding her close. “i can take it from here, love. go back to bed.” you ignore his words, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he huffs out a laugh. “fine, fine, i’ll take care of you both.”

➳ asmo blinks as he meets your eyes, not expecting to see some very, uh, artistic makeup covering your face. lipstick is smeared across your chin and bright blue glitter is across your cheeks, but as you grin up at him he can’t help but think you’re as attractive as always. “oh, is it makeover time?” he asks mildly. “she takes after me, i guess. an eye for beauty and all.” you laugh, and your daughter runs into the room, beaming proudly. “this was your work?” he asks, scooping her up into his arms. “amazing!” he says as you giggle, and continues to shower her with compliments.

➳ beel wakes up to his bed shaking and looks up to see his son crawling across it. you’re in the doorway, a tray in hands, and beel can smell that it’s breakfast. “good morning, kiddo,” he says sleepily, lifting the blanket so your son can snuggle in next to him. “breakfast in bed? i’m spoiled.” you smile, setting the tray down on the bedside table, and beel can see the misshapen pancake hearts that are no doubt the product of hard work. before you can leave, beel moves the covers again, and you sigh warmly, climbing back into bed as well, your son squished in the middle.

➳ belphie feels a small hand slip into his and looks down. it’s, of course, his daughter, who always insists on holding both of your hands whenever you walk somewhere. you laugh at the familiar action, and he gives you a quelling look. “are you excited to go the park?” he asks your daughter, and she nods excitedly, full of energy. he resigns himself to hours of swing-pushing and tag-playing but consoles himself with the fact that you’ll be there too, even if it is only to take videos while he’s forced to run around and play.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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soccer-love · 1 year

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Hiii mate, could make a request where the reader is a singer and write a song for her ex (the player you want or if difficult to choose could be Jill roord) and you decide if makes a happy or sad ending (the song: if you love her by forest blakk)

If you lover her

Jill Roord x reader

Jill tried to take a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut so she didn't need to see the big headline of the article she just read.

"Y/N Y/L/N releases single - old lover or new heartbreak?"

It was only a seven lines long article, trapped between an Interview with Taylor Swift and an advertisement for Harry Styles new tour.

Even though she knew that this was a terrible idea, she opened YouTube and searched for the new song.

The moment she head the soft voice again, singing the first line of the song, a million different thought rushed through her head.

Memories of old days.

Days that were almost forgotten.

And in the last coroner of her heart she could remember the feeling she had back then.

"Take it. If she gives you her heard don't you break it."

She felt tears forming in her eyes.

"Let your arms be a place she feels safe in"

Man she could remember the many times, she laid in your arms, feeling safer then at any other place in the world. Her head pressed in your neck, or resting on your chest. Forgetting the world around her, just relaxing.

"She always has trouble falling asleep."

The stressful days, packed with training, recovery, games and media stuff, we're getting more. At night, when she was laying in bed, the thoughts in her head just wouldn't shut up. The only thing that really helped here, was when she could sleep with her head on your chest and focusing on the sound of your heartbeat.

"And she likes to cuddle, while under the sheets"

Cuddling was for her, like the most intimate thing ever. More than kissing or having sex. From the outside she looked like a hard and funny person but inside she was actually a massive softy. And she loved just laying on your bed, hidden under the sheets and cuddled close to you.

"She loves Pop songs and dancing"

Jill loved the many dances you had, when she just randomly put on a playlist and started to swing her hips until it became a full dance while singing loud to the music. And she did that in the most random moments, while cooking dinner, making breakfast, brushing her teeth, getting dressed or just when she was bored while working out.

"and bad trash TV"

Oh yes, the many night you spend awake, or the many rainy days you two spend on the couch, watching whatever was on TV. Sometimes she would turn off the sound and make her own dialogs to the scenes.

"There's still a few other things"

"She loves love notes and babies"

Since your older sister already had two children and you were the godmother of both of them, you spend a lot of time with them. And Jill loved them with all her heart. The older one, Jenny was five years old when you broke up and loved soccer and everything that was related to the Frauen Bundesliga. The younger, Christoper was only two at the time and he loved Jill and Jill loved him.

"And likes giving gifts"

From every, really every place they played, she brought something with her. A expensive bottle of wine, from Rome. A scarf with little Eiffel towers on it, from Paris. A cookbook for Tapas from Barcelona and a red wool sweater from Sweden. And so much more, she loved gifting things to you.

"Has a hard time accepting, a good compliment."

"She loves her whole family, and all of her friends."

There was nothing Jill loved more than her family and her friends where part of her family, her team too. And she would do anything to protect her family.

"So if you're the one she lets in. Take it. If she gives you her heart. Don't you break it. Let your arms be a place. She feels safe in. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She'll love you. If you love her. On days when. It feels like the whole. World might cave in. Stand side by side. And you'll make it. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She'll love you. If you love her like that."

Durning the refrain she felt tears running down her cheeks, of curse this song could be about anyone. A person you had dated before her, someone you dated after her, but deep in her heart she knew it. She knew that this song was about her. About your story.

Kiss her with passion As much as you can

"Kiss her with passion, as much as you can."

She remembered the lots of kisses you shared, she loved kissing you. And you two had so many different ways to kiss. Soft and slow, with love, passionate and heated. Something else in every situation. Morning kisses where different then good nights and they where different then good luck kisses or kisses after a match. And of curse there where the kisses that you shared in spicy situations.

"Run your hands through her hair, whenever she's sad"

Jill remembered the night, they got kicked out of the European championship. You where with her the whole time, letting her cry in your arms and comforting her through the whole thing.

"And when she doesn't notice, how pretty she is, tell her over and over, so she never forgets."

It was probably one of the things you said the most to her, every day after she got dressed, after the matches when she was so sweaty and feeling dead she almost couldn't believe it.

And then again, the refrain. Jill already knew that she loved and hated that song at the same time.

As it ended, she quickly closed YouTube and opened google, searching for your next concert.

It was only two days until.

And before she could change her mind she bought one of the last available tickets.

----

After the last song, one about a couple getting married and spending there live together, people where throwing roses at the stage.

It was the moment you allowed your self to take a last look at the crowd and then you noticed her.

Standing in the middle, not screaming or celebrating, just standing there, smiling.

In her blue LFDY Hoodie, that you bought her so many years ago.

She looked down at the rose in her hand, a white pice of paper tied to it, before she threw it on stage.

Like after every show you picked up some of the roses, hers too, before saying "Good Night.", and leaving to go to the backstage rooms.

"Y/N the-"

"Not now." You cut your manager Brian off and walked into the room you used as a room to get ready and if you needed some alone time before the shows.

You gave him the bouquet of roses, only keeping the one from Jill, before closing the door behind you.

"Y/N, I know you don't like second chances, but please let us talk. We're staying at the same hotel, I'm waiting at the bar. Love J-"

She was right, you hated second chances.

But there was so much that you wanted to say to her.

You regretted that break up so much.

You both did.

You two never really had a fight until that one night.

It was a rainy night in London, Jill came home really late.

And from the moment she walked through the door, you knew something was up.

"I got offered to play for VFL Wolfsburg." she explained, you knew what that meant.

She was going back to Germany.

And you couldn't do long distance. It was already hard when she was away with Arsenal and you hated the days when she was away with the National Team.

You just had signed a contract with a producing company in London for two more albums. You couldn't leave that.

Without really talking about it, you two knew this was the end.

And by the time of summer, Jill had moved out of your shared apartment. With all of her stuff.

Her cloths, her sneaker collection, her soccer stuff, even her coffee machine.

It was like the live had moved out with her.

---

You hurried to get back to your hotel and refused to talk to anyone about what was up with you.

When you arrived at the hotel bar, you scanned the room, searching for her when you noticed a women sitting at the end of the bar.

There she was.

"Hey." You said and she turned around, she had changed into a black suit, making her look even more beautiful.

"Hi." she answered and it felt like haven, hearing her voice again.

"Can I?" You asked, pointing at the chair next to her.

"Yeah of curse, what do you wanna drink?"

"A Coke please." You answered and she ordered it for you.

"How are you?" she says, after the barkeeper placed the drink in front of you.

"I'm good. Any you?"

"Yeah me too." she says.

You open your mouth to say something but she cuts you off.

"Y/N. I don't wanna do small talk. I came because I need to talk to you"

"About what?"

"The song, If you love her was it about me?"

"Yes." you say, unable to form proper sentences.

"Why?"

"I....I thought it would help me to get over you but I cant. I'm still so in love with you."

"Oh Y/N." she sighs, happy that you still feel that way but also sad.

"I'm sorry that I left, I'm sorry that I didn't asked you to try it with me."

"No I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just let you go, I should have fought for you." you say and she nods.

"I know that there is nothing, that I- that we can make to, just get back to this moment, but I would be willing to start over with you." she says and softly slides her hand on top of yours.

"Me too, I want us back."

"So, everything is on beginning now." she says and you nod.

"I'm Y/N." you induce yourself and hold your hand out for her.

"I'm Jill, nice to meet you." she answers, laughing.

#jill roord #vflwolfsburgfrauen #frauen bundesliga #arsenal wfc #jill roord x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #oranje leeuwinnen x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #lgbtq #wlw

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itsohh · 1 year

Text

Second Attempt

A/N: Female reader, ah my beloved.

Summary: Simon finally finds that perfect chance to ask that big question again, this time on his own terms. Despite Gaz and Soap's attempts to try 'help'.

Word count: 2395

Warnings: none

AO3 Masterlist Series Masterlist

"Still thinking about how you're going to ask her?" Ghost eyes flashed to Soap's grin as the pair of them leaned on the side wall. Their eyes were on you, bent over the pool table in front of them while Gaz stood next to you partially leaning on his cue. The dim lights above you shadowed your face perfectly, putting that determined expression on display.

"Keen eye as ever Soap." There was a clink as you hit the white ball, forcing it to sink a ball in much to your deadlight. Simon's eyes were focused on the way your lips curled and your eyes scrunched up in glee. Next to you, Gaz patted your shoulder, a compliment on his lips. Your eyes flashed towards Simon's way, giving the man a wink before you strut over to him, confidence oozing off you.

"You two got to up pick up your game." You hit the side of Soap's shoulder and the telltale sound of the pool balls colliding clinked behind you.

"I think we are fine if you teamed up with Gaz." Simon nodded towards the tables. Whipping around you saw the half-shrug Gaz did.

"Hard luck Kyle, head up dude. Want another drink?" Gaz shook his head and you turned to Soap and Ghost. "Drinks?"

"Yeah, I'll have another one thanks."

"Gin?" Your laugh was almost contagious as you walked backward, amused at Soap's disturbed face. "LT?" Ghost lift the half-full drink next to him in silent communication. You nodded and turned away, disappearing towards the bar.

"So, what are you going to do? Exspensive restaurant? Concert? Or just going to settle for your deathbed again? Next time you're getting Gaz to do it."

"Don't quit your day job to become a comedian." Ghost let out a small sound under his throat.

"Rough crowd." Johnny took a few steps towards the pool table, drapping his body over it as he lined up his cue. Eye focused on the balls there was a solid clink as the cue hit the white ball, sending it into the two balls. He swore under his breath as the ball tethered on the very edge but didn't sink into the side.

"If you wait too long she might think you don't want to marry her." He picked himself off the table and turned to face the man. Ghost's brows narrowed at the man. "If you want help I'm happy to wingman for you. I'm sure Gaz and Price will too if need be." John spun around the Gaz who had been patiently waiting for your return. "Isn't that right Gaz?"

Gaz's head snapped up at the sound of his name and his eyes darted between the two men. "What am I about to agree to?"

"Helping LT here with proposing." Gaz's brows shot up in surprise but didn't miss a beat.

"I'd be happy to help."

"There's nothing to help with. The offer is appreciated Gaz…" Ghost's jaw locked as he spoke, a look at Kyle before his eyes snapped to John's. "...John. I have things under control." His voice was more pictures after he said John's name. A threat behind his voice as he dared Soap to continue. Yet his threats did little, the Sergeant was rather used to his antics.

"Hey, no worries. Think we are waiting to see you put a ring on her. She is too, you know."

"Soaps right." Kyle piped up, leaning on the table. "She's always stealing looks at you."

"More than usual." Soap partnered up with Gaz in the conversation.

"She's not subtle. I already know." Ghost's eyes snapped to the two men and they glanced at each other. "Right if the two of you would leave it alone she's almost back." He leaned forward and the two men locked their lips shut.

Just as Ghost said, a moment later you appeared from the crowd, drinks in hand. "One good drink for me…" You twirled the straw inside your drink taking a sip from it before you placed it next to Ghosts.

"And one shitty drink for Soap." You handed the other glass to him, to his offence.

"Shitt drink? Compared to what you're drinking?! What's that? A tequila sunrise?"

"I like my drinks drinkable John."

"I don't believe you-"

"You don't even know what I'm drinking how you even-"

"I can just tell by the look-" Your bickering was interrupted by Ghost who picked up your drink and started to drink from the straw. The pair of you both went silent and watch him, shocked.

Seconds ticked by and he put the drink back down. You leaned in, not only you and Soap but Gaz too.

"Tastes fine."

"In your stupid face." You immediately jabbed a finger into John's chest and he snatched the drink from the table. Before you could protest he brought the straw to his lips and started to suck. Almost immediately he put it down and darted his eyes between the two of you.

"This is just orange and pomegranate juice." He accused.

"Yeah so? It tastes good." You snatched the drink from his hands and started to put the straw to your mouth when you saw Gaz's eyes on the drink. A sigh left your mouth and you held it out to him. "Would you like to try Gaz-" Before you could finish saying his name he took hold of it and quickly sipped on the drink.

"That's pretty refreshing actually."

"See you, boys, tomorrow, try not to stay up too late." You waved with a smile at Gaz and Soap who split from you and Ghost.

"Yes, mum." John winked with a mock salute and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Gnight Doc, Ghost." Gaz waved goodbye and soon it was just the pair of you. The pair of you started to walk together, the bright night sky guiding your way.

A shiver ran over your bare shoulders and you fought back the urge to shake. Your movements didn't go unnoticed though, silently Ghost removed his hoodie and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"Bring a coat next time." Despite his slightly annoyed statement, you could have sworn you heard the smile in his voice.

"But if I bring a coat then I don't get to have your hoodie. Feels like home." You grinned, your head pushed against his shoulder with a big grin.

"You can just take one of my hoodies from my room.”

“Yeah but this one’s nice and warm now.” Your voice came out as a whine, one that Simon rolled his eyes in false annoyance.

“And that one would have warmed up too if you spent the entire night wearing it.”

"Too late now, no point in thinking what ifs. We can only look forward to the future."

"You can learn for the future. If you're not going to learn, then you can return it." He huffed much to your amused state.

"Ahhh I could orrrrr…" Your voice trailed off before you suddenly broke out into a sprint, pushing off him. A mad dash into the night which at first Ghost rolled his eyes to but decided to humour you either way.

In a half-jog, he followed. You were fast, incredibly faster. Yet, Ghost was always somehow faster. Right away you knew he allowed you to stay out of his range, that it was a game. One he was willing to play.

The game stepped up a notch when you came to the corner of a pair of buildings. Your legs carried you up the side of a gradually increasing fence to give you the height to jump on top of the industrial dumpsters. Next, you boosted yourself off one corner of the brick building before you climbed up the other side. Your fingers had done a good job at keeping your grip and soon you were up on top of the building. A small victory in Ghost's baggy jumper. Down on the ground, he tilted his head, his eyes darted on your path as he figured out how he wanted to approach your lead.

Squatting down at the top you couldn't help but poke out your tongue, a taunt came out with ease. "Come on big guy, let's see if your bite is as bad as your bark."

At your voice, his eyes snapped up to yours. A second later he moved. You couldn't help but watch in slight awe as he effortlessly sprinted up to the dumpster, large strides before he jumped up without the extra boost. To keep his momentum, he continued up the wall until finally, he climbed up over the edge of the building.

When he finally neared you did you snap into action and attempt to run away. The man wasn't having it of course. Simon's hand snaked around your waist which caused a squeal to escape your lips, one that turned into a bubbly giggle. He dragged you back slightly before he fell back onto the ground into a sit. A sit he pulled you into so that you sat on his lap while he leaned against an inactive aircon unit.

His grip never loosened, in fact, it only tightened as he secured you against his chest. Comfortable with you between his legs, Simon rest his head on your shoulder while you settled down. A second later, Simon used one of his hands to remove the half mask from his face. You managed to glimpse it when you looked down, it now sat on the ground next to your leg.

"It's nice here, you can see the stars." His deep voice was quiet in your ear, relaxed. A tone you didn't hear too often. Truly at peace.

"Remember when we were out in that forest?" Your voice softly asked. Despite being in the said situation many times before, Simon knew exactly what you were talking about.

"Yeah, could really see the stars then." He hummed, his nose against your neck before his lips soon graced your skin. A small kiss that had your heart skip a beat. One arm still wrapped tight around you, his free hand reached into his pocket for a moment before it tangled with your hand. A small object passed from him to you, it had you pause and he let out a breath.

"Open it." A request. His hand left yours to sit on your thigh and you looked down. Slowly you opened the small box. The moonlight revived the contents, a ring. One that you had seen once before but this time the threat of his death wasn't just around the corner.

A simple band with engraving in the middle.

"Marry me." The words finally left his lips. He had finally found the right moment.

"Who loves wins." You read the engravement which had you pause. "Is that…" he smiled against your neck at your recognition of the edited motto.

"It is. Price, joked that when I first told him that our relationship was… a little more than professional."

"Ah, when you first told him you were fucking my brains out huh?" He chuckled against your neck at your crude paraphrasing.

"Rightly said. Can't deny, I certainly feel like I'm winning right now with you here."

"Aww Simon." You turned in his arms and he loosened his grip to allow you to face him. Your hands found his bare cheeks as you looked into his raccoon eyes. "Of course, I'll Marry you."

His lips curled up for a moment before they descended against yours. The faintest of flavours from his drink still lingered and you couldn't help but smile at him. Simon's arms settled around you, pulled flush against his chest you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What took you so long?" You managed to get out between breaths, between kisses.

"To ask again?"

"Soap asked the first time for you, that didn't count."

"Had to find the right moment." He gave in.

"And this is it? No fancy restaurant? No massive surprise in front of a crowd?"

"You wouldn't want a fancy restaurant. You wouldn't want a crowd. " His lips pressed against yours and you couldn't help the bubbly feeling that had consumed your chest, your very core. An undeniable excitement filled with love and adoration for the man.

"This is the right moment, a smile on your face, just us. In our line of work that doesn't happen too often." That way he looked at you, it was like you were the very soul of the Earth. The last beautiful thing left. "I saw that smug look on your face and thought how could I not marry that?"

Your head tilted back in a large laugh that exposed your neck to him. "You're the worst." Your left hand let go of his neck to lightly hit his chest in play fight.

"Put it on." He chuckled, a grin settled on his face.

You blinked as you looked down, the box still open in your hand. Mounted on his lap, you fully let go of him to pick the ring up. Filled with adrenaline, you could stop the way your hand started to shake as you held the ring out to put it on. Simon stopped though, he pulled the gloves from his hands and took the ring out of yours. One hand cupped yours to hold it steady, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles while the other slowly slid the ring onto your finger.

It fit perfectly, not too tight, not too loose. Just right. "You know my ring size? I don't even know my ring size."

"I hold these hands enough to know the size of your fingers."

"Simon…" A dopey expression spread across your face and you practically flung yourself against him, peppering kisses all over his face. "People think you're a big scary Ghost but your just my big teddy bear aren't you?"

Simon attempted to talk but couldn't due to the laugh that bubbled in his chest as you continued your assault all over his face. He suddenly turned the pair of you to the side and fell back against the concrete roofing. With his arms around you, he settled you to the side in a position that the pair of you often woke up to. Tomorrow would bring another storm, but for the moment, you could enjoy each other's company.

#ghost x reader #cod #cod x reader #simon riley #mw2 #mw2 x reader #modern warfare #call of duty

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apples4day · 21 days

Text

BLAME || Yandere! TDWT x Fem! Reader

2/2 EPISODE TWO (Walk Like An Egyptian- Part 2)

This is part 4 of my series, go read the other parts if u haven’t!

Your team was behind team Amazon, looking absolutely ridiculous all stacked up on one teeny tiny goat. They were struggling with making the camel go faster, you were struggling to trust Alejandro to not let you fall.

"We're gonna go win the race now, see ya!" Heather stuck her tongue out at us.

"Eat sand losers!" Courtney smiled.

"Such witty remarks from such fiercely intelligent women, I'm both humbled and intrigued." Alejandro complimented. Courtney shooed him,

"Nice try but I'm with Duncan."

"And what a pity it is that you should give yourself to a quitter, who doesn't deserve you."

Alejandro was moving a lot as he talked and you were starting to get even more nervous.

"That's not- Duncan is totally- uh- you're just...will someone hurry this camel up!" Courtney was at a loss for words.

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER

"Oh he's good. Too good..seriously what is his deal? He is just so..perfect. Don't even get me started on Y/n. UGHH"

CONFESSIONAL- HEATHER; ENDED

So that's his game plan? Flirting with every girl here? As expected from him. He's got the looks for it I'm not gonna lie. You thought, staring at his face.

"If you want you can take a picture," he suggested, winking.

"What? No. You have a bug on your face." You lied.

"Do I?" He smirked.

"Yes. Oh! Oops...you're the bug." You shrugged and he looked a little surprised.

I don't usually care when someone insults me...but that felt different. A lil peak into his thoughts 🤰

Man you suck at being nice, he's just so easy to be mean to. No matter how badly you want to win.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed water. A big blue body of water. Tapping Alejandro softly on the head, you leaned in to whisper what you discovered.

"What? Do you want a kiss señorita?" He puckered up and you cringed. "No! Look, the Nile." You pointed out. He stopped and looked, smiling like he was the one who found it?? Narcissist. Man what a weirdo this guy is. You thought to yourself.

"Hold on everyone, I'm changing our route." He bucked his hips (Into me😈) in another direction and you grabbed his head. I will NOT die because I fell off a human tower. Especially because some guy moved his hips and I fell off his shoulder.

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO

"Perhaps it would've been kind to show the girls team which way to go but you've seen my team, we need all the help we can get."

Alejandro crossed his arms.

"For some reason Y/n hasn't fallen for me. I think my best plan would be to get into an alliance with her. She isn't very social so I'll be her only option."

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO; ENDED

"There's the finish line!" Tyler pointed.

"Yeah, ON THE OTHER SIDE."

Crocodiles jumped out of the water, "flying abilities anyone?" You joked.

Chris said something you couldn't hear. Owen couldn't hear him either,

"WHAT?! SPEAK UP!!"

Chris kept speaking, Owen still couldn't hear. "Did you guys get any of that?"

Chris snapped his fingers and had a weird megaphone passed to him.

"I SAID, WELCOME TO THE THIRD FINAL EGYPTIAN CHALLENGE! BASKET CASES."

It was so loud that the wind got way stronger. Noah was almost blown away and had grabbed you for support. Everyone's eyes were wide open because of shock. Owen ducked and covered his head. You and Noah were basically cuddling.

There's that vanilla scent again. He thought, holding you.

Chris explained that we would have to make a boat blah blah blah.

You were a bit zoned out and only caught the last part of his sentence. Noah's hands around you were kinda the only thing you could think about, especially with your face pressed into his body. Finally zoning back in, you heard the last part of Chris' sentence. "Aka goat face over there!"

Tyler looked insulted, "hey!" You gently removed Noah from you and put your hand on Tylers shoulder, "I believe he meant the goat." You pointed to the goat. Tyler thanked you. "I'm surprised you can reach his shoulders," Noah said. He was basically making fun of you and your height. "I'm surprised you could reach the 6th grade, and I'm surprised you didn't get blown away by the wind." You retaliated. His face flushed.

CONFESSIONAL- NOAH

"I'm the smartest person here. She doesn't know what she's talking about, she probably got held back."

He sighed.

"..she's amazing. I think my heart is gonna explode."

CONFESSIONAL- NOAH; ENDED

Chris continued explaining. "This is perfect!" Sierra seemed happy. Noah didn't,

"What? The fact that we're hosed?"

"I'm a fourth generation basket weaver!"

Owen cheered, "yeah!"

"We're gonna need a lot of reeds," Sierra rushed to start picking reeds. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "Hey Sierra, can you teach me?"

"Of course!"

You caught on pretty quickly. Alejandro noticed, "As expected from a fierce intelligent woman, fast learning." He placed his hands on his hips and smiled as you weaved the boat together with Sierra. "Ya sei tu plan, ya para de chamuyar." You looked up at him. (Translation- I already know your plan, stop sweet talking me/flirting.)

You were on your knees to weave the basket.

I quite like this angle. He thought, since he was looking down at you.

"¿Sabes español?" (Translation- you know Spanish?)

"No pendejo, estoy hablando portuguesa." You replied sarcastically. (Translation- No idiot/asshole, I'm speaking Portuguese.)

The team was looking at you guys. He continued anyways, even though it would raise suspicion. "Espera hasta que estamos solitos para hablar de..esto." (Translation- wait until we are alone to talk about..this.)

You nodded in agreement and kept weaving. Noah gave you a look, and you simply smiled innocently at him. He swears his stomach flipped upside down when you looked at him. Team Amazon finally showed up.

"Basket weave a boat? UGHH" Heather complained. Sierra stopped weaving and got up to talk to team Amazon. You reached out to grab her but she had already walked away. "Sorry you guys are so far behind, our baskets nearly done already thanks to my speed weaving!"

This doesn't look good, you thought.

"Plus you got Owen on your team, lucky!" Izzy said.

"But you have Cody." Sierra ran to Cody, pressing him into her chest. He looked disgusted. "I know Cody, I wish we were on the same team too!" He looked miserable. "Uhh I have to do..something." He ran away as fast as possible. "Cody has been wanting a girl for awhile. Guess he just didn't want some crazy stalker," you said to Noah. Noah looked away, he couldn't handle looking at you for some reason. It was all odd to him, he wasn't the type to like a girl like this or at least this badly.

You didn't notice his pink cheeks, all because you started a conversation with him just now. "Aww you guys are so cute together!" Izzy referred to Sierra and Cody. Noah wished she meant you and him. "Maybe we could swap teams?" Sierra made a hand gesture, Heather considered it.

"Trade a basket case for a basket weaver? Fine! Sierra, you're with us. Izzy..go play with the boys!" Heather shooed. "Do I look like a boy to you?" You rolled your eyes. Heather waved at you, still trying to make an alliance. "What?!" Alejandro looked mad about the swap.

Sierra began building their boat even quicker. Probably for Cody. Team Amazon laughed at Heather thinking she was the boss. You giggled too. Noah kept staring at you and then turning away when you went to look at him. Alejandro was still stuck on the swap, "where's Chris? He won't allow this."

Chris pulled up on a boat. Sierra immediately went to sweet talk him. "Did somebody-" Chris was cut off by Sierra hugging his feet. "Todays officially the best day of my life! So I really hope you allow us to swap. But of course you'll make the best decision cause you're the best decider ever!!"

"And that's why I'm going to allow it!"

"Smiley face!! Ahhh!!"

Chris waved goodbye and you gave him the most betrayed look ever. His smile dropped for some reason at that. The boat pulled away, and he stared at you as he went back to the other side. "As you wish.." Alejandro was defeated. Heather stuck her tongue out at him and he blew her a kiss. You rolled your eyes and bit your lip, trying not to say something.

Sierra already finished, even putting a hut on the boat. Your team complained and you stood up, crossing your arms. "I hope their boat sinks or that the camel refuses to get in." You mumbled, your team heard anyways and Noah chuckled, so did Izzy. "Don't give up! We still have a shot!"

"Al's right! Thanks Al."

You saw Alejandro shiver at that nickname and decided to get in a bit of teasing. You walked over to him, leaning down a bit because he was on one knee. "You cold? Why are you shivering?" You teased, getting even closer. "Uh..yes. It's cold in here." Noah glanced over, "dude it's the fucking desert. Y/n don't get too close to him, you might catch a disease." You giggled. Alejandro glared at Noah.

"So you're cold?" You touched his forehead with the back of your hand. "Don't feel cold...maybe you should let us all know what you like to be called." You continued teasing, walking back to Noah. Noah almost looked like he was gonna grab your wrist to get you away from Alejandro. Meanwhile Alejandro still looked traumatized from being called Al. He also looked like he was gonna strangle Noah.

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO

"I have no problem being called..Al." He shivered again. "Uhhh that wasn't- it's just- chilly..in here." He shivered again but it was fake this time. He looked around.

"Also that Noah kid..he needs to back off. From me and Y/n, he's like her dog and this is only the second episode."

(Alejandro doesn't know I'm about to make him the same way😭🙏)

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO; ENDED

Team victory finally arrived and team Amazon was struggling to get their camel in the boat. "Izzy! Tell Ruby to get in the boat." Izzy began speaking to the goat at the command of Courtney. "Woahhh woah, Izzy's on our team now. Not yours." Noah stated. You touched Izzy's curly ginger hair for a moment in awe and then spoke, "not a word pretty lady." You found her pretty, so why not call her pretty? Though you might look a bit lesbian, which you are, it doesn't matter. (Y/n is bisexual by the way, js a reminder)

"Ooh fun!" Izzy treated it like a game. "Fine! We'll do it ourselves. C'mon." Courtney said. They struggled with the camel. The boat was finally finished, the back looking a bit wonky since it was done by everyone but Sierra. "It floats! Awesome!" Owen cheered. Alejandro whistled to the goat, which immediately ran to his arms.

Team victory also finished building. You were rowing behind Noah, and in front of Alejandro and his weird goat. "We're gonna win fair and square..but to make sure you believe that..talk to the camel." Alejandro gave Izzy the go to talk to the camel. You spoke up, "what? No! Don't do it Izzy. Are you trying to make us lose Alejandro?"

Alejandro looked down at you, "we won't. And if we do lose because of me, you can sleep on me in economy." You grimaced, "like I'd wanna." Alejandro nodded at Izzy to continue. She started talking to the camel who immediately got in team amazons boat after she told it to.

The musical bell went off. "Time for a musical reprise!"

Everybody groaned. "Hey! If you'd finished the song the first time you wouldn't be here now, Zeke! Start singing. And put your backs into it." Chris looked like he enjoyed everyone's misery. He definitely did.

Pick or make your own part again 🤷‍♀️

Team Amazon passed you guys, as you said they would. So your team got second and team victory got last. "Congrats! You're alive. And as long as you all brought your rewards across the finish line, there will be no eliminations tonight." Most people cheered at the news, you were too busy glaring at Alejandro.

"I lost the stick..heh." Ezekiel said, his whole team looked at him in anger. Chris chuckled. "Sucks to be you."

—

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO

"Losing Sierra to Heather? Ehh tragic. But I still have the upper hand, the president of Cody's fan club doesn't know a thing about me. No one does, and I intend to keep it that way. Compared to me, Heathers a saint. Well...I guess Y/n thinks she has me figured out. She doesn't even know a quarter of it though."

"Y/n is...a valuable asset. Noah keeps getting in my way though."

CONFESSIONAL- ALEJANDRO; ENDED

You were pissed sitting in economy. You were sitting in between Noah and Alejandro. "So? What do you have to say? I literally told you not to let Izzy talk to the camel! You didn't listen." You complained, leaning back. "Now we're stuck on this stupid wooden bench in this very sketchy area of the plane." Alejandro only looked at you as you ranted about his mistake. "I apologize cariño, I'll make it up to you," he grabbed your hand, attempting to kiss it.

Noah scoffed, "quit it Prince Charming." He grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from Alejandro's grasp. "That's no way to grab a lady." Alejandro said.

"Suck it," you scooted away from Alejandro. "I'd take his touch over yours any day, Al." You taunted, using the name he oh so hated against him. He shivered.

"Necesitemos hablar, sígueme. Y por favor, para de usar ese nombre." Alejandro said, standing up and walking into the confessional. He wanted the world to see how he made you his puppet. (Translation- we need to talk, follow me. And please stop using that name.)

But something is making him wanna make you more than just a puppet. Make you his.

NOT proofread.

Part 5 ALREADY out

As I said in earlier chapters, Y/n is hinted to be short.

Alsooo my Spanish is Argentinian and Mexican..as I am Argentinian and Mexican so don't say anything🤷‍♀️

Part five⬇️

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songmingisthighs · 7 months

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Genesis

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. li - drop by

fashion mogul!mingi × reader

buy me coffee ?

things aren't always what it seems but when even the truth is left unheard, what can people do? one musn't lie but what if the lie is more accepted than the truth? the scariest thing in this world isn't monsters or demons. it's people with no agenda and time to waste.

You were about to take a sip of your soup when your room's door was opened and Mingi came with a big grin on his face.

"(y/n), I have someone I want you to meet!"

It was a good thing that you didn't put food in your mouth because if you did, you would've definitely choked. Your mouth became dry and your body went cold at the sight of your ex-fiance smiling next to your baby daddy as if it was the most normal thing ever. What kind of a lunatic would show up in his pregnant ex-fiance's hospital room like this?

Oh yeah, the lunatic who abandoned you less than two months before you tied the knot and ran off to Europe.

Ironic how he's back.

Mingi, excited and completely oblivious, pulled Hongjoong into the room and stood next to your bed. "This is Kim Hongjoong, he and I have been working together for some time now because we're getting Fix Song in The Gallerio where he's the head of Fashion Merchandising. On top of that, he's a big name in the fashion industry," he rambled on, thinking you didn't know all the things about Hongjoong. Then he turned to Hongjoong, "I apologize if it seems like (y/n) doesn't know you, hyung, she's not much into the fashion industry," he said, jokingly jabbing at you as proven by the teasing glare he sent your way which made you roll your eyes. Hongjoong chuckled at Mingi's 'apology' because of course, as someone who has dated you for almost three years, he knew of your ignorance of the fashion industry. "Well of course she is, I-" Before Hongjoong could say something, you cut him off, "Just because I'm wearing a hospital gown which is mandatory, doesn't mean I'm completely oblivious to fashion. But why did you bring your buddy here?" Though you aimed your question at Mingi, you managed to shoot a look at Hongjoong that made him raise an eyebrow, understanding what you were saying but also questioning it. "Because he has been the one who gave me the security detail contact and also the PR team which I can't thank him enough," Mingi was truly, genuinely seemingly in love with Hongjoong and as sickening as it was, you tried to hold in your disgust at how the father of your child bats his eyes at the man who broke your heart into a million pieces, pretended to have done it gently, then hung with Olivier Rousteing.

Of course, Hongjoong, the ever-humble man chuckled as he shook his head, "No no, Mingi, no, I only gave you the contacts and you actually handled everything yourself," he smiled at the younger man. But Mingi disagreed, shaking his head wildly, he grabbed Hongjoong by the shoulders, "But hyung, I wouldn't have known what to do had you not helped guide me to the right people. (y/n) and I... We couldn't have been safely hidden away here without your help." It took every ounce of power within you to not roll your eyes or scoff or call the nurse to give you something to induce coma in you so you don't have to watch what you could only describe as... Actually, you don't know how to describe the situation. It's Dear John meet The Notebook meet Dumb and Dumber.

Thankfully before the compliment bomb dropped between them, Mingi got a call and he excused himself to take it. Which meant that you were left alone in the room with the last living creature you'd want to be in the same room as. At this point, considering what he did, you take being in the same room as a starved lion over Kim Hongjoong.

As soon as Mingi stepped out and closed the door, Hongjoong shuffled around and produced a bouquet that you didn't even realize he was holding. "I... I got you these. I remember you admiring baby's breath and daisies and of course I can't-" "What are you doing here?" you cut him off, not in the mood to listen to his lame small talk. Hongjoong's shoulders dropped and his lips pursed, "I guess it's weird that I'm here, huh?" he chuckled awkwardly. "Is it weird? I don't know on the account that nothing is as weird as having to explain myself to YOUR parents the reason you left for Europe without me was because you broke off our engagement, broke up with me, and cancelled the wedding," you didn't know where that came from nor were you aware that you've been holding that one specific thing on him. Your words seem to brought a sense of shame to Hongjoong as his eyes dropped down to his feet and he began to show his nervous tics; kicking the floor with his toe and scratching the left side of his neck. "I guess... I should apologize for those..." It surprised him when he looked up to see you furiously shaking your head, "Um, no you don't? Saying sorry only alleviates your guilt and boy do I want you to live with that guilt. Were you even aware that your brother had left me voicemails for 9 straight days, apologizing on behalf of you and your family and that he only stopped because Jongho barked at him to stop making me cry because of the voicemails?" "Yeah... Bumjoong hyung might have told me about the voicemails but I didn't know Jongho talked to him. How is he by the way? How are your friends?"

You weren't sure what Hongjoong was doing at that moment. Was he trying to act like nothing happened? Was he trying to distract you? Why would he put himself and you in this position?

"No, you don't get to ask about them, Hongjoong! Why are you here?" you were getting frustrated and it was obvious. "I just want to see if you were okay. I was there the day you were mobbed and I wanted to help but Mingi already jumped in," "Of course, he jumped in, his baby was in danger!" There was a noticeable shift in Hongjoong's expression when you mentioned Mingi's baby. It was minuscule but you caught it. To cover it up, Hongjoong cleared his throat and turned to put the bouquet on the table where Mingi's laptop was sitting on. "Speaking of Mingi," he started, taking a moment to formulate his question, "He... Seemed unaware of us, our history. Why is that?" You figured this question was about to appear sooner or later and as much as you are prepared to answer it, it's still annoying to think about. "I saw you two becoming close and he seemed to genuinely like you so I didn't want to jeopardize anything for him. Besides, there was a time I thought Mingi was not going to be in my life anymore so I thought... Why bother?"

Whatever response you were expecting from Hongjoong couldn't prepare you for the casual chuckle he gave. "I remembered having a conversation about that," he said which made you furrow your eyebrows, "What... The fuck are you talking about? He talked to you about bean?" "Well, not technically. I remember him being so distracted during a lunch he and his business partner Seonghwa had with me so after that I asked him what was going on and he told me about doubts if I remember correctly? He spoke about jumping into a decision he didn't get to think through and I kinda told him about you," he shrugged. The revelation both surprised and confused you, "You told him about me? Does that mean... Mingi knows about us?" which made no sense because Mingi seemed oblivious. Hongjoong immediately turned around and shook his head, "No, no, I... Only referred to me as my ex," and you couldn't help but jab him, "Should've added 'that I threw to the side like she meant nothing before running away'," to twist the knife even further, you threw him a smile, a smile that used to bring flutters in Hongjoong's belly. Which it still does unbeknownst to you.

Seeing Hongjoong silenced be it from guilt or shame (both would've been awesome), you leaned back on your bed that's been set to a seating position and crossed your arms, "What else did you talk about to Mingi?" It seemed like focusing on Mingi instead of the two of you was the best decision at the moment as you two were in a hospital and as convenient as it is for Hongjoong to receive treatment after you're done with tearing him a new one, you didn't want a new headline to appear in the news tomorrow. Hongjoong pursed his lips again and stared off into space as he took a moment to think, leaning against the edge of your bed. Just him doing that made your heart clench because you remembered cooing over how adorable he looked and poking fun at how he would habitually do that without realizing until you point it out. But you push that feeling aside, down as far as you can as you face the man who turned your resolve around with one single blow. "I guess we mostly talk about work, nothing too personal," the content of the conversation seemed to be surface-level enough but you still raised an eyebrow at him, "Yet... He felt comfortable enough to talk to you about his decisions pertaining his unborn child?" Hongjoong couldn't help but playfully roll his eyes at you, "Okay, we didn't even talk about babies until this whole thing happened and he only told me because I asked, he was distressed and under pressure."

It shouldn't have been that big of a deal that Mingi talked about bean to someone he felt like he could trust but out of the billions of people on earth alive not to mention the uncountable number of dead people he could've contacted, he had to talk to your ex-fiance. You groaned and dropped your head back, "Ugh, we haven't even made a decision on how to break this to the public and you already know stuff you shouldn't know," you muttered to yourself but it was obviously loud enough for Hongjoong to hear. He laughed and reached to pat your leg gently over your blanket in an effort to comfort you, "Hey, you have nothing to worry about, unlike your friend Yeosang who can't even keep your birthday surprise, I won't tell the press about bean until you and Mingi decided to say anything." As much as you hated to admit it, his touch still managed to give you comfort and you don't know how to feel about it. So you shot him a polite smile and said a small thank you. Hongjoong beamed at your niceties and nodded, "No problem." It seemed that the tension between you and him had dissolved considerably and while there were still unspoken things, you knew that it could be dealt with on another day, at another time.

"By the way, are we sure the baby is Mingi's? I mean... It could be mine?" Hongjoog joked which caused your smile to drop into a frown, "Don't even," you warned. Hongjoong cackled happily at your reaction, knowing that you weren't taking his question seriously and that his assumption was right, the tension had lowered significantly because no way you would've let your reaction be just like that had the tension been still too thick.

To the oblivious, it would appear as if you and Hongjoong had a connection, a relationship. Which obviously had, considering how you both seemed rather comfortable in conversing with each other. That's why the pair of eyes that had been watching you two from your door couldn't believe what he was seeing and had to walk away to process things.

"What the fuck?"

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@ateezourstars @phenomenalgirl9 @90s-belladonna @yunhorights @yuntokkie @stopeatread @aestheticsluut @spooo00oky @kodzukein @galaxypox @mayonnaisehoeshit @maddiebabyxoxo @dreamlesswonder86 @charreddonuts @jwnghyuns @angelicyeo @axo-l0tl @gxlden-bxbyy @bbymatz @blaaiissee @kyume02 @aurora-tiny @senpai-of-doom @meowmeowminnie @thesolarplanetarysystem @seonghwaddict @miaatiny @soobiverse @alyssajavenss @thatfavouritesong @camillelafaye

@randomness7198

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fantasticallyfruity4 · 1 year

Text

This is some hallmark bullshit but Single dad! Steve and single dad! Eddie.

Single dad Steve and single dad eddie whose daughters (El and Max, respectively) go to the same school.

Steve’s daughter has always gotten bullied, a fact he’s very unhappy about, but hasn’t been able to do anything about.

Calling teachers, meeting with the principal, these assholes can’t control their kids. And Els only friend from last year isn’t in her class anymore. This year has been rough, on both father and daughter. No one likes to see their kids so unhappy when they cant do anything about it, especially Steve. His little princess is his whole world.

But lately it seems she has a friend, finally. and apparently this girl protects her at school.

The girl is new to the class, new in town he assumes. She sticks up for El, apparently, and sits with her at lunch. Teams up with her in gym. El has a friend. Finally.

And Steve wants to go talk to this kids parent, tell them how much of a great kid they’ve got, thank them, thank the kid.

And the next day at school pickup when el comes out he asks, where’s the girl whose been sticking up for you, your new friend?. And el points at a little red head whose holding the pinky of a intimidating metal head whose signing her out.

He’s really hot, the dad, Atleast that’s what Steve assumes he is to her. And his brain is melting into itself. He’s got these rings and piercing and all this hair and he’s in all black and leather and metal and he’s beautiful and Steve’s having a moment. He was expecting to shake some old housewives hand. Not talk to this guy. He didn’t think he could do it, honestly.

“Pappa?” El asks yanking on Steve’s shirt hem, snapping him back into reality.

The dilf is picking up the girls yellow backpack and getting ready to leave, so Steve realizes he has to do this now or never.

“Hey, scuse me, sorry-“

Before Steve can talk more els friend is smiling and hugging her. “El!” And the man is grinning, eyes flicking between he display and Steve’s eyes. He’s got this grin and look in his eyes like he knows something.

“Maxxie is this that new friend of yours? The one who likes Wonder Woman too?”.

And oh my god, is that why els comics keep disappearing? Because she’s giving them to her friend? Steve thought she was loosing them, or even worse the bullies were taking them. But now Steve can’t be mad. That’s… that’s so sweet. That’s his kid. He’s doing okay too, if his kid is sharing her prized comics with her new friend.

The little red head grins and nods. “She’s my best friend!”.

Steve smiles, watching El blush while she hugs her friend. It’s so cute. It’s too fucking cute.

“Hey, I’m eddie” Eddie introduces. “Steve, nice to meet you man”.

Eddie nodds.

“Wanted to come say thank you, to you and your daughter. Els has it really hard here, and Max has really stood up for her. It means a lot to both of us, you uh, you’ve got a great kid.”

Eddie beams with pride, squeezing max’s shoulders.

“That’s what we do, right? We look out for other people, right?”.

She nods.

And it blooms into a beautiful friendship. Kids and adults alike.

Problem is both men assume the other must be straight.

“I like your rainbow converse max! They’re very cool!” Steve compliments the 7 year old. The girl beams with her missing front teeth on full display. “They match my daddy’s!” She proudly states. Steve chuckled to himself. “Your dad has rainbow converse? Are you sure were talking about the same guy?”.

The little girl runs back to el on the playground giggling, as Eddie approaches Steve.

Sure enough, in rainbow vans. “We’ll I’ll be damned”. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “You can say what you want about corporate pride, but giving Nike $80 sure beats getting the shit kicked out of me for liking guys” Eddie winks.

“Oh- you’re gay?”

Eddie nods. But it’s a curt nod. A little defensive. Steve hates it. “That a problem for you, big boy?”.

Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard eddie so defensive, so hostile. And he hates it.

“No! No way not at all man! It’s cool, it’s all cool. I’m bi”

Eddies jaw drops a little bit. But closes quickly.

“You dress so fucking stupid I figured you were straight this whole time” Eddie teases elbowing Steve’s ribs.

“Ouch, this is coming from the guy in the worlds most gaudy converse?”

#steddie #single dads steddie

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scarletnakazato · 2 months

Text

Shingo Shoji - Love Killer

• Shingo Shoji x Reader | Smut | • Word Count: 12,470. • Synopsis: In which Shingo is shown the love he deserves and Takeshi fookin' learns that no one gets between Shoji and his girl. • Note: Finally back in the Initial D game, here's my first big comeback in over FOUR years. More importantly, my fanfic partner in crime, DistanceYourselfFromMyProximity on AO3 deserves a HUGE fucking shoutout for helping me beyond all rational reason with the ideas for this fic and my soon to come future ones as well. The sheer amount of hate fuck love she's got for this beaked nose MF is truly fascinating along with her own fics. Thank you bestie for the inspiration and getting my motivation back to write for this severely underrated fandom! <3

➽───────────────❥

The NightKids were sitting in a booth at the local late-night restaurant they frequented. Shingo took the spot closest to the window, being able to hang an arm over the ledge of the windowsill and set his knee on the booth to sit angular like he usually does. Takeshi sat directly across from him, the rest of the group taking the outer spots.

As the other members of the team ordered some coffees for everyone, one of them brought up the topic of what they think is going to happen at the race they’re attending tonight. As the NightKids top two racers sipped their caffeine in relative peace, one of them looked to Shingo.

“Say, man, you’ve been teaching your girl how to drive with the gumtape right? How’s she doing with it?”

“Pretty well. She’s at least used to the layout of FFs so adjusting to the tape and only steering at high speeds with one hand is about the only thing she’s got some resistance to. She’s also got some hesitance on the left foot braking, so she’s been going up to Myogi damn near every night just to drive around and get used to that before anything else.” His voice kept its usual raspy, hoarseness to it, almost retaining the snarky-ness as well, but if one were to listen hard enough, they’d pick up on traces of sincerity and genuine pride.

He wouldn’t go into further detail about the way she’s had quite a few instances of slowing down too much before a turn and getting spooked about losing control too easily, especially in her boyfriend’s car. He’d always watch her movements and when she’d tense her arms before a turn, he’d lightly place his right hand on the wheel as she turned, helping her make it through and add slight pressure to turn the wheel either further in or out depending on what was needed. After successfully making it through a turn he’d go back to rest his head on his hand that was leant against the passenger door as he continued to watch her. Shingo would give little compliments on something she aced or her smooth shifting and braking along with his occasional interjections of advice on what to do or how to handle something coming up.

He wasn’t going to throw her into the fray of learning something as dangerous as gumtape driving by wrapping her whole hand. He started very small, simply wrapping the tape around the wheel and her hand once then again to have one layer of tape around her wrist. It gave her enough pressure to not move her hand away but was also light enough to pull away with enough force if needed suddenly.

The day she asked him to teach her how to do it even after his self-induced wreck with the 8-6 made him feel something inside. Something... warm. He felt needed at that moment. He had enough trouble dealing with and trying to come to terms with himself in things he couldn’t control. The way he’d get made fun of in school for his allergies, his voice, appearance, and especially his nose made him grow up bitter and spiteful.

Somewhere, somehow, fate decided to throw (Y/N) his way. He could remember the night she asked if he was single and wanted to go on a date as vividly as if he was re-living that moment a year and a half ago. He still felt bad about giving her some attitude, accepting with, “Fine, but don’t expect much out of it.” She still left with a smile that night.

The day of their date, he stared at himself in the mirror for hours. He couldn’t decide how to style his hair or if it was better to just leave it messy. He never had the right clothes for something remotely nice. Just plain t-shirts, baggy pants and hoodies. He hated himself so much that day he almost skipped the date. But the want - the need to have someone next to him - won that war and he showed up fifteen minutes late. Luckily, she was still there. He found her sitting near the window of the restaurant she mentioned, sipping her drink so prettily. He could see her red lipstick from the car and was even more captivated when he walked in, seeing the deep red dress she wore, black heels to match.

God, she was gorgeous, he thought. What chance did he have to score her? When she laid eyes on his form approaching, dressed in black, the only shade of red to be found on him was the laces of his shoes and his ears which were hidden under his hair (to his luck). She greeted him with a smile as if he wasn’t late at all. She complimented his outfit choice along with his tousled hair, from a previous small breakdown, saying he had that bad boy look going on and she dug it. He kept his usual tough attitude, replying that it wasn’t anything special and tried to play it off. He cussed himself out mentally, calling himself an idiot for being rude and thinking this was the start and end to the happiness he could have had. Instead, she simply giggled and nodded, changing the topic to ask about his car and his racing team.

With that, their date flew by, and he found himself impressed with her car knowledge and the fact she wanted a Civic of her own and was looking at her options for different models. He found himself rambling on about his car and his skills and she listened with interest, leaning forward slightly as she munched on her food. Nodding along with him occasionally, she’d mention things she wanted to learn once she gets her car and get good enough to join a team. “Maybe good enough to snag a place on yours?” she’d questioned with a giggle.

During their time that night Shingo hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long while. About halfway through the time they spent at the restaurant he got a sense that she wasn’t judging him or trying to dig into him for information that he didn’t want to give. It was nice for a change. He wouldn’t take no for an answer when she kept asking if she could at least pay for her half of the bill, or at least pay him back. All Shingo replied with as he put the cash on the tray and met her eyes was, “Just be quiet and look pretty.” He let out a small, amused hum when she cut herself off, blushing at his words and avoiding his gaze.

Shingo offered to drive her home to which she gladly accepted, wanting to see what it was like inside of his car. She admired the way he glided smoothly through gears and steered as if the car was an extension of himself. Completely in tune. The rumble of the engine and exhaust created a calming background noise. Her attempts at subtly looking over at him were mediocre at best. Always turning her head slightly to get a better look at him was easily noticed.

He didn’t want to say anything, however. It felt nice that someone wanted to look at him for more than just conversation. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if she was also looking to gauge if she truly liked him or not. Sure, she was looking at him all night while they talked, but now that he had to focus more on driving, she could think about that option with a side profile of himself.

What he didn’t know however was the fact she was admiring how he was both cute and hot with that curved nose of his. The way it smoothly and subtly curved outward, the thinness of it made it appear more beaked. It was cute watching him scrunch his nose while he talked about something that annoyed him, like the leader of his team. It fit him so well, along with the small upward curve at the outside corners of his eyes. It gave them the illusion of being permanently half-lidded, as if he was always glaring, annoyed, or tired.

Minutes later, he pulled onto the shoulder of the road in front of her house. She gathered her bag and opened the door before turning towards him. “Thank you for tonight, you were great.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lower bridge of his nose, just above the tip before hopping out of the car and quickly heading inside, cheeks red. Shingo sat there for a solid minute, stunned by her small action. He could feel heat where her lips were for only a split second and lightly rubbed at that spot, before shaking his head and pulling back onto the road. His face felt like it was on fire and the quick image of her kissing his nose replayed in his mind the whole way home.

Shingo snaps out of his daydream when he hears snapping in front of him, locking eyes with the guy next to him. “You good, man? Spaced out for a solid couple minutes there.”

“Yeah, yeah, just thinkin’.” He waved him off, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. “Y’all wanna head out or what?” He threw back the rest of the coffee like he was taking a shot of alcohol, looking ready to leave. Everyone nodded in agreement, leaving their share of the payment before returning to their cars. Eventually reaching the top of Myogi, passing through dozens of spectators, Shingo pulled away from his team’s single-file line after finding his girlfriend’s black EG6 and parking next to it.

He caught her talking with her best friend near the vending machine, both laughing and making hand gestures about whatever it was they were likely gossiping about while sipping on canned coffee. He noticed Takeshi walking over to the two girls, seeing as he parked closest to them. They appeared to be greeting him nicely, her friend waving and (Y/N) giving him a nod.

The way Nakazato seemed to be focusing his attention on Shingo’s girl more over her friend was starting to piss him off. As if Shingo and Takeshi didn’t have enough beef with each other, now the guy wanted to chat up his girlfriend like the most casual thing in the world? Shingo was always the one who would watch how girls admired him like he was as big a hotshot as Ryosuke and Keisuke Takahashi. They’d watch him with hearts in their eyes and if any even tried to talk to him he’d always be polite about it. That only made the girls fall for him more and act like they made a fan club in Takeshi’s name.

They put him on such a high pedestal that it left Shingo feeling like he was at the bottom of the totem pole, despite being the NightKids second best racer. All the time and effort he had to dedicate, the sweat and blood he put into perfecting his techniques felt like jack shit compared to the way people admired and complimented Takeshi. Even guys respected Nakazato’s skill and the only things people would spread about Shingo was his deadly driving style, which he loved as it gave him an intimidating aura, then to a laughingstock after his loss with the 8-6. It was back to square one with the name calling, the jokes, the insults, all of it. Even after Takeshi lost to the 8-6, it was spread around that the Black Lightning of Myogi lost to an 80’s Corolla, but he was still deemed as an excellent driver and had people surprised someone as good as Takeshi could lose.

Shingo, though? Almost everyone had their bets on the 8-6.

The only person who truly backed him was his girl. The night before that race they had lied in bed together and she brought up all the ideas she could to help him put together strategies if his main one didn’t work. The frequent accentuations of telling him to be careful with the gumtape and to memorize the pass for less of a chance of a fuck up.

He thought back to that race as he sat on the hood of his car, his eyes still trained on Takeshi and (Y/N) a distance away but turning into a zoned-out expression.

All she ever did was look out for him, help him with ways to improve and get better. And what did he do? Rammed himself into a guardrail like an idiot. He didn’t expect anyone to come looking for him after he wrecked and the Trueno continued onward. When he saw the headlights of Iketani’s S13 turn around the corner, and the SpeedStars rushing to check on him, Shingo felt pathetic. He had never been so embarrassed or ashamed in his life and it was his own fault. The humiliation was extraordinary.

He didn’t have the nerve to look them in the eyes after talking such a big game about beating the 8-6. With how forgiving Iketani and his team were about taking him to the hospital and explaining that it’s the racer’s code to look out for one another, opponent or not, Shingo only thought of how disappointed and livid (Y/N) was going to be if she heard about it. When she heard about it. He couldn’t keep it from her. He didn’t want her hearing about his fuck up through rumours and other people’s words. She deserved to hear it from him straight up.

Holding his wrist in pain, he looked out at the city beyond the pass, asking Iketani to “make a call on one of their cells real quick.” Kenji handed him a phone and he dialed her number.

She couldn’t make it to his race because she had gone to visit family after not seeing them for some time and they planned a gathering. He understood completely. He may have been somewhat jealous she had as loving a family as she did, but when she introduced him to them, they treated him like one of their own. Sure, his parents were fine and treated him right, but he noticed that Western families show more love and appreciation for one another, and their children more than Japanese families do. They outwardly say “I love you” to her, meanwhile his parents never did, but still showed their affection and love in different, smaller ways. Still, it never felt thorough to Shingo.

With each ring of the phone as he waited for her pick up, his dread rose even further until it cut off and she answered with a slightly confused “Hello?”

“Hey, babe… it’s me.” He said somewhat quietly, facing away from the other guys, even though they gave him space to talk privately. “You okay? Did something happen?” He let out a short breath through his nose, the smallest of smiles on his face knowing she could see, and hear, right through him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright pretty much. Race didn’t end well and I… I uh wrecked. A bit.” His face, red as his Civic and hot in shame, his eyes diverting to the road.

“What? How? What happened? Are you hurt?” she questioned quickly, not waiting for a reply as she grabbed her car keys, and he could hear them on the other end of the phone.

“Baby, it’s okay, you don’t need to come over here, I just fucked up my wrist a bit. I just… didn’t want you to find out from other people spreading rumours and shit. Felt like you deserve to know right away.” His voice held a sad, depressive tone, his eyes falling on the beat up Civic not even ten feet away. Shingo was terrified that if she saw his car and knew it was his fault that he wanted to play dirty, he’d lose her in an instant. Everything they had - he had - would be gone in moments and he’d be alone again.

“You still on Akina?” She asked, some metal sounds clanking in the background of the phone and some voices he couldn’t make out any sentences to. “Yeah. It was gonna take me a bit to move the car and uh-”

“Good. Stay there, I’ll be over in thirty minutes.” Before he could ask or even reply she hung up just as the sound of her car turned on. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, unsure of what was going to happen when she arrived. Handing the phone back to Kenji, he told them that his girlfriend was on the way, and it was best he stayed there to wait for her, adding that they didn’t need to wait with him.

He felt like a fool enough being a royal dick to them, wanting to dig his own grave just to crawl into it when they said they don’t mind waiting with him and can help clean up the leaking oil and broken pieces of his light fixtures. They assured him he could chill out and take it easy on his arm, so they handled the oil leak from the Civic’s front end then brushed up the busted headlight and taillight pieces with a small brush Iketani kept in the S13 for his interior.

Shingo was trying his best to keep the second stream of tears from flowing in front of the guys. Sitting sideways in the passenger seat of his civic, legs hanging out of the doorway as his hands rested on his lap, he soon heard the distant rumbling of a Civic engine. Shingo and the SpeedStars raised their heads at the noise, seeing his girlfriend pull up in front of the battered red Civic and stopping, as if taking in the damage.

She lays eyes on Shingo who looks completely defeated. She notices how he doesn’t look up at her car after the initial attention of who was approaching.

Iketani jogs over to the driver's side, and she rolls down her window. “Hey! He doesn’t seem as bad as the crash looks. Seems like just his wrist is banged up and the car isn’t drivable. He had an oil leak somewhere in the front, but we cleaned up the mess, so others won’t run over it.”

“Right. Thank you for that, sorry about the trouble.” She replied, grateful but somber. “I got a trailer with me so I can take his car with us.” Iketani nodded and offered his and Kenji’s help with setting up the trailer in front of the EG. Once done, she connected a hook to the Civic to be pulled by a motor and onto the trailer. Shingo could barely watch the depressing sight as he stood there, feeling like a fish out of water.

With the Civic strapped to the trailer and the guys helping (Y/N) turn around to face the downhill she called for Shingo to get in the car, thanking the SpeedStars once more for the help before they headed back to the S13. She turned toward Shingo, seeing him struggle to click the seatbelt into place. Gently taking it from him, she settled him in before gently taking his right arm and lifting it to inspect the damage.

She noticed him wince slightly before asking, “What happened, Shin?” she averted her gaze back down to his wrist, seeing the traces of bruising becoming slowly apparent. It took him a minute before he hesitantly answered with a quiet, “It was the gumtape deathmatch… it’s not that bad, I’ll be fine…”

She hummed in thought at his words. Gently releasing his arm, she put the car in gear and started down the pass. The more she drove down the windy road of Akina, the more she realized, “Something doesn’t add up, Shingo. I’ve seen you do this so many times before and you’ve never done this; you’re too good for that, you’ve said it yourself you’ve trained for hours upon hours to master it, whether it's on Myogi or somewhere else. What really happened?” her tone was light, knowing he wasn’t in the best state now, and she’s never seen him so defeated before. She sees him slouch into the seat more out of her peripheral vision, making himself smaller.

Making it to the bottom of the pass and catching a stoplight, she takes the chance to turn towards him, looking him in his eyes that almost appear… guilty? She didn’t know for sure. “What did you do, Shin? This isn’t like you.” Her tone turned concerned. She’s only ever witnessed her man like this once and that was over a year ago. She had to know what happened at that race.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, brokenly. Even after the light had changed colour and the car moved once more, it’s all he could say. Like a broken record on repeat. She was beginning to get scared at what had made him so terrified. Was the crash that bad? The only damage was to the lights along with a leak somewhere. It couldn’t have been that traumatizing. The guardrail looked stable and sturdy, barely a dent in it.

“Hey, hey, I’m not angry baby, okay? I just want to know what happened. You did something, that much is clear, but you need to tell me what that was. I mean, sure I may be pissed some because I could have lost you. If that guardrail was the least bit weak where you hit it, it could have broken apart and you’d be dead. I don’t want- I can’t even think about what that would’ve looked like if that rail broke on you. But… I understand that these kinds of dangers come with racing, especially on narrow mountain courses. It rough and scary, I know, and that’s why I’m trying to be as understanding as I can here, so just bear with me, alright?”

The thoughts racing through Shingo’s mind had him lost and confused. Shaking his head at her words, he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. ‘Even after all I’ve done and put her through, she still cares about me? Heh…bullshit Shingo, the minute I tell her anything she’d leave, fuckin’ run away, and be repulsed just at the sight o’ me.’ He thought to himself.

Jolted from his thoughts at a gentle squeeze on his bicep, he sees the entrance to a hospital. “C’mon, let's get your wrist looked at. Can’t go home like this.” She unclicked his belt for him and got out of the car. He sighed deeply, the guilt weighing all the heavier on him now. The overbearing weight on his shoulders had them drooping down in reality. They silently walked together into the hospital as she checked him in with the receptionist. The visit was short, having had a quick X-ray done and his hand and wrist wrapped in a cast then arm situated in a sling. He felt pathetic beyond all rational reason. The mere fact his girl had to see him like this on top of it all was indescribable.

He tried to hide the small tears that once again escaped the corners of his eyes once they reached her car. The sight of his Civic sitting on the trailer hurts his heart. But once again, the mere idea of her leaving him once all hell breaks loose at his inevitable explanations is going to damage his soul. The drive to their apartment was silent, but not entirely tense. He was both grateful and dreading the fact they arrived home quickly. Each step up the stairs felt heavier than the last and he glanced up at his girlfriend in front of him for a split second before his eyes glued themselves to the floor once again, a silent sigh leaving his lips.

Entering the apartment and hearing (Y/N) lock the door felt more trap-like than anything. ‘No escaping it now,’ he thought. A gentle hand landed on his upper back, silently guiding him to their bedroom where she motioned for him to sit on the bed. Sitting on her side, she crossed her legs and faced him as his back rested uncomfortably against the wall. He felt wrong for leaning back so casually in a time like this, but he couldn’t find it in himself to have the strength to sit up.

“Talk to me, Shingo. Please. I haven’t seen you like this in so long, it’s honestly starting to scare me. What’s worrying you so much?” she asked, a long pause in-between before she added a “You know what…” and his heart sank.

“How about we start from the beginning? From the start of the race up to right now, okay?” she eyed him almost desperately. The sight of him like this, so weak and vulnerable, tore at her heartstrings. She felt slightly relieved when he nodded his head lightly. He inhaled, mouth slightly open as if to speak, but pausing for a moment, thinking of how to put his words together before she finally heard him speak in over an hour, “The race started out fine. Up until that corner. I guess- I got too full of myself. Thought I was some invincible guy who could finally beat the 8-6 and… when I realized I wasn’t going to, like everyone else, I figured it would’ve been better to protect my pride over just losing a race.”

When he paused, she cut the silence with “And what method did you use to try and protect your pride?”

“If I couldn’t win, I didn’t want Fujiwara to, either. So…” he raised his good hand to his head, hiding half his face with it and his fingers grip into the loose strands of his hair as he started to shake a bit, more tears threatening to fall in guilt and fear, “I was gonna have both of us wreck. I fucked that up big time. Being wrapped up in my head I didn’t see the right turn coming up and swung left. Missed the 8-6 completely, grinded the side of the car against the guardrail and clipped it. Ended up ricocheting off it and rear-ended the guardrail.” By now the man before her had tears streaming down his cheeks. He waited for the laughing or the yelling to start about how much of an idiot he was, that he never learns, never thinks about the consequences.

However, that never came. She scooted closer to him sitting to the left of his legs. “Never do that again, do you understand me?” Her tone was firm but, in a way, still gentle, still caring. He nodded quickly, taking in the feeling of her running her hand along his good arm, giving it reassuring squeezes. This continued for several minutes as she mulled over his racing tactics. Something about it seemed familiar. Like she’d heard of some other racer going around and bumping into cars. Specifically, any that weren’t FF layouts… “Shingo?”

“Mhmm.” He hummed weakly. “Remember a while back when I asked you about that rumour of someone in a Civic that went around tapping other people’s bumpers? That was you, wasn’t it?” The way she asked told him she knew the answer to that question. She could practically see him deflate when she figured it out. “Don’t do that Shingo.” She made him look up at her, her hand holding his chin. “You can’t fool me completely. Or at least not for long. Who else in Gunma drives a red Civic?”

He looks into her eyes for the first time in hours and it makes him want to cry harder. The way the moonlight bounces off them and brightens them as they stare at him so softly, so lovingly despite all the bullshit he’s done. “I didn’t want you to know that part of me. I know I’m an ass, I know I do stupid things…” he hiccupped, his chest beginning to tremble once more, “but the day you asked me about that I just couldn’t risk losing you to something I’ve done. Of being repulsed by me.”

His sobbing only got worse the longer he had to confess and explain himself, even with (Y/N) trying to be as understanding as possible and seeing her man so beat up about some racing moves hurt her at the sight. Sure, they’re dirty tricks, but no one’s gotten hurt, and she has heard of others who have pulled far more life-endangering tactics than this. The fact he’s getting worse is largening her concern by the minute. Lightly cupping his face to get his attention, he just shakes his head, staring past her, repeating “I can’t say anymore, I can’t,” his voice cracking like a scratched record.

She asks why with such a heartbroken expression on her soft face. “Cause I’ll lose you if I do.” His voice cracks and he finally caved in when she hugged him tightly, being mindful of his bad arm. Her hold is tight. Protective. Reassuring. Loving. “I’m not going anywhere Shingo.” (Y/N)’s voice even began to crack as she teared up at the utter despair she was witnessing. Using his good arm, he pulls her on top of him as best as possible to hug her in a straightened position. His head drops onto her shoulder as he shakes, sobbing almost violently.

Her fingers run soothingly through his hair in attempt to calm him down when he chokes out “I’m such a fucking idiot, I can’t even hold you properly. So fucking pathetic.” She didn’t say anything, instead shaking her head against the side of his and resting her hand protectively at the back of it. After a while his sobs and shakes died down slowly until there were none left. Having worn himself out from crying he fell asleep in her arms. Gently pulling away from him, she slowly lied him down comfortably in bed, covering him and lightly adjusting his arm. She ghosted her thumbs over his face, wiping away the nearly dried tears and smoothing out his features to relax.

She quickly did her nightly routine, changing into comfortable sleeping clothes before joining him, lightly hooking her leg over his out of habit. She must make up for the physical touch somehow since she can’t cuddle up against his bad arm. Falling asleep rather quickly from the whole ordeal allowed for an easy sleep until morning.

Being the first to wake, she made coffee, bringing two mugs and water with her. Setting them on the nightstand beside her, she climbed back into bed, watching how peacefully her boyfriend was sleeping with small sips. She was halfway done with her first cup when he finally stirred awake, his normally half lidded eyes, even more closed than usual, but open nonetheless, met hers. His eyebrows contorted in confusion when he processed that she was still here.

“Hi baby.” She smiled at him, taking a sip of her coffee. “Feeling a little better?”

“I guess.” He sat up, a leg bent on the bed and the other arched over it. His left elbow rested on his arched knee, his arm hanging limply outward. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.” His voice was hoarse yet quiet.

“Of course I would. I told you; I’m not leaving. This isn’t the end of the world, Shin. We all fuck up big time at some point. Don’t beat yourself up so much over this. Everything that happened, it’s fixable, it’s replaceable, nothing was truly lost, alright? Now, here, drink this, you sound like a dying horse.” She spoke light-heartedly, handing him a bottle of water after unscrewing the cap. “I have work today in a little bit, so I set up some stuff for you to make it easy on your arm. Don’t try and do anything big around here, ‘kay?” She took his head in her free hand and pressed a kiss on his forehead before going to get ready.

He watched her go about her routine as if the events of last night never happened. It was both relieving and confusing to him. Ever the enigma, she was. He wanted to believe so badly that she was right, and it was fine to just let it go. But the weighing feeling of having let her down so heavily, having been so stupid for something that could’ve been easily avoided, nagged at the back of his mind continuously.

He was so lost in thought he barely noticed her come back in to say goodbye, leaving with another loving kiss on his nose and exiting their apartment. When Shingo heard her car start, he turned his head towards the window, seeing her drive off with his own Civic still in tow. She knew he wanted it fixed, but that was going to cost a fortune at this rate. Having to stop work for his injury was going to cut his paychecks off for a while and she was the backbone of everything now.

He never thought the consequences of one crash would be so large and affect them for so long. This continued for weeks. Yet she remained as understanding and loving as ever. Over time, his mental state was getting better, albeit slowly. His arm was healing well, only having it wrapped with firm bandages a little over a month later. He was at least able to make himself a bit more useful, keeping their place tidy and making most of the dinner for them by the time she got home. She’d always perch her head on his shoulder, watching him cook as her arms wrapped around his middle comfortably.

“Y’know babe,” she’d start, Shingo knowing what she’d say next as she’s repeated at least once a week since he’s been stuck at home, “You’d make a nice househusband, hmmm?” she’d nudge his side just under the ribs knowing he was a bit ticklish there. He’d jerk at the feeling as she giggled, and he’d groan that she got him again. She’d peck his cheek quickly before scurrying off to shower and change.

Over the duration of Shingo’s recovery, she had been as patient as she could with him, to help him see himself how she sees him, that he’s loved and to help him come to terms with his mistakes. She knew he still wasn’t in a good mindset and felt a bit guilty that a girl has her needs. She was hoping she could at least get him into it enough that she could also show him physically how much she loves him rather than saying the same words over and over through explanations. He needed to see it, feel it to understand.

As they sat in bed, (Y/N) reading a manga quietly while Shingo leant against the headboard next to her, spaced out once more, she decided to take the chance to test the waters. Silently shutting the book and placing it on the nightstand, she turned towards her boyfriend, hooking her leg over his in their usual manner. Hugging him sideways, an arm wrapped behind his back and the other in front, she placed light kisses on his neck. She could feel him tense, and she stopped, resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him.

“Why would you still want to do that with me?” His voice was flat, unsure of what emotions he should be feeling.

“Because. You’re my man and I chose you. And after these past weeks I feel it’s time for me to show you, properly, and remind you how much I love you, in all aspects… if you’ll let me?” she placed a gentle kiss on his jaw, giving his bicep and side a comforting squeeze. He responds hesitantly, his good hand resting lightly on her waist, scared that if he presses any further, she’ll vanish. “I don’t get it. How can you even want me like this after… that.”

“Because I want to see you race again. I want to see that serious, focused look in your eyes as you haul ass down that pass. The way your arms flex and tense with shifting, turning the wheel, and just how much to use the handbrake. I wanna chase you again with our runs. I especially want you chasing me. That intimidating aura you and the car give off; it sends chills down me, Shin.” She mimics the chills effect by running her fingers down his chest and stomach, feeling him tense the muscles there.

“Remember what you were like when you had that adrenaline? That sexy ass smirk you’d put on when you had a challenger. The way your voice got growly when you wanted to prove people wrong.” Her hands lightly traced along his neck, roaming to each place of him that she described. Her fingers left a trail of heat in their wake. Shingo shivered slightly when her fingers travelled down to his v-line. “Remember how you’d get when you’d show off your techniques to me in your car? You couldn’t even get to the bottom of the pass before I’d tell you to pull over and shut the car off. God, you are one hot son of a bitch, Shingo.”

Her kisses trailed down to his collarbone, kissing the exposed skin to the rim of his shirt. She felt him squeeze her waist, his wrapped hand touching the other side. “You have no idea how much I love you.” As she continued to display her affection, he was conflicted about what he really wanted. He didn’t feel that he deserved so much attention like this but when he thought back to all the previous times, he had her calling his name like a melody, and twisting and bending her in delicious ways that she’d praise him to and beg for more, he always knew he was doing something right. Even after the last few weeks of having no intimacy he craved her touch more than anything, guilt be damned.

His carnal mind told him to throw the baggage out the window and revel in his woman, but his conscious told him to smooth things over first, end this torturous mental state and get through the pain. Maybe, just maybe, if he put himself first, decided to be a little selfish and ignore the guilt for one night, to listen to his girl’s words and take them in, try to see her point of view, he’d get through it better. His hold on her waist tightened as he made up his mind by pulling her closer, forcing her to adjust her position and straddle his thighs.

She hummed happily, knowing he accepted her, and she was going to damn well prove to him just how fucking perfect he was. “If you ever want me to stop, just say so, alright, baby? No questions asked.” She rose her head to plant a kiss on his nose, the same way she did since their first date. He nodded lightly, his thumbs lightly rubbing into her hips. “Good boy.” She smiled warmly before leaning in to give him a proper kiss.

The passion she put into her movements was almost overwhelming instantly. Even if he didn’t kiss back with as much vigor, she didn’t pull away, didn’t let down. Her hands travelled back down to the hem of his burgundy t-shirt, spreading her fingers out to feel his upper half in full as she pushed his shirt up, breaking the kiss to pull it off him, still being mindful of his injured wrist.

The second his shirt fell to the floor, her lips latched back onto his, the ghostly pressure of her snake bites pressing against his soft lips pulled a light sigh out of him. He always loved the way her piercings felt on his skin, even along his neck and chest, the small red metal loops never failed to elicit those lovely sounds from his throat. The second she got the chance to slip her tongue in past his parted lips, she pressed her tongue against his, the piercing on her wet muscle earning a low moan and a firmer grip on her hips.

Her hands dropped to the waistband of his pants, lithe fingers ghosting down and over his slowly growing length. She whispered words of praise and details of him that she found beautiful; his eyes. Attractive; his face and body, his both adorable and unexplainably hot nose, and so much more that he was melting completely under her touch. She had him sighing and whimpering so prettily, his voice whispering her name as she took her time showing him just how much she wanted him. Just as she was about to hook her fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, their eyes met and-

“Yo, Shingo!” Growling in annoyance, his eyes snapped over to the guy who pulled him back to reality, his cigarette bent in half as well. “What.” The man approaching him put his hands up in surrender, surprised by the sudden hostility.

“Nothin’ man, just wanted to see how things were going. You looked pretty spaced out there.”

“Was going fine until you brought me back to the cesspool of reality.” Shingo took a long drag of his bent cigarette before stomping it out and breathing the smoke out through his nose in an annoyed sigh. His eyes landed back on his girl and her friend, seeing Nakazato still with them. Couldn’t have been more than a few minutes that he was daydreaming for, the race hadn’t even started yet. He kept his gaze directed on the three of them, picking up on how her friend stared at Takeshi almost dreamily like she does with the Takahashi Brothers as well. (Y/N) however, had her back completely to him so he couldn’t tell, but that annoyingly soft smile Takeshi was displaying pissed him off.

He always kind of hated deep down that Takeshi seemed to have all the looks. Didn’t have a weird nose, had a defined, angular facial structure that the girl’s would lose their shit over, how his eyebrows complimented his eye’s shape, all of it. It was annoying. Then the day he got his “sweet 3-2” it’s like he became as much a bitch magnet as the Takahashi’s.

But when Shingo and his girl got deeper into their relationship, he was surprised at how much she’d stare at him, complimenting his features, and then winking at him with play seduction before going back to what she was doing. He came around quickly with the fact she only had eyes for him and loved the way she’d give disgusted looks to random guys who tried talking her up before she simply pointed in Shingo’s direction so he could flip them off as he took a sip of his beer if it was at a bar. He’d always pick up on the way she smirked when he’d do that, always muttering in his ear a few minutes later how his “jealousy and bad boy attitude was fucking hot.”

Deciding he had enough of the way Takeshi kept looking over to her, Shingo called him over. “Oi, Nakazato, come here for a ‘sec.” He motioned him over with the cigarette he just lit to calm his stress. Takeshi had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind; Shingo sounded eerily calm for a change. This can’t be good. The girls looked over, hearing Shingo’s voice and (Y/N) smiled at him with a little wave of her fingers before turning her attention back to her friend who’s now leaning an arm on her shoulder and pointing across the street at something.

Takeshi approached Shingo, his hands in his pockets as he gave the Civic driver a nod in acknowledgement. “What’s up?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than hit up my girl?” Shingo gave him a pointed look of annoyance, his eyebrows arched as his eyes looked upward but his head barely moving, giving off a stronger aura of intimidation.

“You know she’s on our team, Shingo. The least I can do is be nice and strike up some conversation like I do with the rest of the guys.”

“You don’t give the guys that interested look you’ve been giving her for the last few minutes.” He paused, taking another drag of his cigarette, his tone remaining lower than usual, even with all the people chatting about. He didn’t want to draw attention and make a scene, potentially embarrassing his girlfriend if he had some outburst. Nah, this was strictly between him and Takeshi.

“Listen, I’m not trying to start some kind of split or anything with you two, I’m just interested in her potential as a racer. You’ve been teaching her the gumtape techniques, right? I was surprised she’s been learning it quickly and having to retrain herself in her braking style. ‘Mean... I have been curious how you scored her anyway; I was going to ask her that...” The R32 driver scratched the back of his somewhat bashfully, his cheeks a faint pink.

“Why the hell do you care so much about how I got her?” Shingo’s signature snarky tone resonated through his throat. Little did Takeshi know; it was her who got Shingo.

“Uh, no reason really… just,” Takeshi looked away, slightly embarrassed, “she’s hot you know? And talented.”

“Of course, I know she’s hot, dumbass, she’s my girlfriend.” He glared at Nakazato, not liking the idea of him staring at his woman so much. “So, if you’re done staring, which you should have been ages ago, why don’t you go try to pick up some other chick that ain’t my woman, huh.” He snarled possessively. “Out of all the chicks around here that admire and fawn over you cause you’re ‘so talented’ and have a ‘cool car’ you have to lay your eyes on my girl?”

Shingo noticed the way Takeshi side-eyed the road underneath them, (Y/N) did something similar when she knew she had been caught for something, whether it was for something light-hearted and playful or something serious. Shingo scoffed, “Seriously man? You seem to have all the women at your feet around here like you’re one of the fuckin’ RedSuns. Fuck, bro, you even have a thing for Sayuki even if she doesn’t like you and is a royal pain in the ass, can’t you go for someone else that isn’t (Y/N)?” He took another inhalation of his cigarette, this time quicker with an angry inhale and exhale.

“I’ll be damned if she has even the slightest notion of wanting to go for you. Just because you half-assedly gel your hair, listen to the same music bitches around here dig, and drive that shitty ass R32 doesn’t mean you can just walk in thinking you can win over my woman, got it?” he snarled viciously. He was seething and Takeshi could feel it rolling off the man in waves. Even his Civic, that sat silently, which he was sitting on the hood of seemed to be radiating a heavy form of malice that sent shivers down his spine. It was the same malicious aura Shingo and his ride radiated before the wreck and he still tapped bumpers.

Despite the chilling waves he was getting from Shingo and his car, Takeshi could pick up on the physical tenseness in the man’s muscles. His position on the hood of the Civic with his ankle sitting on his knee, rigid arms hanging over his raised leg. His head was tilted to one side slightly to get a better look at Nakazato, eyeing him up with a glare. Was Shingo really that scared of losing his girlfriend to someone else? The sheer possessiveness was also borderline protective with the words he unleashed like a spitfire. Like he was justifying reasons as to why she wouldn’t want anyone else. “Piss off Nakazato, you ain’t gettin’ her.” He said in another eerily calm tone; it was his final warning.

“Loud and clear, man. I promise I wasn’t trying to do anything; I just admire her driving capabilities. She learns quick is all – lets uh, just drop it, yeah? Sorry for bringing it up…” he raises his hands out of his pockets in surrender.

Just when the tension felt like it was finally going to die down and both men could get a second of peace and breathing room, one of the spectators noticed the two NightKids together. Approaching the two racers with his couple of buddies in tow, he speaks up.

“Aye, Shingo, how ‘ya been recovering man? Heard about that run in with the 8-6 during y’all’s race. How’d you lose to that junkheap and turn your car into one in the process?” he chuckled along with his buddies, looking back at them as they did so. The asshole wasn’t quiet with his announcement, gaining the sharp attention of Shingo’s girlfriend, not even fifty feet away. She watched silently, her head nearly turned all the way around while her body stayed put, like an owl stalking its prey without moving. As the idiot kept talking about Shin’s most recent fuck ups, she silently handed her coffee to her friend, turning fully and slowly stalking over with dark eyes, upper half and tilted head almost unmoving in contrast to her strides. The three men still cackling didn’t notice her at first until she stood right next to one of the guys on the left of the ‘leader’ of the group.

Feeling a presence next to him, he looked over to see a girl dressed in all black consisting of a punkish jacket, ripped jeans and combat boots, jumping back towards his friends at the sudden appearance. Her lip rings glinting red from the streetlamps and belt chains glistening and clinking slightly as she adjusted her hands in her pockets. Her eyes were narrow and dark, head tilted ominously as she stared up at them much like Shingo did to Takeshi. Being shorter than them in height, she found it to be a useful fear tactic. A few strands of her hair landed on her cheek, partially covering her eye. What freaked them out further was the fact she hadn’t blinked since she made eye contact with them. Her unblinking eyes then flicked to the so-called leader of the trio, daring him to speak.

Meanwhile, Shingo and Takeshi watched from the side. Takeshi could feel her silent anger, it nearly mimicked the same that came off Shingo not moments earlier. Shingo, however, smiled with amusement. The way these assholes talked a lot of shit, acting like the hottest motherfuckers around, only to start shitting themselves at his short goth girlfriend. Deep down he was grateful she always acted quickly to defend him.

“Would you be so kind as to fucking repeat that again? I’d love to hear it once more only to cut you off as I castrate those pathetic things you call balls. With. A. Spoon.” Her tone was low, deep, and her speech eerily proper for such an insult. She smiled at them, and they could’ve called it innocent if not for her eyes, murderous posture, and choice of words.

They quickly stuttered out apologies as they scrambled over each other trying to run off anywhere that wasn’t near her. Shingo stood up from his place on the hood, to come up beside her, wrapping his right arm around her back to rest his hand on the side of her hip, squeezing lightly as a silent notion to walk with him. She smiled warmly towards him, no longer holding hidden malice. Sneaking her left hand in his front right pants pocket to hold onto him they walked over to her friend who was snickering at the whole ordeal, calling them idiots and looking like deer in headlights that had enough brain cells left to run.

When it was announced that the race was coming to an end soon and the competitors only had a few more corners to cover, Shingo leaned into his girl’s ear. “Hey baby, why don’t we head out first and turn the downhill into a practice run for ‘ya, hmm? Go set up the tape n’ our phones, yeah? I’ll catch up to you in a minute and watch your form.” Kissing the shell of her ear, he handed her his phone and his keys. She nodded excitedly, practically prancing over to their matching EGs.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Shingo’s car she pulled the gumtape out of the glovebox cutting off two long strips. She called his phone with hers, pressing the answer button putting them both on speaker, then attaching the tape to the front of their phones, sticking his to the dashboard securely above the air vents. Doing the same to her phone in her car, she threw Shingo’s keys back at him as he reached the front of his car, talking with a few of the NightKids he was cool with.

Glancing over to her, he gave her a small swing of his head in the direction of the downhill with a cigarette dangling between the smirk he wore. She nearly giggled to herself as she hopped in her sleek black EG. Starting the car and exiting the parking lot slowly, avoiding the spectators still present, she pulled onto the road, the ecstatic sound of her engine reverberating through the pass. Shingo finished up his small talk with the boys, putting out his cigarette and starting the car, he peeled out of the parking lot, speeding along to catch up to his girl.

As (Y/N) cleared the first few corners she could see people on the sidelines ahead turning their heads in her direction as she sped the car around the corners and straightaways. Some commented about having never seen a black EG6 around Gunma before, let alone Myogi. After she had passed around the next corner, another Civic engine was heard, it was louder and the occasional backfire from the exhaust could be heard. The scarlet FR Killer drifted around the tight corner before recovering flawlessly, gaining speed and repeating the same maneuver. The dark aura it gave off as its headlights blinded the spectators' eyes, sent chills down their spines as they realized Shingo may not like having another EG6 to compete with locally.

Soon, his headlights appeared in her rearview mirrors, and she sighed in relief that he finally showed up. She was starting to get nervous and felt like she was going to mess up a corner if she kept handbraking to drift like she was. It always terrified her that it was going to spin out by using the handbrake to drift instead of the wheels like everyone else. He began closing the gap quickly and she felt giddier the closer he got.

The fact so many people were present put her under pressure as well. She braked and turned the wheel left, gripping around a corner, but slower than she did just last night. “You can take these corners a little faster baby, you’ll be fine.” She heard Shingo’s voice softly say from her phone’s speaker. Looking in her mirror again she saw his headlights getting bigger and could make out a bit of red.

“I know… this many people here are making me nervous… feel like I’m gonna fuck up. And the drifting still bothers me.” She sighed out, stepping on the gas at the start of the straightaway. His lights disappeared for a split second before shining back after a drift around the corner she just passed. At this point, almost everyone still on the sidelines watched the two EGs get closer together and they felt that same bone chilling aura come off the red one.

“Man, Shoji’s getting mad close to that other EG, you think he’s gonna tap the bumper like he does with the others?” one guy exclaimed, worried he was going to pull the move and they’d end up getting hit by the black mass of the new Civic. The word spread quickly down the pass with walkie talkies and phone calls that the NightKids second best was tailing behind the black Civic. All sorts of assumptions that he was reverting to his old ways of bumping into cars to make them lose control became the topic of the spectators. “But the black one is also an FF, it wouldn’t lose control that easily, bumped or not, right?” some would ask, others replying with, “If the driver isn’t skilled enough, anyone’s gonna spin out and lose control at a high-speed corner.”

The mass had mixed emotions, some being excited to see the FR Killer in action, and others worried someone was going to wreck and slam into a guardrail, taking others with them. As the two civics gained on the next corner, Shingo’s front bumper was at least only a few inches away from (Y/N)’s rear. “When we drift on this corner, pull the brake gently and only about a fourth of the way up to start, push it down some then back up again to hold the drift alright, baby?” Shingo instructed and she replied with a soft “Okay.”

They braked at the same time, entering their drifts in tandem. The crowd at the corner nearly shit themselves thinking Shingo had hit her, but someone called out with, “Holy shit, they’re drifting as close together as the Takahashi’s can!” The side of their car’s only inches apart and they recovered from the drift once again at the same time, and he held his position close behind her. Their engines roaring and growling in roughly the same tunes as they upshifted, accelerating down the short straightaway before repeating another drift.

“Damn it. I messed up those corners, Shinnn!” she whined, complaining that her line was off slightly. She heard him chuckle at the other end, “You did fine, hot stuff. You recovered outta that pretty well. Just keep goin’, I’m right behind ‘ya.”

“I feel like with you so close I’m gonna mess up a drift or something and take you with me. This handbrake stuff is kinda freaky, you sure we can’t drift with all the wheels like FRs if we put enough power in it to slide?”

“Nope. The slide comes from the brake; most effective way to drift our cars, sweetheart.” She groaned once more, him chuckling at her cute complaints.

When they reached the longest straight away of Myogi, he jerked the wheel to get in the lane beside her and line up their cars. He looked over at her, giving her one of those rare softish smirks she only ever saw when they were alone. She grinned, sticking her tongue out at him before locking eyes back on the road with a giggle. Rolling his eyes, he did the same and the crowd at the upcoming corner widened their eyes at the four headlights rapidly approaching them. “Why the hell are they next to each other now?! Neither can make a pass, the road’s too narrow here!”

“Shingo’s pissed, isn’t he? He seriously wants this guy off his home course.” Funny how no one outside of the cars knew of the little spectacle seconds prior and that Shingo’s supposed rival was a woman, let alone his girlfriend. “You’d think he’d appreciate another FF in the area, an EG6 on top of it, but damn, he’s really gotta be the best, huh?”

“Stay at the speed you’re goin’ and grip around the first half of this corner then pull the handbrake up almost halfway, release it, up again at a fourth, then down again. You know the wheel’s gonna give you that resistance, just keep pulling it right in small jolts, not too far though. Keep that left hand on your shifter and shift up to fifth just as you’re coming out of the corner, got it?” he instructed a bit more seriously, seeing as this was the largest corner on Myogi as well, providing the means for a longer drift. Replying with a quick “yeah,” Shingo braked first, taking his place back behind her and moving to the outside line, he copied her movements, watching her technique like a hawk and seeing her pull off a perfect drift and keeping the wheel resistance at bay beautifully. “Atta girl, baby.” he said proudly.

She smiled at his words, shifting to fifth gear and pulling out of the corner in tandem with him. The crowd’s jaws were to the floor, slowly looking at one another in disbelief. “Why do I feel like they’re working together…?” and “Man, I’ve got chills. I thought we were gonna die for a minute” came from several people.

Looking in her mirror, eyes landing on Shin’s Civic, she visibly relaxed. The sight of his car behind her always gave her comfort and reassurance when she was pushing her practices like this. He’s only ever bumped into her once and it helped to stabilize her when she began sliding too tightly. It was a practice night like this, no one on the pass and she started to turn into a corner too sharply, knowing she couldn’t pull herself out of it, he sped up just enough to tap the part of her bumper that was closest to him on the outside just before she started to slide and her car regained its grip on the road from straightening out some.

Since then, knowing he’s behind her and sensing if she does something too quickly or tightly, he’s there to buffer her. It was funny knowing the mere sight of his car in others’ mirrors meant trouble but to her it was a sign that her man had her back.

It didn’t take much longer for them to reach the end of the pass, and continue into the city, slowing down to the speed limits. They made small talk over the phone speakers, arriving home within minutes. Parking and taking the tape off their phones, they exit and lock the cars, heading up the stairs to their apartment. The second they cross the threshold of the door and the sound of it locking resonates, Shingo’s hands are on her hips, rubbing down to the back of her thighs and up to hold her ass. Squeezing the soft flesh he loves to revel in, she tilts her head up to look at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding her wrists.

“Something on your mind, sir?” she smirked knowingly, her eyes flicking between his own and his mouth as she bit her bottom lip, one of her lip rings disappearing behind her teeth in the way that drives him crazy.

“Call me that again and we’ll see where it gets you.” He growled, lowering his head to nip at her neck, his hands gripping the soft plush of her rear once more as she whispers his name with a drawl. Lifting her up, her legs instinctively wrap around his thin waist, and she can immediately feel the boner in his pants rubbing against her as he took them to their room. Dropping her back first into the bed, he hovered over her, intertwining a hand with hers as their lips met feverishly. “You are…” a deep kiss “so fucking hot…” another laced with tongue “when you drive.” He finished, breathily between kisses. Their tongues danced roughly, (Y/N)’s tongue piercing drew out the most enticing of moans from the man above her.

His hand travelled quickly to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head, then quickly unhooking her bra, throwing it across the room. His lightly calloused fingers were already working at the button of her jeans and the zipper, yanking them down by the thighs as she helped kick them off, bending forward to take her socks off with them. Leaving her in only lacy red panties, she smiled up innocently at him, seeing his mouth looking like it wanted to water at the sight.

“Got a little surprise for you, Shin.” His eyes flicked up to hers in curiosity, silently prompting her to reveal it. She flipped onto her stomach revealing that it was his name in the form of English letters, strung across the top string of her panties, like a charm bracelet, the letters were covered in small diamonds. He nearly came in his pants from the sight alone. Looking over her shoulder, she watched his reaction. Biting her lip as he reached out run his fingers over the letter and lace, he growled out, “You’re really making it difficult to not rip these off of you.”

“Well, I intend on wearing them again, so if you take them off nicely, you can have me any way you’d like.” She said with that mind-fucking seductive tone. Inhaling deeply, he did as she said, with much restraint. Taking hold of her thighs he began to twist them, silently telling her to turn back over. She made herself comfortable, lying back down, hair splayed around her head. Shingo knelt and hooked her thighs over his shoulders, spreading them out just a bit further before he hummed, pleased with the sight before him, he dove in, licking a flat stripe up her clit. Hearing her gasp for a breath was only the start of his motivation. Digging his fingers into the muscle of her thighs, he changed his game, pointing his tongue to push into her, curling it up, swirling, and licking repeatedly. Each time her thighs tensed, he’d rub his thumbs against them, a silent command she’s come to learn to relax them.

Curling his tongue up, he pushed it inward, pressing against her clit, earning him a string of delicious moans and whimpers of his name from her pretty throat. He knew his woman inside and out. He would have her convulsing within minutes as he kept up his ministrations. Her thighs would tense and relax occasionally, her hands tugging at his dark hair, especially when he prodded at certain areas.

“Shingo.” She huffed out, her pants continuing and growing heavier as she neared closer to release. When he started thrusting his tongue in and retracting outward with an upward curl, her whines grew, thighs tensed to the point no rubbing was going to relax them, and her fingers tangled tightly in his hair.

His signature high pitched chuckle emitted from the back of his throat as he eagerly lapped up her release, kneading her thighs as he hummed at the sweet taste of her. Her sweet moans and whines were music to his ears. Pulling away from her as her convulsions lessened to nothingness, he wiped the remaining bits around his mouth with his thumb before sucking it off, eyes half-lidded as he held her gaze.

“Look at you. All fucked out and we barely started, pretty girl. You want more o’ me?” he hovered over her once again, gently brushing strands of her hair out of her face, soaking in her features and cloudy eyes. She nodded almost tiredly, mumbling “Always want you, Shin. ‘M never gonna get enough of you.” Her pouty voice and the way her arms lift tiredly to reach for his forearms, holding onto him limply, made his dick twitch, reminding him how painfully constricted he was.

“Move up and get comfy baby girl, you know damn well you’re gonna take all of me.” Pushing himself upright, he grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling it up his back and over, stripping himself of it completely. (Y/N) was nearly drooling at the lovely sight. No matter how many times she’s seen him take his shirt off that way daily, it always sparked many thoughts in the wide and deep rabbit hole that was her mind.

She barely processed how quickly he freed himself of his pants and tight boxers before crawling on top of her, the sensation of his deliciously hard cock rubbing against her soaked folds pulling her from her light daze. Instinctively, she hooked her leg over his calf, a known sense of comfort and closeness she’d come to love so easily. His lips kiss across the collarbone she has the Kanji of his name tattooed on. Being there when she got it, it’s his favourite tattoo of hers. So much in fact, he purposely nips and bites and sucks at the skin next to it, leaving his mark on her soft skin as he pushes himself into her slowly. Breathing deeply, she squeezes his arm with one hand and claws at his back with the other. “Relax, babe… squeezin’ me too tight.” He strained out, breath hot against her skin.

Stopping his movements he waited until she relaxed enough before grasping her hip and bottoming out inside her in one large thrust. The loud moan she rewarded him with was sure to wake the neighbors, but he didn’t give a shit. He had to reward his girl for driving so well earlier. Give her some more motivation to practice even harder tomorrow night. “Fuck, you always take me so well, don’t ‘cha sweet girl?” she nodded quickly, wanting more and wiggling her hips to gain even the slightest friction.

Giving into her wishes, and his own, he set his usual rough and fast pace. What he may lack slightly compared to others in girth and length he certainly makes up for with skill and that slight upward curve that hits her g-spot head on within seconds. Her head tilts back further into the pillow, eyes half-lidded and rolling to the back of her head as she moans Shingo’s name, though quieter than the first time. Her nails claw deeper into his back, leaving red marks, even drawing small bits of blood in some spots as he whimpers out “Fuck baby, God, this pussy was made for my cock.” His whimpers turned to loud whines as he continued to pump inside of her, his words, sounds and the feeling of his cock overwhelming her as she clenches around him and he releases a higher pitched groan, his fingers digging further into her hip, the other taking a gentle hold around her throat. His thumb lightly rubs the side of her neck, and she opens her mouth partially, the small tip of her tongue protruding just past her teeth to bite it at the lovely feeling of her new necklace starting to gently squeeze but not cut off airflow. Her eyes roll back once more, this time the full whites of her eyes showing, a breathy whine vibrating against his hand.

Recognizing the familiar pattern of her walls fluttering and clenching against him on top of the sudden pants and deep breaths she takes in, he rolls his hips, getting a slightly deeper thrust in earning a hiccup from her. “S-Shin…” she stuttered his name several times, not being able to say it completely. “I know baby, you’ll get to cum soon. Hold out a little longer for me, yeah?” his words turned raspy, along with his breathy groans.

“I can’t. I can’t Shin… wanna cum, please.” Small tears threatened to fall at the corners of her eyes when he increased his brutal pace. It felt like he was hitting places deeper than she thought existed. “Heh. Look at that baby,” He panted a few times, “really were made for me, weren’t ‘cha? Can see myself a bit in you.” His words confused her hazy mind, she turned her head to the side, to see what he meant, her side vision not catching anything out of the ordinary until he took one of her hands, covering it completely with his bigger one and placing it down on her lower stomach, applying some pressure where she could feel that region rising and falling slightly every time he thrusted in and pulled out.

Mumbling his name then a string of incoherent words, she weakly grabbed the arm he used to keep balance, trying her best to grasp firmly despite her hand falling repeatedly the more she tried to hold onto him as she came. The string of convulses in her walls, had him cum right after, a line of curses pouring out of his mouth. Shingo dropped onto his arm, using his forearm and elbow to keep himself from crushing her. They stayed like this for a couple of minutes before Shingo grabbed her thigh, lifting it so her calf would wrap around his back as he slowly rolled them over into a sitting position with her straddling his pelvis.

She groaned weakly, his still throbbing cock inside of her. He got comfortable leaning back against the headboard as he ran a hand over her hair softly, his other hand resting on the softness of her thigh, rubbing and kneading it lightly. Her head rested on his shoulder; face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Her arms hung limply at her side, but she didn’t care, he wore her out good.

Through the haze of her mind and the delicious soreness between her thighs, she could feel a small trail of Shingo’s cum leak down her thigh, sticking to her gently, a ghostly reminder of how good he treats her. She makes a small move with the intent to get up and try to clean up before she falls asleep, however her man pushes her back down onto his cock by the hips and she chokes out a small hiccup. “Hold on baby. Want ‘cha to stay like this a ‘lil longer, wanna feel you a little closer to me, yeah?” he says lowly, his usual raspy voice once again present.

She only nodded slowly, her senses focusing more on the feeling his cum drip further down both of her thighs now. Hiding her face deeper into his neck and pressing her chest closer to his, he chuckled seeing the dim shine on her thigh. “Mmm, made quite a mess of you, haven’t I?” his hand tangled in her hair, pulling it gently to the side to show her neck, leaving a teasing, light kiss on the sensitive skin. “Heh, nothing I love more than showing you that you’re mine, right sweet girl?” he adjusts his hips, making his cock shift inside of her, eliciting a high-pitched whine from his girl.

“Shh, baby. Can’t help but wanna feel the inside of you more. You’re just so fuckin’ warm… makin’ me wanna stay like this forever. Just wanna keep you nice n’ warm, keep you full of my cum n’ never let you leave.” His voice sounded so sweet and soft in contrast to his delicious, filthy words.

“Mhmm,” she hummed lightly, “Always gonna want you, Shin.”

#initial d #initiald #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #shingo shoji #shingo shoji x reader #x reader #initial d x reader #x reader lemon #x reader smut #scarletnakazato

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natriae · 1 year

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Chapter 5

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Wakatoshi watched you guys run over and honestly looked startled with the speed in which the two of you came over. Isamu had been holding a volleyball and placed it gently on the table in front of Ushijima. His smile was just as wide as when he saw Sakusa. So much like Wakatoshi's it doesn't seem genuine, but it is.

"hey little guy," Wakatoshi had said to Isamu. If you'd never been in Isamu's room you'd think Ushijima was his favorite with how he was acting. Hopefully, he's just being petty because of his friend, and isn't actually a big fan of Ushijima, but that's just being hopeful. As Ushijima signs the volleyball for your son you can see him glancing quickly at you out of the corner of his eye. "so are you a big fan?" Wakatoshi questions. He was clearly trying to make conversation, but he seemed hesitant. His voice got deeper, more smooth than the last time you spoke to him. No more voice cracks. It's too sexy now. He looks at your son in way that he's trying to read him without asking to many questions.

"..no… sorry," your son says quietly. Wow Isamu, smooth. You wonder if Ushijima would have been effected by those words if he knew that it was his son who said them. He was always confident in his skills, only certain people's words affected him. Ushijima never out right said it, but he was a family man. He wanted to have kids of his own, and provide them with parents that would be there for them. Which is why it hurt so much more to leave. You didn't want to hurt him by taking his son away, and you didn't want to hurt Isamu by taking his dad away. But you were left with no choice. You couldn't guarantee that Ushijima would be there, plus now he's in the pros. Who knows if that would have happened if you stayed. "but i do think you're a great player, but MSBY will always be my favorite," Isamu said as damage control.

Ushijima chuckled a bit at your son's honesty. He looked down for a moment thinking of what to say and finally settled on. "so did you drag your sister over here to get her an autograph. Is she a fan?" Sister? is it really not obvious. Maybe it was because he saw you and was curious, but Ushijima very rarely talks that much. Good media training, huh.

"no, my mom is just here so i don't get lost," Isamu said in response. Proud that his mom was with him. Why would he tell him that though. I mean of course he would casually tell people you were his mom, but of all people him.

"your mom is very pretty. I hope you guys had a good time," Ushijima said. You blushed at his words, and looked at the ground. He always knew exactly how to compliment you. He tried to give a small smile, but it was definitely forced. He's always been monotoned, but you could tell he was sad. Did he realize that this was his son? Walking to the next team member Ushijima whispered quietly, "you left cause you had another man's child.. humm," you definitely weren't supposed to hear that, but you couldn't tell if you should be happy he didn't realize or not. He looked around the table for his pen that was resting on his ear, and that's when it hit you.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was still stupid. You can say that, you dated him in highschool. He had amazing grades, but he definitely passed his test by memorizing, and not actually learning the material. Everything he learned would be gone the minute he finished the test. You're honestly surprised he made it this far. Does he have someone in his life? A girlfriend? A boyfriend? Satori?

Moving on down the line you couldn't help yourself but want to correct him. No matter how upset you were at him. It's been years and both of you deserve closure. You want him to have the story straight, and understand where you were coming from. Once the two of you got to the end of the line, Ushijima began walking back to the locker rooms. Isamu was on his way to the bathroom, and it was just you standing at the double doors that connected the lobby to the gym. A small tap hit the back of your shoulder, and when you turned around a white jersey was right in front of your face. Your heart dropped to your ass. Looking up you can see his handsome face in full view. He got taller, if that was even possible, or maybe it was the fact you haven't seen him in so long. He opened his mouth once, but no words came out. He tried again and was able to get out a small hi.

"hi Ushijima," you said trying to hide your raging emotions. You wanted to hug him, and hide him in your basement(that you didn't have). You also wanted go beat him up, but give him a fat smooch over his perfect lips. Those feels were valid. He was your first love. You can hate and love him, right?

"hi, i uh i wanted to give you this," He handed you a small white paper with several numbers on it. It's his phone number, you know. It's still in your phone with his name and a heart. You couldn't bring yourself to change it or block it. His face was red and he was looking everywhere but you. Even after all these years you could still make this giant man stutter and blush when talking to you. Just like when you were 16 and he walked up to you in the court yard. Actually he sat next to you on the bench and stared at you for a minute before speaking. "you don't have to text me, but i don't know when i'll see you next," I want closure for whatever we had. You nodded at his words, and muttered out a small 'thanks'. He nodded once and walked by you into the locker rooms. Finally you can hear your heartbeating faster then normal. If you were a cartoon everyone would see it jumping out of your skin. Isamu came running up and tapped you on your spine. Startled at the tap you jumped, and turned around to just find your son's large eyes staring at you in confusion.

"you okay? you've been jumpy today," Isamu said. He was worried, obviously. Wondering why his mom was acting so weird ever since they got here.

"i'm fine a promise. My senses are just heightened today, girl stuff," you said. Not wanting to spill that you saw Ushijima, aka your ex boyfriend, aka his FATHER, and not only that but a student you barely knew in highschool is now flirting to you in front of your ex boyfriend. "i'm fine, i'm serious," you said to convince him. No you are not. Your holding your ex-boyfriend's phone number in your hand, literally. "let's go get some food," you said changing the conversation. You could see Isamu's eyebrow raise up at your statement behind his thick lenses.

The day was finally over and now you were left with your thoughts. Thank god Isamu didn't ask about you being "ushijima's girl". The long day probably made him forget. Staring at the screen of your phone, a small circlular picture of a sleeping teenage ushijima was there with his name under it with a heart. You really need to change that. The realtionship too. 'boyfriend'. You scoffed at that. It's been a decade and you still can't bring youself to change it. You look back at the photo. It was from a training camp Shiratorizawa went too. You guys were second years and he had snuck into the manager's dorm to see you. He got hit by a lot of pillows because he came over unannounced. When everyone realized he wasn't a perv they let him in, and he rested next to you. While you were telling him a story he fell asleep on your arm. His head was resting on your shoulder, and you had immediately pulled out your flip phone and snapped a quick picture of the boy. His eyes were shut and you could see his beautiful eyelashes, and the small moles on his face. The photo was such bad quality, but it held so much value to you. You wonder if he ever met up with his dad. That was the story you would tell him. You could tell he was stressed so you began to making up a story about how amazing it would be when he finally met up with his dad. He would get a passport and a plane ticket to California. Spend the summer with his dad on the beautiful university campus. He would get to play volleyball with his dad again and show him how much he improved. He would go to the beach with him and enjoy an american boardwalk. He'd get american fast food, and see the golden gate bridge. It would always brighten his mood, so it became a usual story you would tell. You hoped he was able to do all the fun things you guys talked about. Did he ever see his dad? Did he get to play volleyball with him? Did he find a pretty american girl? Did he kiss her? Did he do more then just kiss her? Did he at least use a condom? Omg what if he has Japanese american baby right now in California who he also doesn't know about. Throwing your phone down you begin to lightly smack your head to stop the intrusive thought that you definitely don't want to think about. "ugghhhh," you let out loud enough to get your emotions put, but not loud enough to wake up Isamu.

A buzz was heard from your phone now resting between two couch cushions. Picking it up you slowly turned around praying to whatever god there was that you didn't accidentally text Ushijima in your fit of anger. How embarrassing would it be to get a text from you ex that's just 'hdjskao' after a decade of not talking.

Finally flipping your phone over the screen lights up to show that you recieved a dm from none other then 'sakukiy' on Instagram. He really was stalking you huh. It's not like you posted much. Your last post was from 2013, only really updating anyone on your story, or through your tags. He was really ballsy to be dming an account that's mostly dead. Opening your phone your brought back to your contacts. Ushijima's name being burned into your eyes as you get yet another notification from 'sakukiy'. Why does Instagram have to tell the person you read their notification. Taking a deep breath you opened Instagram and swiped over to your dms. There was a now deleted account with the kanji of Wakatoshi left. He was the only person you ever really interacted with. Sharing posts you thought were funny with him, but you never realized his account was deleted. He probably has a new one now. One where he posts thirst traps…with his abs..god he probably has eight and it's probably- stop you need to open kiyoomi's messages it's already been five minutes. Clicking on the messages you see two texts.

'hey it's Kiyoomi'

'are you free for lunch sometime?'

Is he asking you on a date right now? Is this cheating. No, you and Ushijima are broken up. You have been stop feeling guilty for moving on. You haven't dated anyone this whole time. Saying you need to focus on Isamu and you have no time for love. In reality you didn't want to be hurt again, you didn't want isamu to get confused or hurt, and at this point being 29 and only having sex once is embarrassing. You're getting to far ahead of youself. He just asked you for lunch. Why not. He probably means just as friends.

'sure! when are you free' you respond.

tags: @mineta-phobic @rukia-uchiha-98 @ssc7514 @megumuro

so far who do u want to end up with?

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rainbowmoonstonestories · 7 months

Text

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 10

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know! I noticed that Tumblr sometimes won't let me tag everyone for some unknown reason, so if it comes to that I can at least send you a message to notify you.

Ko-Fi (If you ever wish to support my work)

Note: I posted an interlude with pictures on AO3, I highly recommend checking that!

You thought you could keep that little secret to yourself, but in the end, your curiosity got the best of you.

The elevator ride felt much longer than it actually was. You tried to calm your pulse while adjusting your hair and clothes, waiting for the doors to open at your desired floor. Upon reaching your destination, you stepped out of the elevator and tightly gripped the strap of your bag. As you looked around, you absorbed the lively atmosphere and energetic banter in the air as the cacophony of scissors slicing through fabric and sewing machines filled your ears.

A middle-aged woman with kind brown eyes and a big hair bun catched sight of you and met your gaze. She put her pen aside, left her desk, and approached you with a big, bright smile. As she moved closer, you could detect a sweet fragrance of roses.

“Y/N Y/LN, I presume?”

You swallowed down your growing tension and greeted her, "Good morning. Yes, it is me.”

She offered her hand and you quickly took it, shaking it lightly in return.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Amelia Foster, but everyone here calls me Amy. Please, don’t worry about the formalities with me.”

Her amiable manners and endearing reception instantly put you at ease. Your face involuntarily lit up and you returned her smile.

As time went by, other employees began to take notice of your presence. They walked away from their tasks to approach you, each of them introducing themself to you with a level of enthusiasm to which you were not accustomed. They treated you like an established member of their team, patting your shoulder, complimenting your appearance, and offering you tea and snacks as if you were a welcome guest in a warm household.

Remembering their names may be a challenging endeavor, but you were already feeling positive sensations from your potential future coworkers. There was only one person, a sullen-looking woman who stood apart from the forming crowd, not really instilling a good feeling in you. Although she exuded a sense of elegance, the crossed arms and subtle glare she directed at you gave off a rather unfavorable impression. Her deep, black curls looked as smooth as cotton, shimmering in the natural light coming from the windows. The fitting dress she was clothed in accentuated her feminine figure, and the crimson shade of her lips curved in what appeared to be a frown, reminiscent of a villainous character from an old Disney movie.

You couldn't dwell on it for too long because the sound of a door opening caught your attention. Before you could even turn your head, a pair of small yet strong arms wrapped around you, almost knocking you backward. A piercing scream reverberated through the room as Ella began to hop up and down, forcibly pulling you along with her. You felt pleased to see that, even after several years of separation, she still retained her youthful energy.

You returned her hug, feeling a bit self-conscious in front of the team witnessing such a display of affection. After removing herself from the embrace, she had a tear-filled gaze with her big emerald eyes. Her blonde tresses had extended in length, replacing her former cute bob with a style that framed her facial features more elegantly. Her makeup was more natural and simple compared to the thick eyeshadow she once loved utilizing.

Although she still resembled her younger self, you could clearly see a fully matured woman before you.

In a brief exchange, Ella conveyed her immense pleasure at reuniting with you, unafraid to show her exuberant emotions in front of her team. It was striking to you how everyone seemed more like a family than just a group of workers. It brought back memories of your previous job and of how Paul used to treat you at Fawney Rig.

Sometimes, you actually missed the man.

Taking your hand in a tight grip, Ella pulled you out of the room without much ceremony. The office appeared to be quite spacious, with multiple rooms and a long corridor connecting all of them. Your surroundings were completely unfamiliar to you, but you could visualize yourself regularly pacing back and forth across the location during work hours on a regular basis.

As you entered her office, Ella invited you to take a seat on the cozy couch for an informal conversation. After removing her high heels, she positioned herself against the velvety cushions, lifting her legs and comfortably stretching out. "Doesn't this bring back memories? It’s been so long since we’ve had a proper chat.”

You flashed a smile and took off your bag, placing it on the coffee table in front of the couch. "And now look at you; a successful married woman managing an empire.”

With a hearty chuckle, she proclaimed, "It is not the big castle with rainbow unicorns I wished for as a child, but I’m proud of what Oliver and I have built. After all, he is my Prince Charming.”

"It does feel like a dream just to be here right now. You've accomplished so much more than I ever could.”

Ella’s beaming face switched to a slight frown, and in a rapid motion, her hands found themselves resting atop yours. “Y/N, your talents will bring you far in life. I’m sure of it.”

For the first time, you were inclined to believe it.

"I want to apologize again for not reaching out. I really should have called you," she continued.

You shook your head lightly. "I didn't call you either.”

"I know that you only wanted me to have my space. Besides, life as an adult can get bumpy every now and then," she said, showing her understanding.

“Tell me about it.”

Ella let out a deep sigh, stroking your arm up and down in a friendly manner. "How about we catch up? You're not in a hurry, are you?”

Your friend had missed out on a significant amount of things over the past couple of years alone. Fortunately, you had decided to allot the entire day for yourself, being certain that discussing each other's lives, as well as recollecting events from the past, would demand a prolonged stretch of time before initiating the informal interview.

Regrettably, you were unable to divulge the complete particulars of your relationship with Morpheus, forced to devise a creative option with alterations to the original story, in an effort to fabricate a statement that would safeguard his identity. Despite this, your friend was exceedingly ecstatic upon hearing that you had found a good man. She immediatly expressed her desire to meet him in person, in addition to the vigorous impulse to strike your former lovers in the face.

The conversation progressed just like that, and eventually, you spoke of your close friend Hob Gadling, as well as your father's health problems and the struggles you had to go through to take care of him. Upon hearing the news, Ella was awed and almost broken into tears. She frequently visited your house and came to appreciate your father a great deal as you two grew up together. You could still vividly remember the sleepovers, the fake tents you used to build with sheets and chairs with his joyful participation, and the galaxy projector you both loved to admire as it cast beautiful stars and nebulae on the ceiling while drifting off to sleep.

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. You should have called me then," she said apologetically. “I feel like an awful friend right now. I never once asked you how you were doing,”

"I couldn't call anyone, Ella. That was not your burden, it was mine to deal with,” you explained. “I should offer you the same apology."

“Not really. You needed that more than I did.”

As you shifted your attention downwards, you noticed that she had begun to scratch the back of her right hand. Her skin immediately reddened as soon as her fingernails came into contact with it.

Without a second thought, you took hold of her left wrist and pulled it away. "I see that you never got rid of your old habit.”

Ella pressed her lips together, avoiding your eyes. “I did for some time, after meeting Oliver. Still, the itching comes back whenever I feel stressed or worried.”

"If you are concerned about me, don't be. I promise you, everything is okay now," you clarified reassuringly.

“I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

“It was better that way,” you stated. “You were following your dreams.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

"But it makes me feel better to see what an extraordinary woman you have become."

Ella let out a light chuckle, lightly tapping the damp skin under her eyes with her fingertips. "I'll cry if you keep doing that," she said with a wry smile, her voice tinged with a hint of playfulness.

"You already are!”

"Oh, shoosh.”

In an instant, it felt as if the two of you had never been apart. The nervousness and anxiety lingering in you easily dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity. With every shared secret and heartfelt joke, the bond between you grew as strong as it ever was, solidifying your certainties and eradicating your insecurities.

As time passed, the conversation eventually moved to the professional aspect. Ella began to inform you about the specific duties and tasks that their former Fashion Designer had been responsible for, as well as what was expected of you as his successor. Not only would you be in charge of the creative direction and elements for all future lines of their brand, but they also desired a more innovative approach to portraying their products in magazines and advertising boards. As Ella guided you through a tour of their entire structure, the Photo Studio and Graphic Laboratory took center stage, emphasizing their importance in achieving these goals.

To you, everything you were witnessing felt like an incredible dream coming true. The opportunity to be a part of this environment and take on such significant roles was beyond anything you had ever imagined and wished for.

"I know this is a lot to take on, especially since you haven't worked directly in this field," Ella acknowledged. "But I believe in your abilities and I trust that you would be the perfect choice.”

Being aware of your own capabilities, you placed your own faith in the knowledge you had acquired through your studies and the personal work you had accomplished over the years. You had taught yourself the skills that you believed were ideal for the position that Ella proposed, investing countless hours in various online courses on Design, Photography, and 3D development.

"I know I told you to take your time to decide, but I hope you can give me a response as soon as possible. We need to prepare for the Fashion show that will take place in three months, and without a designer, we are completely unprepared now.”

As Ella further elaborated upon the topic at hand, you couldn't contain your delight and kept examining the surrounding environment. A comparable chance had never arisen to you before, and you were determined not to let it slip away.

In the end, you gave her a piercing gaze, all the while maintaining a determined expression. “I accept.”

Ella found herself blinking multiple times, trying to confirm if she had understood your words correctly. “Wait, what?”

"I don't need to think about it, Ella. I know exactly what I want, and you can count on me.”

The tight, warm hug she gave you lasted for a few seconds, leaving you breathless with its robust squeeze. In response, Ella expressed her gratitude by using every bit of air in her lungs.

“Lucienne,” "Morpheus called his librarian's name as he walked along the shelves. “Did you want to see me?”

The woman raised her face from the sizable volume she was contemplating, her glasses almost slipped down from her nose doing so. "Yes, my lord," she responded. "It appears that I omitted something in my previous research. About your human lady.”

Morpheus' attention was immediately piqued. “Tell me more.”

Lucienne directed her gaze at the Lord of Dreams, releasing a deep sigh. She turned the book around to grant him a view of its contents. "Perhaps you should see for yourself," she suggested.

Morpheus hesitated, then took a step closer to examine the book, which lay spread open in front of him. His eyes scanned the words imprinted on the bound scrolls, and a frown formed on his countenance as he absorbed their revelation.

He tilted his head upwards, once again meeting Lucienne's worried eyes.

"Sir, are you going to tell her?" she asked.

Morpheus allowed his fingertips to gently glide across the page, engaging in deep contemplation to determine what alternatives were available to him.

"Uhm, if I can make a suggestion, I think she should probably know," Matthew intervened, flying over the table and landing next to Morpheus' hand.

"You are not incorrect, Matthew,” he confirmed. “"Nonetheless, this needs to be approached with the utmost caution.”

For a moment, the raven glanced at Lucienne before redirecting his dark, glassy eyes towards the Endless once more. “I suppose so. Still, this is something she might find interesting to learn about. I definitely would.”

Being someone with extensive knowledge surpassing that of a typical mortal regarding his realm, his siblings and their place in the universe, Morpheus understood that the amount of information you had acquired up until this moment was already quite overwhelming for you to process alone. In light of this, the Endless wanted to give you the necessary time to adjust to the several truths you had discovered. He aimed to avoid making the already complex situation worse and refrain from adding fuel to the active fire.

"Thank you, Lucienne," he said, closing the book. "I shall reflect on this matter.”

Lucienne nodded, watching as Morpheus silently left with the tome tucked under his arm, his coat billowing behind him as he walked briskly.

Upon arriving at your apartment, your mind was torn between two conflicting emotions. On one hand, you were in complete disbelief, yet also content and motivated, as the job of your dreams had materialized before your eyes. At the same time, you couldn't shake off the memory of the peculiar meeting you had earlier in the day, where those strange ladies discussed topics that were simply inconceivable to you.

The women you encountered seemed particularly eager in their efforts to portray Morpheus in a negative light. It seemed that their goal was to persuade you that your decision to align with him was impulsive and unwise. Furthermore, they claimed that the Lord of Dreams had once been married and conceived a child, whose name and story were well-documented and extensively explored in various literary works familiar to your kind.

The Fates, also known as the Kindly Ones, proclaimed that the Endless was directly responsible for the tragic fate of Orpheus. If the published books were indeed based on factual events, it was difficult for you to comprehend how the Endless could be solely and entirely accountable for the disastrous downfall of his son.

According to Greek mythology, Orpheus was the child of Calliope and Apollo, described as a famous musician, prophet, and celebrated poet. In the childhood fairytale you had with you, it was mentioned that, in certain instances, the King of Dreams was indeed associated with Apollo.

Despite your extensive research, you didn't manage to uncover any sort of information about Orpheus losing all his flesh at the behest of Apollo. You were on the verge of approaching Morpheus with a query, as the idea of him killing his own child was unimaginable and hard to believe.

However, Morpheus had started to open up about his past, describing the unfortunate circumstances that Nada had to endure because of his sorrow and broken heart. This made you question whether you should delve deeper into his personal matters, considering the sensitivity and privacy of the topic, which he probably wanted to forget.

That night, when you found him in your dreams, you realized that it wasn't the most appropriate moment to bring it up. With a warm smile masking your curiosity, you used the delightful news of your employment as a diversionary tactic. Morpheus, from his side, displayed no signs of suspecting anything, wholeheartedly congratulating you on your deserving success.

You were unaware that he was also hiding a crucial secret from you.

A month later, the job you took at Corbyn&Jones proved to be one of the most demanding positions you've ever held, but also the most enjoyable and fulfilling role you could have asked for. When you first met the CEO, you had to make an effort to remain composed and ensure that your friendship with his wife wouldn’t impact your performance. However, as you worked alongside Oliver, you became more familiar with each other and developed a mutual respect. You discovered that he was truly open, easygoing, and down-to-earth.

On top of that, your colleagues proved to be incredibly kind, supportive, and engaging individuals to work with. It didn't take long for you to form strong friendships with most of them, casually enjoying tea or coffee together during your short breaks.

In the office, you could rely on them to successfully complete tasks and execute projects. Every minute spent there felt more like a fun occurrence rather than a stressful routine focused solely on making money. Everything was perfect, in proper sync with the ideal working environment you had envisioned for yourself.

If there was anything to nitpick and scrutinize, the one factor that would be considered an impediment was that one woman, Maya Davies, who glowered at you from afar on the day you came in. According to what Ella told you, she used to be Isaac's right-hand person and had aspirations of becoming the new Fashion Designer of the company. Whenever you had to spend time alone with her for the sake of your work, she seemed to scrutinize you with contempt, speaking minimally and making a few passive-aggressive remarks. Ella admitted that Maya had a tendency to be boastful in her behavior, but she was still considered a valuable addition to their team for her marketing skills.

Eventually, you accepted the situation as it was. The issue with Maya was a minor obstacle that had minimal impact on the progress of your ongoing projects and dwelling on it would be a waste of time and effort.

Furthermore, your relationship with Morpheus remained smooth, even though you still couldn't define its true nature despite the clear affection he had for you. He would occasionally visit you in the Waking World or join you on your extensive nocturnal adventures in his realm of dreams, adding more depth to your ever growing connection and intimacy.

That night, you stood by Morpheus' side in front of the old tavern once known as The White Horse. Instead of its usual decrepit state, it appeared fully intact and emanated a typical medieval atmosphere from within.

"Wait, is this...?”

"It is the year 1389," he confirmed. “Come with me.”

You followed him with a sense of bewilderment, observing as he opened the door and gestured for you to step inside before him. As soon as you entered the tavern, you were immediately captivated by the soft glow of candlelight and the sight of numerous citizens adorned in antique garments. The tavern was bustling with men and women, sipping from large wooden mugs with metal handles, engrossed in lively conversations that filled the air with a vibrant murmur.

Morpheus guided you to an unoccupied table and pulled out a chair for you. Without saying a word, you settled yourself next to him and took another moment to inspect your surroundings.

“Can they see us?”

“They cannot. This is a recollection of the past,” he explained.

"A memory within a dream? I’m curious now. Why did you bring me here?”

Morpheus’ lips raised into a small grin as he looked at the farthest table a few feet away from your position. Following his line of sight, you noticed a group of men joyfully indulging in their leisure time at the tavern. They sat comfortably, clutching large tankards in their hands. Among them, you immediately recognized a familiar man, someone you couldn't possibly overlook.

“Hob?!”

There was no room for error, it was him. He had shoulder-length hair, a full beard, wore a dark brown cloak, and what appeared to be a commoner uniform with long sleeves underneath. He laughed and enjoyed his alcoholic drink, completely unaware of your presence and the future that awaited him.

Morpheus simply made an affirmative sound, silently observing the scene next to you.

And then, you heard Hob speaking, while Morpheus waved his hand in a subtle gesture to silence the other sounds around you and amplify the volume of what caught his interest.

“Look, I’ve seen death. I lost half my village to the Black Death. I fought under Buckingham in Burgundy, it’s not like I don’t know what death is.”

Hob's demeanor suddenly turned serious as he addressed the other men, sharing his perspective with them. “Death is… stupid.”

His friends chuckled. “You’re a fool, Hob.”

“Nobody has to die,” he insisted. “The only reason people die is… is ‘cause everyone does it. You all just go along with it. But not me.”

You couldn't help but let out an amused guffaw, vigorously shaking your head. While you could easily recognize his common attributes, it was apparent to you that Hob was clearly inexperienced and quite immature in comparison to the person he would eventually become.

"I've made up my mind; I'm not going to die," he said confidently.

The men around him burst into laughter, but Hob maintained his smile, unwavering in the face of their expected reaction.

“Hobs, death comes for every man.”

“You don’t know that, I might get lucky. There’s always a first time. There’s so much to do, so many things to see.” He took hold of his tankard again. “Women to swive. Ale to drink. People to drink with.”

With that, Hob raised his arm and the others followed suit, cheering and clinking their tankards together in a lively toast.

Morpheus gestured with his hand once more, directing your attention to two other figures, a man and a woman, who also bore a striking resemblance to someone you knew. A younger version of Morpheus, with his longer hair and a dark tunic that matched the time period, stood before his sister, who in turn was disguising herself as a nun.

They were both the same, except for their different appearances.

With a warm, affectionate smile, you turned to the Morpheus sitting beside you, gently running your fingers through his short, tousled locks. "Nice hair," you remarked, referring to the style he had in 1389.

Morpheus returned your smile with a slight curve of his lips.

“Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?” Past Morpheus asked.

Teleute looked at him with a satisfied expression. “You could find out.”

He appeared delighted, intrigued by his sister's statement. "How?”

“I could grant him his wish,” she replied.

The other Endless raised his eyebrows, his mouth spreading into a mischievous grin. “Do that and he will be begging for death within a century, I assure you.”

“This will prove very interesting.”

Both siblings turned their gaze back to Hob's table, listening to the ongoing conversation among the mortal men.

“What will you do with all that life?”

“I can find better friends than you, I can tell you that.”

You giggled once more, resting your head against your palm as you propped your elbow on the tabletop.

Death then looked at Dream once more. “Are you gonna tell him, or should I?”

Morpheus gazed at her with the same smile as before, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes. “I shall.”

As he turned to make his way to the table, Teleute replied, "Very well, little brother." She watched him walk away with a satisfied expression on her face, and before turning away, she repeated, "Very well.”

Morpheus approached Hob's seated position with deliberate steps, coming to a stop and placing one hand on top of the other. In that moment, you observed that he had adorned himself with the same ruby that Roderick Burgess had stolen in 1916.

Silence descended upon the ones present as Hob’s attention was captured by with the enigmatic figure who stood tall near his chair.

“Did I hear you say you have no intention of ever dying?” Morpheus inquired.

Hob showed a hint of confusion, but he still went along with it, letting out a faint chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

“Then you must tell me what it’s like,” Morpheus stated.

Hob continued to laugh.

“Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling,” Hob's face suddenly registered shock as he heard his name spoken by a complete stranger. “In this tavern of the White Horse in 100 years.”

Hob's companions laughed wholeheartedly, while Hob himself remained surprised. He showed an increased level of curiosity towards the man in front of him.

“A hundred years and I’m Pope Urban,” said one of his friends.

Meanwhile, Morpheus swiftly turned to his sister, who gave him an encouraging nod. He responded to her gesture with equal confidence.

“Don’t mind them,” Hob interjected. “A hundred years’ time, on this day?”

Morpheus agreed with an affirmative tilt of his head.

“I will see you in the year of our Lord 1489, then.”

After a moment of contented reflection, the Endless departed, holding the men's inquisitive gazes until he disappeared from view.

“Who was that, then, Hobsie?”

“Haven’t a clue. But tell you what, I’ll ask him in 100 years’ time.”

The surroundings suddenly became brighter and blurrier. You could still hear the voices of people conversing in the distance, but it was as if someone had turned down the volume of a television, leaving only a faint, unintelligible noise in the background.

And so, you turned to Morpheus, who met your gaze with silence, his eyes unwavering.

"Hob has told me about this day. It's remarkable how vivid his memories are, considering how much time has passed.”

And then your gaze shifted to his chest, searching for the missing ruby that was nowhere to be found. You delicately touched the fabric of his shirt with the tips of your fingers, tracing a path down to his upper abdomen.

“You’re not wearing the pendant.”

“No. The ruby was destroyed.”

“Oh.”

“No matter. The power that was enclosed into that jewel has returned to me.”

You looked down, taking one of his hands between yours, firmly gripping it as you placed it on the table. "Sometimes, I find myself pondering what you revealed to me that day. It pains my heart whenever I recall seeing you trapped in that cage.”

“Y/N-”

"You're okay now, right?”

Morpheus parted his lips as if about to respond to your question, but instead, he moved his beautiful blue eyes to the side, lost in contemplation. After a moment, he tightened his hold on your hand, offering a reassuring caress. “I am.”

A sense of tranquility washed over you as you heard his response. You reciprocated with a warm, genuine smile and gently brushed the surface of his palm with your thumb. You remained in that position for a while, gazing at each other's faces in silence.

Meanwhile, your mind drifted to the Fates and their revelations about Morpheus' son, yet you still lacked the courage to broach the subject in his presence. Once again, you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself, even though the burden of the secret was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as time passed by.

"Dad, do I have any Greek roots?”

As soon as you posed that question to him, your father suddenly choked on his water. Tears welled up in his eyes as he desperately tried to regain his composure, coughing violently. You repeatedly patted him on the back, offering comfort as he gasped for breath.

"Are you all right?”

“Y-yes,” he declared, loudly clearing his throat. “I’m okay, I was drinking too fast.” You waited for him to stabilize himself, inhaling at a slower pace. “Greek roots? Where did that come from?”

"One of my coworkers asked me if I’m partially Greek because of my features," you lied with a subtle shrug. "I don't know much about our family, so I was curious.”

Your father demonstrated a rather odd nervousness, wiping his mouth and kneading the rear of his neck. "Well, if you do, it certainly must be from your mother's side.”

Upon mentioning his lover, you noticed a significant degree of melancholy and distress befall on your father. Your chest tightened with the sight of his despondent state, which led you to hastily grasp his shoulder in an earnest way.

"I'm so sorry, dad. I know how much it pains you to talk about her.”

He released a shaky sigh, smiling at you. “It’s okay, lovey. It’s been a long time.”

“But you still haven’t moved on.”

It took a brief moment for your father to come up with a reply. “No, I have not.”

"I can only imagine how hard it's been for you," you said. "The day I was born is also the day she passed away. Sometimes, I can't help but think that it was all my fault.”

“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “My dear, none of that happened because of you.”

“I just… I wish you could be happy, Dad.”

“Oh, but I am, sweetie. Even more so now that you’re following your dreams.”

You absentmindedly started toying with the food on your plate, rotating the fork on its surface. "Don't you get lonely? Now that Miss Bailey is no longer assisting you 24/7.”

He scoffed. "As good as she is in her profession, having her glued to my ass all day was not pleasant.”

A slight laugh escaped your throat. "I bet she's glad too. You drove her nuts.”

"Come on! Do you know how frustrating it is to have her following you to the bathroom's door? Good thing that I could still clean my butt on my own.”

The process of finishing your lunch proved to be a considerable challenge, with you chortling at all the jokes that your father offered. You recalled Morpheus' words about the connection between the two of you, which coud have enabled him to directly benefit from an Endless presence through you. As a result, seeing him sitting at the table, beaming and radiating vitality, made it seem as though he had never been ill in the first place.

And yet, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling of something mysterious lurking beneath the surface. There was an indescribable sense of an imposing secret being concealed from you, leaving you unable to pinpoint exactly what it was.

Each day that went by, you became increasingly adept in your profession. The constantly rapid pace didn't seem to faze you, as you were completely absorbed in your creative pursuits. You would bring your unfinished assignments home and continue working on them until late into the night, fully engrossed in the process, without even glancing at the clock. Morpheus had to visit you to make sure everything was under control, as your absence from the Dreaming during sleep time was deemed unusual.

It was both amusing and flattering to see him sulking for attention, but the last thing you wanted was to cause him any worry, particularly in light of the past events involving Nada.

More often than not, you had to assure him that you would join him soon enough, rather than letting your work consume you until the early hours of the morning.

If anything, immersing yourself in a busy schedule helped keep your mind occupied with a multitude of things to process, preventing you from lingering on what the Kindly Ones had told you once again. The more you found yourself in his company, the harder it became to suppress your curiosity as it swam through you and threatened to emerge. Simultaneously, you yearned to provide him with solace for his profound loss, regardless of the passage of time.

One night, you came to the realization that you simply couldn't withhold it from him any longer. It took you a moment to recall your intentions as you crossed the threshold from your world to the realm of dreams, but once you did, you were completely unsure of how to initiate the conversation.

Although he was showcasing a variety of marvels and breathtaking landscapes that you could only imagine stumbling upon in the Waking World, you found it difficult to uphold your attentiveness on Morpheus’ face.

Eventually, the Endless concluded his narrative and turned his frowning gaze towards you. “My love?”

As soon as you heard his voice calling you, you turned back to him in a hazy state. “Mh?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“What is?”

“You are not listening to me. You seem… lost.”

“Poor Y/N, so naive and lost.”

“I’m not lost.”

“Yes you are, my child. We came to warn you, little one.”

You pondered the responses you could provide, but every excuse appeared feeble and ineffective.

"I have something to talk to you about,” you admitted in the end.

Morpheus tilted his head slightly. "Go on.”

With the opportunity to finally release the burden from your chest, you now felt uncertain, almost fearful, as you looked into his profound and intense eyes, preparing to discuss something so personal and dramatic. You were tempted to abandon the idea, to fabricate a different story and redirect his attention elsewhere, but you had never been skilled at deception. It wasn’t your forte.

Taking a deep breath, you began to explain. "The day I got my job, I encountered someone on my way to the interview. Three women dressed in black materialized before me, introducing themselves as 'The Kindly Ones'.”

A change came over Morpheus immediately. You could clearly notice the tension in his jaw, and his demeanor underwent a complete shift. His body became utterly motionless, as if he had been struck by a spell leading to his paralysis. "What?”

Your heart raced, as his evident shock mixed with anger did not bode well.

"I don't even know what they wanted from me," you continued with your speech. "They spoke in riddles, but... I believe their intention was to warn me about something. About... you.”

You could sense the ground slipping away beneath you as he closed his eyes in surrender.

"They revealed things to me, Morpheus. They spoke about your past, about something I shouldn't have learned about. Not like that.”

Crossing your arms, you felt a tremble shaking you as the wind picked up and the sky darkened once again, mirroring the alteration in his mood.

At that moment, you came to the realization that you probably should have let it go, brushed it off, and moved on from it all. But despite knowing it was a wrong thing to do, a part of you was desperate for more information directly from the source.

Morpheus remained silent, his neck growing even more rigid, his eyes sparkling as he fixed his gaze upon you with even greater intensity.

Yes, you should have stopped right there and then, as you knew. And yet, you failed to do so.

"They told me you were married to Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry. And that you had a son, Orpheus... who, according to them, perished by your own hand.”

“Y/N.”

The way he uttered your name sent chills down your spine, his voice resonating with a terrifying power, both formidable and filled with an ominous presence.

"Choose your words wisely.”

For the very first time, you were feeling positively intimidated by the man you had fallen in love with. Your enchanting Dream, so kind and wonderfully magical, now felt like a haunting nightmare ready to consume you.

"Please forgive me, I... I didn't mean to upset you," you said in your defense, as futile as it may be. "I realize that this is not something to be taken lightly. I simply want to understand how you're feeling about it, what led them to believe you were at fault.”

Hearing that, Morpheus appeared to grow even more enraged. "You dare meddle with my affairs?”

Your eyes were so wide that you thought they could pop out of their sockets at any random point. “No! I would never do that!” A loud thunderclap made you jump on the spot. "Morpheus, please. I’m trying to make sense of what I’ve heard. All mortals are familiar with the story of your son, what happened with Hades, with Eurydice, with the Maeneads. It has been documented in numerous books and performed in countless theatrical works for many years.”

This time, the Endless remained silent, but the way he scrutinized you now, with such a stark and heartless expression, made you yearn to rewind your dream and restrain yourself from speaking the truth in the first place.

You let the cat out of the bag, and there was no way for you to put it back into it.

"If these depictions are based on reality, if our narrative is grounded in actual events, why are the Fates spreading lies about you?”

As menacing and invincible as he could be, Morpheus was not the monster that everyone portrayed him to be. Roderick and Alex Burgess, the former basement guards, now the Kindly Ones. How much suffering and persecution did he have to endure?

Eventually, Morpheus revealed a truth that was not what you were expecting to hear.

“Because it is, in fact, quite true.”

You looked at him in disbelief, carefully observing his body language and searching for a glimmer of hope in his somber, reddened eyes.

“I don’t believe it,” you declared.

“Whether you do or don’t, it cannot change what I have done.”

"Are you suggesting that the Maeneads were not real? That you were the one who tore your own son apart? No, I'm not buying it. I know you are better than that.”

He approached you, closing the distance until his face was just inches away from your nose. The version of him standing before you was hardly recognizable, twisted by a darkness far beyond what you could had ever imagined.

But deep down, you knew you shouldn't have been surprised. After all, he was not only the King of Dreams but also the ruler of Nightmares.

“You know nothing about me.”

The words stung, but you made a conscious choice to stay strong and unwavering.

"You're right, maybe I don't. But I trusted you when nobody else did, even without you speaking a single word to me.”

Morpheus couldn't deny the strength of your will, but given his pride, you should have anticipated his next response.

"I never sought your trust. I did not ask a human like you to come to my aid.”

With regards to the reason for his sudden change in temperament and the subsequent surge of rage, it was understandable to witness him shielding himself with a cold and emotionless temperament. Nevertheless, the venom in his words found a way to penetrate your chest, causing your heart to constrict in pain. You took in a sharp breath, and a single tear escaped from the corner of your eye, rolling down your cheek.

"This isn't fair," you replied, your voice breaking.

“No. It is not.”

You could tell that there was something more, something he clearly didn't want to reveal. You understood that he didn't desire to hurt you, as causing harm to others, like he did to Nada, was his way of concealing and alleviating his own suffering.

“Please, don’t do this. I was taken by those three, just tell me what happened. What truly happened.”

Morpheus gulped a couple of times, pressing his eyebrows together and intently observing you with a smidge of annoyance, blended with astonishment, at your stubbornness.

You had to consider the possible repercussions. It was within the realm of possibility that he would simply choose to banish you from the Dreaming, without providing a response to what you wanted to know. Still, you didn't retreat, holding on to your consciousness to stay asleep and lucid for as long as necessary.

Finally, he complied. "Very well. If that is what you wish.”

“Yes.”

Morpheus stepped back, distancing himself from your personal space and averting his eyes. “My son came to me, seeked my assistance to plead his case to Hades. To bring back the soul of his deceased wife.”

“And did you?”

“I did not.”

An ominous black fog was gradually forming in the distance, stealthily covering the ocean with a deathly curtain of gloom.

“I told him to bid the dead farewell, to grieve, and to continue with his life.”

You listened to his tale, anticipating more information being appended to it. Once he met your gaze again without further expanding on what he had mentioned, you found yourself shrouded in a cloud of bafflement.

“Wait, that’s it…?”

“You asked.”

Your mouth was agape, but no sound emanated from it. While you could accept a certain level of resentment held towards him for turning Orpheus down, which was followed by his son’s subsequent decision to travel to the Underworld alone, it was difficult for you to believe that this was the only reason leading the young man down a similar path.

"Have you seriously considered yourself at fault, because ot this?" you asked him, unable to accept such an explanation. "We all have the power to make choices, Morpheus. There are always different circumstances that influence our destiny and lead to different outcomes. Orpheus willingly chose to go to the Underworld, you didn't force him.”

"You merely feign understanding, when the matter is far beyond your range of comprehension,” he said firmly.

"I don't need to pretend anything. What else is there to understand apart from what you just told me?" you snapped, clearly frustrated in your voice.

In an instant, you could feel your own body vibrate in accordance with his thunderous words.

"Are you aware of the significance of a father picking the head of his son on the seashore?” He questioned.

“I-”

You were left speechless, frozen in place, as you contemplated the thought of Morpheus facing that very same fate. You were aware of the risks your revelation could have brought to you and him, but you didn't stop reflecting, not even for a second, on the sorrowful memories that would have been unearthed.

It was well within your rights to inquire following the interaction that took place with the Kindly Ones. Nevertheless, it was a story that held no connection to your personal existence. You had faith in Morpheus, therefore you would have never asserted that he was the abomination whom the Fates seemed to desire him to be. Why did you allow your curiosity to completely override his sentiments?

"Hold your tongue when touching upon subjects that do not concern you.”

The way he spoke to you made you feel like you had been reduced to an insignificant speck of dirt in his eyes. He viewed you as a creature that he detested, one with whom he didn't want to have anything in common with, ever again.

“Morpheus-”

“Leave.”

“Please, just let me-”

“This dream is over.”

You sprung awake with a heavy gasp escaping your lips, feeling disoriented as your vision adjusted to the gentle glow of your room, emanating from the window. The sun had not yet appeared on the horizon, but you were convinced that it would be impossible for you to drift back to sleep given your current distress.

You straightened your posture on the mattress, allowing the sheets to slip off your body as you stared at your hands and replayed the sequence of events from your dream in your mind. The seashell resting on your nightstand glistened with a captivating radiance, containing a fragment of the realm from which you had just been banished, probably forever.

You sucked in the air, feeling your innards writhing and your chest being ablaze from a raging fire that could not be tamed or contained.

"What have I done..." you whispered aloud, allowing guilt to course through your entire being for the rest of the night.

You messed up. Big time.

The following day, everyone noticed that the energy had dissipated from you during your work hours. While you didn't allow that to influence the caliber of your services, your usual smile was extinct from your face, and your eyes appeared to be as blank as those of a doll.

Due to your significant inner exasperation, you were unable to care in any way regarding Maya's provocations. She continued issuing them, notwithstanding your annoyance with everything around you.

"Were you bitten by a spider this morning?" she taunted you, sipping her coffee while sitting on the table in the break room with one leg crossed over the other. “You look terrible.”

You inhaled deeply, waiting for your own beverage to be produced by the machine. "Ever the sweet snowflake, are you, Maya?”

The woman let out a forceful giggle as she swished her voluminous, curly ink-black hair off her shoulders. “I’m just stating facts.”

Once your warm drink finished being dispensed, you took it in your hand and put on one of the fakest, most devilish grins your lips had ever formed. Without faltering, you turned to the poisonous woman, delivering such a cold, piercing look that her own smirk was wiped away like never before.

"I see you like playing the part of the Evil Queen like an average middle school girl, yet you should know how those stories typically end," you calmly remarked, your words laced with a cutting edge. "I win, you lose. Try to keep that in mind, will you?”

Seeing her rendered speechless was utterly priceless for you. You had constantly tried to ignore her hostility, pretending like you had no qualms with her constant jealousy. On that particular day, you were so mentally drained that you solely wanted a semblance of peace and seclusion, something that she had always failed to provide.

As you left, you could hear her groaning to herself, relishing in the way she cursed as you continued walking along the corridor with a heavy heart.

You didn't want to fall asleep that night. For all you knew, Morpheus no longer wanted to see your face in his realm again after what you did.

You kept your mind occupied as much as possible, engaging in your typical activities such as work, reading, and watching TV. You were consuming copious amounts of coffee with the intention of staying awake and maintaining your alertness intact.

Deep down, you harbored the hope that Morpheus would reappear, concerned about your absence from the Dreaming and prepared to patch things up with you after calming himself down. Be that as it may, even though the clock read 4 a.m., there was still no trace of him in your apartment.

You waited, praying with great fervor, and made a tremendous effort not to shed tears over the spilt milk. As the sunlight slowly spread across the sky, you felt completely exhausted and profoundly heartbroken.

Back at work, you felt like a walking dead, moving slowly around the office, typing on your computer, and taking charge of the photography session for your debut collection. Despite witnessing your own creations come to fruition, you couldn't find any joy in anything. The struggle to stay focused on your tasks was overwhelming, leaving you devoid of the happiness you should have felt.

Eventually, it became evident to Ella that you were not behaving like yourself anymore. Out of nowhere, she grasped your arm and silently led you to her office, while informing the rest of the team about your break.

She made you sit on her couch and looked straight into your eyes. "All right, sweetie, it's time to spill the beans.”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me. You've been acting strange since yesterday, so tell me what's going on.”

“Are you asking as my boss?”

“I’m asking as your friend."

After a brief pause, you responded, "It's not a big deal, really.”

“Oh no, I won’t accept that.”

You watched as she filled a couple of empty glasses with a drink. She handed one to you across the coffee table and asked, "Y/N, is your father all right?”

You nodded slightly and took a quick sip of your drink. "Don't worry, he's perfectly fine.”

“What’s bothering you, then?”

You let out a long, anguished sigh, carefully setting the glass down and crossing your fingers over one knee. “I think I broke up with my boyfriend,” you confessed.

‘Was he even my boyfriend in the end?’

She froze in her actions, her eyes widening as she sat up straight, intensely staring at you. "Wait, are you serious? I thought you two were doing really well."

"This time, it was actually my fault. Mostly, at least."

Ella turned her glass in her hand, glancing at the swirling liquid. "Did you have an argument?"

"We did. I made him angry.”

“How?”

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the couch. Your drink was completely forgotten. "You see, I heard something from someone. It's a secret from his past, something really significant and personal," you explained. “I wanted to ask him about it, but I thought it would be better to just wait and see if he would share it himself. He’s only just started opening up to me and we haven’t known each other for very long.”

Ella smiled warmly at you. "Curiosity always kills the cat. So, did you confront him about it?”

"I did. I just didn't want to keep any secrets from him. Unfortunately, I pushed things a little too far. I touched upon a very sensitive subject, and he didn't appreciate it.”

Ella hummed as she brought her glass to her lips, finishing the last of her drink. "And you haven't spoken since then?”

"No. He doesn't want to see me or hear from me, evidently.”

She licked her lips, savoring the lingering taste of liquor. "Do you love him?”

"I've never loved anyone the way I love him.”

“Does he know that?”

“I…. think he might….?”

Her jaw dropped. "Are you telling me that he doesn't even know about your feelings?”

You shook your head. "It's... complicated. He's different from the other men I've dated.”

“Aren’t they always?”

If only you could explain to her just how different and unique Morpheus was. “I don’t know what to do, Ella. I wish I could apologize to him.”

She pondered for a moment, a wide grin spreading across her face as she realized something. "Why don't you write him a letter?”

“A… letter?”

"I know it may seem old-fashioned, but I did that with Oliver when we broke up a few years ago. It helped me release the emotions I had inside. I opened my heart to him and wrote down everything I felt.”

You blinked in surprise. "You and Oliver broke up…?”

"At least twice. We had our ups and downs, but we managed to work through it.”

You pondered the logistics of sending your personal correspondence to Dream Of the Endless. Was there even a way to communicate with the Dreaming from the Waking World without falling asleep first?

Summoning Matthew, the raven who could travel between the two worlds, seemed like a good way to deliver your message to Dream. However, you were unsure of how to call upon him, as Morpheus was the only one who could track his movements and see through his eyes.

Nevertheless, the concept did not seem like it would be a bad idea to you.

"Thank you, Ella. I will definitely take your suggestion into consideration.”

"Great! Go ahead, reconcile, kiss and make babies!”

“Ella!”

“What?”

Describing Morpheus as restless would be an understatement. Ever since he awakened you from the Dreaming, he had been experiencing excruciating convulsions and constriction in his insides. As a powerful and ancient entity, it was quite atypical for him to experience such physical torment.

Morpheus was enraged, truly. But besides that, he was berating himself for being too quick-witted and allowing his arrogance and pride to take over once again. He was already consumed by self-hatred for his impulsive outburst, and he actually felt more upset with the Kindly Ones than with you.

Despite your efforts to delve deeper into his most agonizing memory, one he had tirelessly tried to bury for eternity, your ultimate objective was for him to confront his guilt and find solace. Unlike everyone else, you didn't accept the Fates' words at face value as they had intended. You managed to keep your encounter with them hidden for over a month, always projecting unwavering confidence and fearlessness in his presence.

In fact, he didn't nourish any hatred towards you. On the contrary, he yearned for your return to the Dreaming, longing to embrace you in his arms. He eagerly awaited your arrival the previous night, but to his dismay, you were nowhere to be found within the depths of his realm.

From a distance, Matthew watched you. And from this, Morpheus understood that you resisted seeking rest and remained anchored to the Waking World until morning. Not only did he make you cry, but he also prevented you from falling asleep.

Would you ever be willing to forgive him for his cruelty? Would you let him take you back, or would you despise him and abandon him like Calliope did before you?

As he became lost in his thoughts, Lucienne cautiously entered the Throne Room. Morpheus sat there like a despondent cat, his long coat draped over the stairs as he perched there.

"My Lord," she said, interrupting his self-loathing. "Something has arrived. I believe this is for you.”

Morpheus glanced up, extending his hand to receive the folded paper that she was holding. “What is it?”

"It seems to be a letter, sir," she said. "I will leave you to it.”

Lucienne spun on her heels and walked away, the sound of her footsteps reverberating off the walls until she disappeared into the library. Morpheus gazed at the paper with curiosity, his name beautifully written on the outside in graceful calligraphy.

In an instant, his heart leaped into his throat, for he knew precisely who had penned it.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 11 (coming soon) ->

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#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman fanfic #story: let your dreams be your wings

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