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#whenever people comment on my fic saying that it feels so true to the show or like an actual episode i just...feel so warm

onyx-syn · 8 months

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How LA! Buggy and LA! Mihawk would react to you wearing Lingerie Headcanons

Warnings: Spicy, Lingerie, Flirting, and Talks of sex

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

A/N: Okay okay okay- I know I keep dragging on the fics I've been working on due to work but it will be posted soon🥺❤️

Buggy

🌹He never expects you to wear lingerie as he himself has never expected to be with someone, especially in a committed relationship. Yes he would make a flirtatious/outward comment to those he was attracted to, but for the same attention to be directed towards him was unexpected to say the least

🌹How he would get annoyed at being flirted with even with the slightest bit of a comment would make him into an annoyed flustered, claiming aloud he wasn't but that wouldn't stop the smile from appearing on his lips

🌹so imagine his absolute delight surprise when his creek eyes were greeted by an amazing sight of his partner wearing a lingerie set

🌹Buggy would have a devilish smile plastered across his cheeks, giggling in a euphoric sense as he saw you enter your twos room wearing such a lewd outfit

- "Well, well, well~" Buggy spoke, his voice low as his eyes set on you, the 'beauty of the ball' he would call you to others. Your body in a beautiful delicate fabric of clothing, clenched to your skin, showing off so much yet so little. Buggy's body laid comfortable on the bed of your bedroom, sitting straight up as he gestured you to walk over. Once you walked over to him, the man -feared by many across the East Blue Sea- would be on his knees in front of you.

His gloved hands grasping at the skin of your thighs, moving up and down slowly, pinching lightly. He would be staring up right at you, taking in all the glory and beauty of you standing like a god/goddess in his presence. He spoke, his red stained lips pressing onto your exposed skin of your thighs or hips, kissing them.

"You're so beautiful doll, looking like a true performer for the show. My show~" He stated, his heart racing at a million miles per hour, almost couldn't stand seeing you in such a state as it brought a sensational feeling to him he never knew he needed to see.

"Trying to get me a private show now huh?~" As he continued to speak, his hands reached further up your sides, grazing your hips, feeling how the switch from your delicate skin to the sheer fabric of clothing and how tight it was against your skin. It was a small change, but oh boy did it do something to him.

People were afraid of a man, seeing the act he would put off in an open setting. Whenever we would perform a show, he was seen as a 'freak of nature', a danger to society which made people across the seas to fear him. Not just as a man, but as a pirate.

But here, here it was different.

Here in the privates and comforts of his quarters, he could enjoy the quiet piece of time and admire the beauty that he has which was you. If people were to see him now, begging for the touch of his lover, begging for him to touch and grasp at the skin concealed away from him, begging to love and appreciate how stunning you appeared in the clothing, they wouldn't believe it.

His breathing hitched, gulping as he struggled to remained composed. "Goddamn this outfit you got is gonna be the death of me sweetcheeks~"

🌹After his first greeting with the idea and concept of you wearing lingerie, he was in love with it. He loved to see you beautiful skin tightly clenched to the piece of clothing. His eyes being memorized how how your skin would pudge over clothing with how tight it was to your body, especially in your hip to thigh regions. He loved the way your body was framed from down below, wanting nothing more but to grasp and grope that certain area of yours

🌹Whenever he would go on his raids and pillaging of towns, he would sneakily steal sets and all different kinds of pairs of lingerie he could find. He put them in a special case of beg to know which ones he would give to his 'freaks' and which ones he would give to his 'freakshow~' He would also purposely steal the ones he knows you would enjoy and feel the most comfortable wearing. Yes he was a cruel man that destroyed many towns, but he had deep care and love for what his beloved would wear in bed alright?

🌹He will have you perform little catwalks for him in your bedroom, putting on a little show for you two to witness as you would try on each pair of lingerie he stole for you, both of you critiquing each one. Buggy more so as in a sense of which ones would be the most easiest to rip off of you and fuck you, and which ones he wanted you to wear longer as you rode him

🌹He has so many favorites he loves to see you in its hard to pick. But if he had to choose, his favorite set of lingerie that he loved to see doused over you figure is babydolls with suspender belts, while yes, did conceal your body away in a flowly form, was still see through so he could see your bare skin. Watching you twirl around in the short dress of a lingerie, watching it flow in the wind, lifting up just enough for your hips and ass to be exposed to him brought an immense sense of joy to him you wouldn't believe, as well as how tight the belts clenched to your thighs and legs, he loved it all

Mihawk

🌹Mihawk, as well as Buggy, never expected or really saw himself to be in a relationship. With his line of work, he would much rather prefer having quick stands or dated than committing. Yet, here he was with you, and behind the 'act' he would put on -as you would call it- he truly loved you with everything his heart could give

🌹Sometimes it was difficult to truly know what his expression would be sometimes, most of the time he was serious or had somewhat of a nonchalant look to him

🌹but the moment you appeared with your body graced with the fabric and figure of a lingerie set into your bedroom together, his eyes were all on you

🌹At first, you couldn't tell what his expression exactly was, his face seamlessly being unaffected by it, yet his eyes told a different story. The golden orbs of his siren eyes were swirling in a bit of lust and hunger. A ravenish feeling of wanting to tear the article of clothing off your body and fuck you senselessly

-Mihawk's golden eyes stared as you walked into the bedroom, a piece of lewd fabric covering your once exposed skin off from him. A visible emotion of curiosity emitted from your aura, worried about what his reaction would be at your new article of clothing, seeing as he has said nothing or moved from his spot since you walked in, only staring.

As the moment between you two fell into a thick pit of silence in the air, you could see the look in Mihawk's eyes become more... Hungry. His eyes glaring deep into you, you could feel the emotion he was giving you, feeling as if his eyes were tearing off each inch of stitched fabric off of your body, seeing you fully exposed to him.

But, another side of him loved the way your body wore the lingerie, seeing as it clenched onto your body nicely for him to witness for his eyes only. He sat back against his seat in the corner of the room, near his desk, his finger tips were collapsed together in his lap before he raised one hand up, gesturing with one finger for you to come over to him. Now.

When you strutted over, noticing how Mihawk's eyes were glued to the way your hips swayed in the outfit. He made you stop right before him. Your eyes watched as he moved his weight in the chair, seeing the formation of a bulge in his trousers. He made no noise, however, keeping a contained composure as he ordered you to turn around for him with just a twirl of his finger.

You did so, slowly twirling around, showing off the lingerie in its full glory right in front of you. You stopped back into place as you started before, waiting for Mihawk to speak to you. Instead, he didn't say anything, his golden orbs looked you up and down slowly again. You feel back into another pit of silence until-

"Marvelous~" He spoke, underneath his breath but loud enough for you to hear.

He sat up from his chair, standing in front of you. His colossal hands trailing down the sides of your body, feeling the fabric and what skin was left exposed before he griped your one leg and moved it upwards against his hip/waist, his hand underneath your thigh gripping it tightly.

"Absolutely marvelous, my darling~"

🌹Mihawk is a classy, yet naughty man, underneath all the serious attitude he had put on for his work and life style. He adored the way your body would wear the lewd pieces of clothing, loving every second the way your body moved across the room just for him to watch and admire

🌹Mihawk was and still is a mysterious man, whenever he would be away on 'trips' or so you call them for the vice admiral, you would awaken to a box or two with special engravings with your name and patterns on them. When you opened them up, your eyes would be greeted with the sight of different sets and pairs of lingerie. You felt the heat and intensity rise from your neck to your cheeks once you realized these weren't just any ordinary lingerie either, they were quiet expensive

🌹He loved how much the lingerie would make your figure be more prominent, showing all your perfections cause in his mind you had no imperfections, everyone's body had their own flaws, but no matter what you were beautiful just the way you were. He wanted to see all your flaws, and seeing them in such a sinful piece of clothing sent excitement down to his groins. He would have you show off the new set of lingerie in all angels, front, back etc, by making you sit on his thighs/lap and show him yourself~

🌹Unlike Buggy, Mihawk actually does have a favorite. But His favorite article of lingerie of you to wear is basque/corset ones with the thin belts attached to the hip down to mid thigh drew him nuts. He was memorized with the way it constricted your body, along with the beautiful fabric markings it had along the sheer sides of it. He admire the conceal mystery, how some of your body was exposed through the shear fabric while the other half wasn't. Only gives him more of a reason to take it off of you and rail you, well, depends on the night, sometimes he would fuck you with it on

1K notes · View notes

evans-heaven · 2 years

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Feelings; Joseph Quinn

Part 2 of Touch!!! I cannot thank y’all enough for the response on that fic. I never used to get that many notes on my writing in the past, so to have it happen is just the best. Anyway, you and Joe confess your obvious feelings for one another in this one, but not before a little self indulgence on my part lmao. Prepare for a repost if this doesn’t show up in his tags like last time bc tumblr is a mess.

Read Touch here

More moments here

Read Scene here

Pairing: Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, pining, FLUFF, touching (a lot, seriously,) reader is an overthinker but that’s okay, subpar written confession because I’m burnt out y’all, unedited for now

WC: 2.5k

Ever since the D&D game video dropped, Stranger Things’ corner of the internet remained a complete and utter mess. It graduated from the YouTube comments to damn near everywhere else. Wherever you turned on any social media app, there was a TikTok edit, a Twitter thread, a YouTube compilation, or a link to a Cosmo article, all about your moments with Joseph, which happened on camera. Things were already pretty hectic with the events and ships happening within the show, but when speculation grew of a romance happening outside of the show, well, the public took it and ran with it.

Things between you and Joseph stayed relatively the same, platonically attached. It was as though millions of people weren’t talking about how ‘obviously into each other’ you two were, granted he even knew about that. Nothing changed for you personally, either. It wasn’t like you were unaware of your growing feelings for Joseph before people started noticing. Your racing heart and unstoppable smile whenever he laid a gentle hand on you, or was simply just around you, was enough of a giveaway to yourself.

One thing was for certain though, you weren’t going to say anything. You felt like you had done a pretty decent job keeping your feelings masked. You had a good, comfortable thing with Joseph going. You felt secure around him-content. Nothing should have to ruin that. Keeping quiet and convincing yourself he didn’t feel the way you did was the best option. Plus, dating co-stars was a big, fat ‘no’ in Hollywood. A somewhat outdated rule, sure, but you intended to adhere to it.

No matter how hard it was starting to become.

And you were reminded of just how hard it would be, by your current situation.

The two of you laid in your room in your Los Angeles apartment, Top Gun playing on the television across from your bed. Joseph was propped up against the quilted headboard, his arm securely around your body as your head laid on his chest. 10 minutes prior, he noticed you were nodding off and opened his arms in a wordless invitation-like always.

“You’re not mad this is putting me to sleep?” you had asked, halfway smirking. You burrowed your head into his plaid shirt, the smell of his cologne flooding your nose.

“Why would it?,” he asked, rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

“Well, it was my idea to watch this movie,” you said. He had been begging you to go see Top Gun: Maverick with him since it came out, and you agreed, though you wanted to watch the original first. So, you made a night out of it, and about two hours prior, he showed up to your door with kettle corn and sour skittles, and you supplied the wine and pizza.

He was particularly excited about the latter. Even if it had been a few years since he had to give up pizza to lose weight for Eddie, he still felt like he had to make up for all the lost pie. He immediately dug in, and you remembered swiping away some sauce from the side of his mouth with your thumb, which he had swiftly licked clean for you.

That, you blamed on the wine.

“True,” he admitted, fingers crawling down to your rib cage, making you shiver a bit. “But I’m not going pass up on the opportunity to hold you,”

You couldn’t reply when he had said that, you just remained completely still and quiet. Though, the tingling in your cheeks at his words indicated that you were not as unbothered as you wanted to seem.

It wasn’t a secret that the two of you loved each other’s embrace, though neither of you had ever said it outloud, either, at least to one another. The only time you could remember was one time on set when, during a break, you had your arms wrapped around Joseph’s shoulders while he sat in a director’s chair, his fingers laced with yours as you spoke. Gaten jokingly made a comment about your constant attachment to each other, and Joseph had simply said, “I rather enjoy that constant attachment.”

A photo of the two of you in that position was posted on the Stranger Things instagram story, along with various other BTS photos. It was only the back of you, but, like any other relationship speculation, it was all anyone needed to turn an inch into a mile. God forbid two friends hold each other in a way that is actually very platonic, thank you very much.

Joseph’s hand dragged down further, meeting your hip, dangerously close to your backside, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“You fall asleep on me, love?” he asked, and you quickly recovered from his previous words, his actions, and his pet name for you, and shook your head lightly.

“No, I wanna at least wait for the movie to….,” you trailed off, looking up at the screen to see the end credits rolling. “...end,” you deadpanned. You didn’t realize that much time had passed. “So much for that,” you shrugged.

Joseph chuckled as you stretched across him to grab the remote, and switched the TV off. You got up and began gathering the dirty dishes-the plates, wine glasses and the popcorn bowl. You made your way to the kitchen and heard his footsteps coming after you.

You began loading the dishwasher when he spoke. “Did you enjoy it, at least?” he asked.

“I enjoyed seeing a young Tom Cruise,” you laughed, and it was true. That was the only thought you remembered having, that 23 year old Tom was hot. Deuxmoi asshole allegations be damned.

“Fair enough,” he said, and you heard the teasing edge in his voice. “I’d love to stay and have a one-sided conversation about the movie, but I should get going, I have a meeting in the morning,” he said. You turned around and saw he leant against the counter, arms crossed.

You smiled, ignoring his little dig at you, knowing it wasn’t serious. “Ooh, is that face gonna grace the TV screen again soon?” you teased. You were a little disappointed, though, almost wishing you had fallen asleep. He always stayed over when you did, mostly because he’d doze off shortly after you.

He chuckled and shook his head, stepping forward, arms opening. “Maybeeee,” he drew out his answer as you happily walked into his embrace, arms locking around his torso. One of his arms wrapped around your body, the other held the back of your head, pressing your face into his collarbone.

It didn’t matter how many times you had been in his arms, the goodbye hugs always made your nerves explode the most. The two of you always embraced like the other was going on a month long trip to a place with no wifi, cell or postal service.

The two of you loosened the embrace after what felt like forever, but your arms hung around each other still. “You know I really would stay if I could,” he said, taking your chin in his grip.

“I know,” you nodded. “But, you have casting directors to wow in the morning,” you smiled.

“Let’s hope I do,” he replied, grinning. “Have a good night, babes,” he muttered, staring down at you intensely.

“You too,” you said back just as softly, butterflies flittering in your stomach.

When you thought he’d turn away and leave, his hold on your chin remained, his hanging mouth open as though there was more he wanted to say. The words, however, seemed to die on his tongue. His large brown eyes examined your face, quivering as they did.

“You good, Joe?” you asked, tilting your head.

He hesitated, literally freezing up for a second, before he snapped out of…whatever it was, and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m alright. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he mumbled out quickly. He released you entirely and speed walked towards the door, sliding out quickly as you looked at him in confusion. The door closed behind him, quiet harshly.

“Okay, then,” you said to yourself as you stood there, staring at the brown wooden surface.

Did he just shut your own door in your face?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn’t mulled over Joseph’s odd little moment before he left for too long. It was after 1 AM and you were too tired to overthink about that man. You hopped in the bath for a quick shower, changed into some lacey pajamas and crawled back into bed.

You were making yourself comfortable when the sound of rapid knocking on your front door made you jolt up. Before you could wonder who the hell was showing up at your door in the middle of the night, the knocks became more insistent. You threw the comforter off your body and got out of bed, making your way towards the door, turning the living room light on. The rapid fists landing against the door made it vibrate, and you knew you weren’t the only one it woke up. You expected a complaint from the Karen next door in the morning.

You unlocked the door, surprise replacing your annoyance as you saw it was Joseph, looking frantic, leaning against the door frame, supported by his forearm.

“Joe? Did you forget so-” you began, but he cut you off.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, looking into your eyes. His own held a look of desperation within them.

“Okay….,” you said, stepping out of the way so he could enter. He walked in slowly, hands rubbing nervously at his jeans. You heard him let out a couple of heavy breaths.

“Wanna sit down, have some water?” you offered. It had been a while since he left at first, and from the looks of it, he obviously ran back here to tell you whatever it is he had to tell you.

“No, no, I just…have to get this out,” he turned to face you, visibly hyping himself up, and any tiredness you had began to fizzle out, because this was obviously eating at him. Your brain began to swarm with the possibilities of what he could be wanting to tell you, trying and failing to ignore the negative, outrageous shit that your anxious mind conjured up. For some reason you began to think he was going to tell you to fuck off of and that your little relationship was stifling and burdensome.

Fuck you, anxiety.

He put you out of your misery, somewhat, when he started talking, the words tumbling out rapidly. “Okay, so, I’ve been trying to come up with an entire plan on how I would do this, what I would say, when I would say it. I’ve felt this way for three years now and it’s killing me to keep it to myself any longer-”

You furrowed your brows, and held up a hand to stop him. “Joe, slow down-”

“-and now, here I am trying to spill my guts to you in the middle of the night after running back here, looking like a proper idiot, and you’re probably wondering ‘what the fuck is wrong with him’-”

“Joe, can you-”

“-and I’m wondering if this was a mistake, should I not have listened to those comments on YouTube I spent hours reading, talking about the way you look at me, maybe it give me wasted hope, am I about to ruin everything between us because you won’t feel the same way I do,”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t try to stop him again, because you physically felt frozen.

He breathed in, his chest puffing out. “But I just need,” he stressed, “To let you know this. It’s become physically painful to be around you and hold it in now,”

A beat or two of silence passed as the two of you just looked at each other, you with anticipation, him with determination.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finished breathily.

And just like that, a moment you could only dream of in recent years, was finally happening. Your eyes were still wide, but a smile pulled at your lips, your gaze unwavering.

“From that first table read, I loved how easily we clicked, even if you seemed so shy at first, but I love how vivacious you became. I love how close we got, and how that closeness just increased by thousands,” he uttered, he took a step towards you, but he paused again.

You began walking toward him, face relaxing. He continued.

“I love how much we make each other laugh even when whatever it was, wasn’t that funny. I love movie nights with you, even though you never stay awake long enough for them. I love how I feel like I can tell you anything, even when I get scared and ramble way too much, like I did just now,” he paused and chuckled as you stopped dead in front of him, a good inch between you. You looked up at him, lips folded in, eyes searching his face, waiting for him to finish.

He laid a large palm on your cheek, thumb resting at the corner of your mouth. “I love your beautiful fucking face, and this goddamn smile,”

He dropped his hand and took yours with it, lacing your fingers together and looked at the entanglement for a second. He squeezed your hand, fingers pressing into the back of it, almost like he wanted to ground himself and make sure this was actually happening.

“I love how it feels when we touch each other, and I don’t know if you’ve felt it too, but its literally the best fucking feeling in the world to me,” he spoke.

Oh, you felt it too, alright.

“And it's what told me the most, that I was absolutely, undoubtedly, 100%, in love with you,” by the tone of his voice and finality within it, you knew he was done.

You realized you had become numb to any nerves you thought you would feel during a moment like this. You thought your heart would beat so fast your body would tremble, and you would’ve choked on your own words so badly it would hurt. Somehow, hearing his confession gave you the assurance you needed in yourself, and you didn’t doubt him for a second. Your overthinking ceased in its entirety. You nearly regretted driving yourself crazy trying to suppress your feelings. He was here, in front of you, telling you how you felt, echoing every word you ever wanted to say to him.

Your sudden boost of confidence led you to take charge of the next move. You undid your hand from his, and draped your arms around his neck.

“You done?” you asked, beginning to lean in slowly.

His hands gripped at your waist, tugging you closer, almost desperately. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“You sure?” you asked, lips so close to his that a soft breeze could bring them together.

“Yeah,” he practically whined.

“Good,” your voice came out barely audible.

And without another word, you pressed your lips to his own, pouring in every inkling that you could, that you felt the same way about him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry for leaving y’all hanging there at the end, but I wanted to leave the rest of the night open for interpretation😙 I am also, like I said in the warnings, burnt out 😅 so this will most likely be last fic for a while, at least until volume 2 comes out. But thank you Eddie and Joseph for reminding me how much I love writing. I’ve missed this shit so much lol.

Hope you all enjoyed💕

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn

3K notes · View notes

illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

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yellow | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 2.4k words request: yes, by anons: "hiii! can i please get a mick imagine based on my love won’t let you down by little mix? thank you so so much!" & "could I please request a fic with mick, where the reader has an anxiety attack that doesn’t look like a panic attack from the outside but mick knows and comforts them? im in much need for a comfort fic rn" & "heyyyy love reading your stories, they make my week!! please could you write more mick and charles. also do you think you could base some off songs (i.e. take my hand by 5sos or even sadder ones like yellow by coldplay) please keep writing!!!" & by @astervrs: "hi!! i love your writing style and your fanfics so much, and i get really excited whenever you post something new <3 could you please write a mick fanfic with the angst prompt 6. "you're lying to me again. why can't you just tell me truth for once?" and fluff prompt 31. "i'm never going to leave you. i promise" where basically y/n feels really insecure about her own image and relationship due to social media comments and keeps it to herself and when mick asks she just says she's fine until it's visible that something troubles her." warnings: this one's pretty sad. please read the reqs above bc it's pretty much everything they described. panic attack, blood, body image, i tried to keep it vague, but still don't read this if you think this might upset you. a/n: it's sad hours ladies and gentlebitches.

my masterlist

mick used to say she was his yellow. the color yellow is what most people associate with happiness, with joy and bliss.

she found it hard to believe, sometimes, how he could think about her in that way. in her mind, she was someone who needed a yellow, she never thought of herself as someone who could bring that into someone else’s life. but he was always there to remind her.

the night she felt like the sadness would never go away, when she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders, he grabbed her hand, leading her out of their shared apartment.

they were going to a friend’s party, one of mick’s friend was getting married and the couple was throwing a small get-together with close friends. mick walked into the bedroom, where she was getting ready.

“whoa,” he whispered, eyes going wide as he stopped in his tracks.

“what?” she turned around, furrowing her eyebrows as she watched his expression, “what happened?”

“you look amazing,” he chuckled as he walked to her, one of his signature smiles on his lips, showing his rows of pearly white teeth. “i think we better stay here, you’ll make the bride jealous,” he placed his hands on her waist, squeezing playfully as he placed his forehead against hers.

“stop,” she had a small, shy smile on her face, looking up at him through her long lashes.

“it’s true,” he pecked her lips, “you’re the most gorgeous thing i’ve ever laid my eyes on,” one of his hands went up to cup her cheek, he felt her skin warming under his touch. “i don’t know how i got so lucky,”

“i’m the lucky one, mick. you’re the best person i’ve ever gotten the pleasure to know. i still don’t know why you’re with me,” she looked down, but he lifted her head up.

“because you’re everything i could ever ask for and so much more. i love you more than anything,”

he didn’t know it yet, but his words meant the world to her. she’d been having a tough time lately, but his presence was already making things much better.

as they drove to their friend’s house, he kept his hand on her thigh, she’d wanted to drive them there, so he sat on the passenger seat, picking the music and giving his best performance, singing out of tune in hopes of making her smile. as a slow song came on, they both stayed quiet, she was focused on the road as mick leaned back against the headrest, his eyes on her. she was the most marvelous woman he��d ever met. as they were reaching a red light, she looked at him, having felt his stare for the past few minutes.

“what?” she asked, smiling.

“you’re perfect,” he replied, eyes still focused on her. she turned her head, a shy look on her face. “stay like that,” he said, taking out his phone and opening the camera app.

“no, mick-”

“please, just one,” he pleaded, sticking his bottom lip out and blinking rapidly. she chuckled, shaking her head.

“fine,” she gave in. mick turned on the light inside the car, making sure the streetlight was still in red, before snapping a few pictures of her. “my beautiful girl,” he muttered under his breath, “i love you,” he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her cheek. as the light changed from red to green, he turned off the light and leaned back.

about thirty minutes later, when they were waiting for another couple to arrive so they could all have dinner, mick got a call from his mother. he excused himself as he stepped outside. he talked to her for a bit, catching up on everything since they last spoke, his mother asked about (y/n), and an instant smile made its way onto his face. it was so evident that he was completely in love, happier than ever.

“i’m so happy you have each other,” she told him, “you complement and need each other.”

as they hung up, mick looked at his new lockscreen photo, the one he’d just taken in the car. he smiled, so hard his cheeks hurt. she was so beautiful, everything he could ever want. he wanted to show her off to anyone he came across.

and show her off he did. he opened instagram, uploading the picture to his timeline, ‘my everything’, he captioned it. he returned inside, sitting next to her and sliding his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. she snuggled against his neck, having missed him the few minutes he was gone.

hours later, when they’d all eaten and were catching up, she excused herself and grabbed her phone, going to the bathroom. she remembered she had to send a work e-mail and needed some peace and quiet to think about how to redact it. she didn’t expect to see hundreds of notifications from her social media apps. she took a deep breath as she opened instagram. the next few minutes were hazy, blurry.

at first, her heart had skipped a beat when she saw the photo mick took of her. then, she started reading sweet messages from his fans, saying how happy they were for them. then, she read the bad comments. she always wondered what gave people the sense of entitlement when it came to sharing their thoughts about other people’s bodies, appearances, lives. it was unbelievable how things could change in just one second. she’d learned the bad way that it wasn’t good for her to read comments, and even though there was a mean one for every five nice ones, her mind always seemed to focus on the bad ones.

she wasn’t mad at mick, it wasn’t his fault. she just had to suck it up and act as if nothing had happened.

so, she did. or at least tried to.

she sat down next to mick, and he immediately knew something was wrong. he held her closer to him, pressed more kisses to her face and whispered sweet words in her ear. as she started to come back to herself, he stood up and walked to the kitchen to get her some water.

“oh, you two are so cute,” one of their friends said, “did you see the picture he posted?”

they all gathered around that person’s phone, and even though she knew that their comments were positive, that they only meant the best for her, she couldn’t help but tense a little. mick noticed.

“(y/n), you look great here,”

“yes, the color really suits you,”

“look at your smile,”

she felt bad for feeling that way, for being uncomfortable when she was receiving compliments. she gave them a quick, tight-lipped smile as she looked down to the floor. her fingers were playing with the hem of the dress she wore, and as her heart sped up inside her chest, so did her breathing.

calm down. calm down. don’t overreact. stop.

her ears started buzzing, and she started picking at her nails, where the nail and skin met, until she drew blood. as mick returned, he immediately knew something was wrong, mick’s eyes saw her movements, and he grabbed her hand in his as he sat down, handing her the cold glass of water.

“drink, we can leave now, okay?” he whispered, she didn’t reply, only gave him a grateful glance. she gulped down the water, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of her. immediately after, mick stood up, dragging her up with him. “thank you for tonight, but we have to leave now, we’ll see you all later,” mick said, lifting his hand and giving them a wave as he started walking. (y/n) did the same, a small wave as she followed mick.

once they were outside, she let out a deep breath, the cold air gave her goosebumps, but she needed the chilly air right then.

“are you okay? what happened?” he asked, she shook her head, giving him a small smile.

“nothing, i just got a headache, i’m fine.” she answered.

“are you sure, i-”

“yes, i’m fine. can you drive home? i- i don’t feel too good,” she handed him the car keys. mick took the opportunity to hold her hand and pull her close.

“baby, talk to me. it’s me.” he asked again, but she kept the same look on her face.

“i told you, i’m fine.” she didn’t want to worry him with her issues, it was better to keep it that way.

the drive home was tense, mick knew there was something wrong, but at the same time, he didn’t want to pressure her if she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. as they got home, she hopped in the shower, ridding herself of the blue dress she was wearing and letting the water wash away the makeup she’d put on earlier that night. meanwhile, mick sat on their bed, waiting for her to step out so they could talk. as she was in the shower, she tried her hardest to think about something other than the comments she’d read minutes ago. it was unbelievable how words from a stranger could impact her in such a hard way. as she stepped out and walked into the bedroom, mick noticed her red, puffy eyes.

“(y/n)...”

“i’m okay,” she said. she thought that if she kept repeating the words over and over, eventually, they’d come true.

“(y/n), i can see that’s not true. you’re lying to me, again. please, just tell me the truth, what happened?” he tried his hardest to make his words come out soft, gentle, as he didn’t want her to retrieve even more, but he was feeling desperate, he wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how.

she started playing with her nails again, her skin getting goosebumps. her heart broke as she saw mick’s worried face. she sighed, walking to her nightstand and grabbing her phone. the comments were the first thing she saw, since she’d just locked her phone, not bothering to close the app back when she was in the bathroom at their friends’ place. she walked to mick, handing him the phone. he cursed under his breath, standing up and wrapping his arms around her.

“you know none of that is true. you know you’re beautiful, and strong, so kind and understanding. you’re perfect inside and out,” he said, she had her head tilted down, avoiding his gaze. he didn’t want to pressure her, so he kept talking without directing her eyes to his. “you’re quite possible the best person i know.” he continued, but he could tell that the loud thoughts were still rushing through her head. he sighed, “put on something warm, we’re going on a walk.”

they walked in silence, until they reached a bridge that connected both sides of the city, overlooking the river that divided it in two. it was cold, she could see her breath coming out in a cloud of smoke as she exhaled. they stopped right in the middle of the bridge, the night sky reflecting on the water below.

“look at the stars,” he said, walking behind her. he wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her back to him. he could still feel her stiff back. he leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder, “they’re shining just for you,” he said softly.

“that’s not true,” she responded.

“it’s true, look how they shine,” he pointed to the water, that distorted the shape and shimmer of the night lights, “the way you see the stars is not the same way i do. they shine and sparkle and glimmer just the right way you need them to." he moved his head, pressing his lips against her neck. "how bright are they shining right now?" he asked her. she took a moment to reply, eyes traveling from the sky to the water below.

"they're really bright. they're like little lights," she whispered, and mick kissed her cheek. she closed her eyes as she smiled, leaning into his touch.

"my mom used to tell me that the more light you need, the brighter they are," he felt as her breath hitched, he turned her around slowly, her back against the stone railing. his fingers wrapped around her entire back, pressing her front against his, being as close as they could be. “that you can ask the stars for their light, and once you take their light, you can turn it into something beautiful.”

“so, essentially, i’m killing a star?”

“no, they stay with you, for the rest of your days, you carry those little stars with you, in your skin, your bones, and everything you do. you become a yellow,” he said, her heart was pounding in her chest as he never broke eye contact, “you are my yellow,” he finished, a small smile on his lips as he saw her eyes tearing up. “i know you sometimes feel like… your thoughts get loud, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it, but what i can do is be there for you. it doesn’t matter what you’re going through, i’ll be there with you. i can sit with you and talk if you need someone to hear you out. i’ll put on a show and sing your favorite song if you need a distraction. my love for you has no limits, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you. even if you can’t see an escape, a light at the end of the tunnel, my love will always be there. my love will not let you down. i can be your yellow, just like you are mine.”

“i don’t deserve you,” she mumbled, there were tears falling down her face, tears that he softly wiped away with his thumbs.

“i am never going to leave you, i promise. i will be there for you, to hold your hand, or hug you, kiss you or just sit down next to you in silence. we’re a team, okay? i will try my best to lift you up whenever you need it. i promise.”

“thank you,” she said, throwing his arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. “i love you, so, so much,” her voice came out muffled, but she refused to lean back.

“i love you, too, my yellow.”

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duckiemimi · 8 months

Note

Hi Mimi hoping you’re doing good If you don’t mind me asking do you have any headcanons personal or not on gojo and geto or any characters in general?

AAA what a lovely question! thank u for asking me! though i will go out to say, i think a lot of my headcanons have interspersed into some of my analyses (and fics!) 😭 i can’t help it—they’re so dear to me, sometimes i forget where i start and where they end :’) i try my best to separate, though! some of my headcanons are serious, some are plausible, and some just make me laugh. i’ll make this into a little list then:

⟡ geto and gojo did NOT get along when they first met. it was during their first class—yaga had just asked a question about what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer. geto, the then budding honor student, raised his hand and voiced his thoughts (something righteous, something justice-driven). gojo, who was silent and aloof the whole class, couldn’t help but comment. they fought in the classroom an hour into their first day. thank god the gojo clan has money because they obliterated half the building.

(interestingly enough, that show of power was taken into consideration when they got promoted to special grades a month later!)

⟡ shoko comes from a jujutsu clan. it’s not a prestigious one like the big three, but they’re still very respected, akin to the inumaki clan. their innate familial CT is RCT—it’s why shoko couldn’t explain it well to gojo that one time; it was just muscle memory to her, innate! the loneliness took some time to learn, though.

⟡ utahime and gakuganji are related and come from one clan. they specialize in ritualistic, supporting CTs (like in the manga!). utahime went to school in tokyo, but moved back to kyoto because her family lives there and because gakuganji was the principal in that branch. (nepo baby utahime? then again, that could be said for a lot of characters here.) mei mei is her upperclassman by three years.

⟡ when gojo was younger, his retainers (along with multiple bodyguards, hidden and in plain sight) would take him out to walk around the city. it’s why he doesn’t mind traveling far for his missions because while they pile up, he enjoys the time he spends exploring different places.

(it’s also why we saw him roaming the city alone in that one panel. maybe he was ten or twelve there? he’d sneak out during his homeschool lessons when it got boring. “tell me something i don’t know.”—a pre-pubescent gojo, probably.)

⟡ during these walks he used to go on as a child, his retainers would try to prevent him from lingering too long at one place because people talk. the people in town were all afraid and in awe of him; resentful, curious, scared. he looked different, he felt different, and every time he glanced in their direction, it would unnerve them to no end. a young gojo didn’t quite understand why at first. sometimes, they’d whisper the occasional cruel comment amongst themselves. gojo’s eyes are great, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hear.

whenever they’d reach the end of their walks, back at the gojo estate, his retainers would always crouch down and cup his face, darting their eyes around, wary that a clan member might see (even worse—his parents). they’d tell him that everything those people said were lies and weren’t true at all. they’d tell him that he’s a good child. it’s a core memory for gojo.

⟡ geto was in the judo club in middle school. it made him feel a little less lonely at home and it was an outlet for all his frustrations, for all the things he couldn’t say. he was more himself when he moved. then in jujutsu high, he took all the martial arts lessons very seriously because now he had reason to fight and train so hard; a purpose; a meaning. even ten years after defecting, his form and technique was still impeccably perfect.

⟡ geto was a social smoker, meanwhile shoko is a chronic one.

⟡ geto stopped smoking after he took in mimiko and nanako.

⟡ despite his busy, busy schedule, a freshly graduated gojo always made time to see how megumi and tsumiki were doing. he’d help them with their homework (tsumiki was always receptive; it took megumi some time to accept homework help), he’d shower them in souvenir sweets, and he’d walk megumi’s dogs with him. he tried his best! he still does!

⟡ contrary to popular opinion, gojo does sleep. or at least, he tries. it doesn’t really count as sleep if it’s all dream, though.

⟡ in the early days, geto tried to get mimiko and nanako to call him anything but master. after a year of them calling him that, it just stuck, and in geto’s head at the time, it fit his public image, so he just stopped trying.

⟡ mimiko and nanako enrolled in non-sorcerer schools. education is important, geto told them, but the sanitization they had to go through at home, after school, was tedious. geto would always ask them what they learned in class, making sure they weren’t empathizing with the non-sorcerers, reminding them that facts are facts and there is no meaning to them. sometimes, while mimiko and nanako wait for a cult-member to pick them up after school, they’d watch their classmates hug their parents at the gate. sometimes, they’d think of calling him papa.

⟡ geto had a crush on gojo in high school, halfway through their first year. gojo never thought about that (romance, relationships, and such) till his third year. they never acted on anything during the two years in between when they were constantly together.

⟡ whenever geto and gojo would meet during those ten years, it would always be out of gojo’s request, though he’d deny it if you asked. geto would always try to stay away (he’s burned the bridge, goddammit, he can’t keep risking the distance), but then he’d take one look at gojo and it would be hard to. he’d always regret it after.

⟡ the first time shoko and utahime drank together, it was a little after shoko’s graduation. drunk and delirious, shoko started talking about how lonely she was, and how frustrated she was because her two best friends are so fucking stupid. utahime helped her home and swore to never tell anybody about it. now they drink together pretty often.

these are the ones at the top of my head! maybe i’ll add on if i remember some more, but thanks again for asking!

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 months

Text

Cross-Check ~ Chapter Nine

Andy Barber x OFC Leighton "Leia" Andrews

Summary:

Andy Barber is having the best year of his life. His game is on point. It’s gets to play with his best friend and his fiancé just... dumped him?!.

Reeling from a sudden change in status, Andy decides it’s time to just focus on hockey. Until his best friend's sister comes out with news that rock the entire organizations world.,

Andy has always carried a torch for the untouchable Leighton but in her hour of need, is now the time to shoot and score or risk getting cross - checked again?

Warnings: Cheating (but not by the MCs); slow burn; friends to lovers eventually; SMUT!; pregnancy; jealousy; handsome goalies, evil exes...

A/N: The tag list is open!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

Previous: Chapter Eight - Nothing But Lies - Andy/Leia

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter Nine - It's Complicated - Jeremy/Leia

Week 18

Jeremy

Being an NHL goalie is a triumph. Thirty-two teams have only two goaltenders on the roster, and I am lucky to have one. Well, when you’re this good, there isn’t any luck involved. It also helps that Linus Ullmark and I have undeniable chemistry in goal.

That being said, I also have a reputation in the public of being this sweet adorable, caring guy. Not that isn’t true or anything but that is my public facade. Don’t get me wrong, I love being with the kids at charity events or even with Linus’s kids. But that’s not the man that people, especially women, see. I’m a bit of a player. I never wanted to be tied down to one woman. I have good looks, enough money and enough charm that, if I wanted to, I could find a new bunny every night.

But there is always one that is the standard. The ultimate goal.

You know, when I decided to fuck Leia Andrews, I didn’t think it would get this complicated. She was a smoke show, a dime. Something that was unattainable. She was a gorgeous, curvy beauty, with long coffee colored hair and amazing green eyes. She was beautiful, both in looks and in personality. She was a business owner and worked for the team. If she was available, only an idiot would let her go. She had been in a relationship for most of the time I knew her.

Until her brother let it slip that she was single.

Fuck yeah, it was my shot. My chance to fuck this girl and be able to say that I fucked Luke Andrews’s sister. My badge of victory.

Her being pregnant was not on my bingo card.

When she told me she was 15 weeks pregnant, i was stunned. She never gave any indication that she was pregnant. I was pissed. I mean, who wants to fuck a girl when she’s pregnant with some other guy’s baby?

But I was supportive. I mean, I can’t be a douchebag in front of the public, what would that do to my image? I have a few sponsorship deals in the air that I need to think about in the bigger picture. Plus, having Leia, showing myself as a family man might not be a bad idea. Or so said my publicist.

I like my life the way it is now. The freedom to be around, fuck around, party whenever I feel like. I didn’t sign up to be a father. At least, not right now. Eventually, maybe, yeah, I’d do the dad thing. But I don’t want to be forced into it.

I’m sitting at the Red Line, a rare night without Leia. She, Stella and Luke’s fiancé Miranda, went out for a girls dinner. I can trust her to stay away from guys, especially Barber. They’re on the outs right now but I have no idea why. Leia just said they had a difference of opinion and until Andy apologizes, she won’t speak to him. Fine by me, really, because the entire locker room besides Andrews knows that Barber is in love with his sister. And I’d rather not have my captain winning the girl right now.

I wave my hand at Mark for another beer, and I look up to see some highlights of the Tampa Bay vs Minnesota. I snorted seeing my old teammate, Craig Bailey, shitting the bed. Man is a tool. He sleeps with Barber’s fiancé and then she dumps him because she wants to stay in Boston. My buddies are all playing pool and wave me over. I lift my beer to let them know I’m finishing it when I feel a body next to me.

A blonde had taken a seat next to me. I subtly check her over. Long blonde hair, great rack and long legs displayed from tight jeans. She gestures for the bartender and orders a whiskey, neat. I smile. “Rough day?”

She looks at me and I note the way she takes me in, and I smirk. It's never hard to trap a butterfly. She finally looks back at my eyes and gives a soft smile. “Sorry.” She blushes and fuck is she gorgeous. “Uh, yeah, rough day.” She tucks back a piece of her hair but some of it misses. I took the opportunity to add some charm. I tuck the last piece behind her ear.

“Wanna talk about it?”

She huffs a quiet laugh. “Not really. I just want to forget about it and him.”

Rebound girls are so easy.

“Sorry to hear that. Let me buy you another.” I waved at Mark, and he nodded, moving to pour two more drinks. He sets them down in front of us and I raise my glass. “To bad days, may they be a distant memory.”

“Cheers to that,” she says. We drink and she giggles. “I’m Charlie,” she offers her hand.

I take it and lift it so I can kiss the back of her hands. Chicks dig shit like that. “Jeremy. It’s nice to meet you.” I take another drink. “So, if you don’t want to talk about your bad day and obviously bad guy, tell me something else about yourself.”

Her eyes brightened at the attention. Fuck, its just too easy sometimes. “I’m a financial adviser. Work at Schwab. Luckily, I live alone downtown and i have a dog name Peaches.” She smiles at me shyly. “What about you Jeremy?”

“Well, I work for the Bruins Hockey Club, so I travel a lot. I also have my own place, no girlfriend, no dog because I don’t have anyone to take care of it. Well, I guess my best friend’s wife could do it while we’re away but I don’t want to leave her with that burden. And I’m drinking because my life took an unexpected turn and I’m contemplating what I’m going to do.” Yes, I lied a bit about the girlfriend thing but did I really?

“Sounds like you’re having a rough day as well.” She gives a little flirty smile.

I’ve got her.

An hour later, Charlie and I were laughing at the bar, a little tipsy, feeling good. She leans into me. “Wanna get out of here? We could go back to my place?”

Who am I to deny a beautiful girl?

“Lead the way, gorgeous.”

I haven’t had sex since I started dating Leia and I was primed and ready to go. I mean, it's not like we were committed to each other, right? I like Leia but a commitment like that is something I’m not sure I can do at this moment. And at this moment, I have what I am looking for: a good fucking time. I took Charlie’s hand and led her out to a cab.

I’m not ready to be father or be responsible for another person just yet. Opening the cab door, Charlie smiles at me before planting a sultry kiss on my lips. A kiss that goes straight to my groin. I moan a little at her body pressed against mine. Fuck, it's going to be a good night. She climbs in and I follow, missing the fans taking pictures.

As I walk out of her apartment later that night, wiping her lipstick from my mouth, smiling at that fact that most of it is actually around my cock, I send a message to Leia.

Jeremy: I hope you had a good night beautiful

I mean, I don’t have to let her go right away. At least, not until I get a taste. Who know? Pregnant pussy could taste sweeter than the one I just had.

Leia

Week 19

I hate fighting with my best friend. Andy has remained in a sour mood when he is out with the team but when he sees me, he tries to talk to me. I just don’t let him. I know I should be the bigger person and hear him out but right now I want to be petty. His words hurt me so much. Doesn’t he understand that I just want to find true love?

I guess he doesn’t know that I had hoped it would be with him. I’ve actively had dreams about him, seeing us together raising my kid, cupping my cheek so I look him in the eye when he tells me he loves me. Even a few naughty ones, thinking of how that beard would feel between my legs. No, i can’t think like that. He ruined that for us with his words.

On the other hand, Jeremy has been a little subdue with me. I know the news of my pregnancy shocked him but he said he would stand by me. We haven’t been seeing each other as much; he says he’s busy with commitments and a road trip. But I miss hm. Luckily, I have a date with him tonight.

Andy was out when Jeremy arrived for our date. I took in his outfit, all black with a hounds tooth pea coat. Delicious. “Hey handsome!”

“Hey beautiful.” He sounded down and my smile fell a little at his tone.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, practice was brutal.” He smiled weakly. I nodded, totally understanding. The Bruins are on a three game skid. Its early in the season, but you want to nip losing streaks in the bud. “But,” he continued, “seeing you is making me feel better. You’re coming on the trip right?”

“Yes.” It will be brutal. Flying at almost five months pregnant is going to suck but this is the job I signed up for.

He kissed my hand. “Don’t worry. The team will take care of you.” He started the car and drove us to a quiet restaurant in downtown. I feel at ease knowing that Jeremy will help me while we are away. I know my brother will check in but the thought that Andy will avoid me hurts more. My mood is meloncoly at the thought and I stay quiet during the drive.

Jeremy made a reservation and we have a quiet booth in the back. We talk about nothing really as we order and Jeremy orders himself a scotch. I frown a little. It’s unusual for him to drink when we are out because he is usually driving but I don’t say anything. He gets up to use the restroom and I check social media for traffic on the post I have put up. Everything is looking good until I see a new article from the Boston Globe sports section.

HOCKEY STAR STEPPING OUT ON NEW GIRLFRIEND?

I click on the article and read.

Goalies don’t usually score but it seems like Jeremy Swayman didn’t get that memo. Swayman, backup goalie for the Bruins has been rumored to be in a relationship with Leighton Andrews, sister to assistant captain Lukas Andrews. Miss Andrews is a bright star in the PR world, being the social media manager for the Bruins as well as her own company, providing services to many businesses and athletes.

The rumors of their relationship started ten weeks ago when they were spotted chatting before a game, looking rather cozy. There are also rumors that Miss Andrews is pregnant, although that has yet to be confirmed.

The puzzling part is the photo taken by @Bruinsfan4life just a few days ago with Swayman leaving the Red Line Bar with an unidentified woman, holding hands. The climbed into a waiting cab and left.

What is going on with Swayman and Andrews? Is it all a farce or is Andrews wallowing in shame that her baby daddy is leaving her? Only time will tell.

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I thought that Jeremy and I were solid, moving forward. I thought that he was ok with the baby. I stare and stare at my phone until I hear someone clear their throat. I look up to see Jeremy is back and looks concerned. “Are you ok?”

I shake my head and then hand him the phone. “Care to explain?”

He looks over the article and sighs. “That was just a friend.” He throws back the rest of his drink and signals for another. I glare at him.

“A friend.” I look at the picture again. It is of Jeremy and this woman. She’s blonde, model like. They both have big smiles as they are wrapped up in each other. “What’s her name?”

Jeremy chokes for a moment on his new drink. “Her name is Charlie. The photo... the photo is just after we hugged. Nothing is going on.”

“Right,” I scoff. I look away from him, trying to keep the tears away. Fucking hormones.

“Right,” he repeats. “Like you’re not screwing around with Barber.” My head snaps back to him. “I know you want him, Leighton.” The way my name twists in his mouth is disturbing. He’s never said it that way and I don’t like it.

“Andy is just a friend. A friend that I’m not even speaking to.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“A friend? Really? That guy has wanted you since the day I joined the team. I’ve seen how you were before with him. All the hugging and kisses to your forehead or cheek. Just a friend right? Bet he’s the father of your baby too.”

“How dare you! I told you the truth about the baby. You said you would be there. I thought we were in a relationship!” I hissed at him. The waiter comes by and drops off our plates. I push the food around.

Andy was right. Jeremy was not the wonderful person I thought he was. Jeremy sighs and my eyes go back to him. “Look, i know we’ve been seeing each other but we never defined what we are.” He shrugged. “I thought it was casual. I mean, you never slept with me so were we really that serious?”

That one hurt. I stare at my plate, wishing I had just listened to Andy and his warming about Swayman. "I guess then maybe, we should just be friends. I mean, why would you want to be with a pregnant chick when you could have all the uncomplicated stuff." I can’t stop the tear from falling. I wipe it away.

“Look, Leia, I just don’t think I want to be a father right now.” He tries to take my hand but I pull away. “I mean, you’re cool and everything but we were never going to the next level. I don’t know if I could sleep with someone who’s having another man’s baby. And now I’m going to be taking a hit because you weren’t honest from the beginning.”

“Oh, so what were you going to just sleep with me and throw me away? Your teammates sister?”

He shrugged. “I like you but I don’t do relationships.”

That was the death blow. I calmly stood up and pulled my coat on. “I’m sorry for ruining your life.” I pulled a couple of bills and threw them on the table. “I guess I’ll see you at work.”

He looks scared at my calm look and tries to backpedal. “Leia...”

“Goodbye Jeremy.”

I walked out of the restaurant and I had no idea where to go. I started to walk toward the park, just needing some fresh air. I hated that I did this to myself. I hated that Andy was right. I was upset with my brother because he must of known Jeremy was like this. But mostly, I was sad because I sacrificed so much for someone who wasn’t worth it. Again. And I was now alone, again. Why can’t I find someone who loves me for me, faults and all? I keep getting all of the jerk. Where is my price charming? I wish the one I have wanted all my life wanted me too but he has made it clear that I am just his best friend. Even so, he’s never let me down

I rubbed my belly, trying to feel some comfort. But I knew there was only one place where I always felt complete. I hailed a cab and gave an address.

The house was dark save for a light in one of the window. I hope they were still awake. I knocked on the door. It took a moment but then the door opened.

“Hi.”

Taglist:

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@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

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@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

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crabonfire · 9 days

Note

Hi! May I request a tssm Eddie Brock x reader pretty plz 💞

TSSM Eddie Brock x Reader <3

character: tssm! Eddie Brock

tags: fluff

note: this is seriously long overdue (sorry anon) but i saw this in my drafts and I HAD to do it because I am hyperfixated SPECIFICALLY on tssm eddie brock.

can be seen as post or pre venom!!! I wrote it ignoring his venom counterpart but I could write venom stuff if yall are interested

also i didn't know if you wanted like...headcannons or a fully fledged fic but I'm gonna do headcannons because at the moment I'm out of ideas for Eddie fics

♡Eddie♡

• He doesn't show extreme PDA, thinks it's a little corny to be so overly intimate with your partner like that in front of people. But he does love holding your hand or having his arm around you when you two are out.

• Makes any attempt to compliment you when he can. It doesn't mean that his compliments have no meaning, no, he means it all.

• Anywhere you want to go, he's willing to take you on his motorcycle.

• He LOVES motorcycle rides with you. Usually its too loud for either of you to talk, but he loves the feeling of your arms around him as you rest your head on his back. The cool air, you, and the road the both of you take. Something about it is real romantic to him. (It's symbolic in a way I guess.)

• Will teach you how to use it if you've never rode one <3

• Loves when you wear his jacket. Oftentimes he'll purposely leave it over at your place to see if you'll wear it. Will tease you when you do, but hates when you take it off.

• He gets super quiet whenever you two are alone together. Usually because he wants you to talk about your day and such, but other times he's preoccupied with other ideas. Sometimes he just wants to sit in silence with you, hugging you from behind or pulling you to his chest and feeling your hair.

• Physical intimacy is a must for him. He won't show it early in the relationship, but he craves your hugs and kisses. Adores whenever you are the one holding him, running your fingers through his hair, he can't get enough.

• He might have a hard time expressing true feelings to you. When he's angry it's obvious, but when it's something about love and trust it's a little difficult for him to convey it into words. He doesn't want to worry you, and if this relationship was serious, he would have a hard time saying "I love you" or even returning that sentiment unless you two had been together for a long time. After being left behind so many times it's difficult to trust.

• But he loves you. And that is enough for him.

♡♡♡

reblogs and comments appreciated :)

I love you tssm eddie brock...one of my fav adaptations...aside from Tom Hardy I love you Tom Hardy...

#tssm #the spectacular spider man #tssm eddie #tssm eddie brock #eddie brock #tssm x reader #tssm eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #fluff #tssm headcannons #eddie brock hcs #hcs #tagging #wow

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kennacore · 2 years

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The Popcorn Incident (a Benatar x Reader smut fic!!)

NOTES: Hey guys!! You seemed to like my Puff smut fic, so here’s a Benatar one😈😈 this is painfully self indulgent and cringe 😭😭 but enjoy anyways LMFAO.

DISCLAIMERS; Reader is AFAB, Benatar is painfully British, He’s also a virgin lol, Breeding kink, Reader is the top.

It was a painfully boring night on the YFM tour bus, which was a rare occurrence. Typically, the others would be doing something insanely chaotic, yet everyone was mellowed out for the time being. None of you were up to much in the slightest, since you had all already practiced together for the day. Meaning that there wasn't much left for the lot of you to do.

You were currently sitting on the sofa beside Axel, mindlessly strumming random chords on your electric guitar. Benatar was in the ‘kitchen’ preparing some tea for himself, while Puff and Deejay were sitting at the table, making small talk. You sure were hoping something would happen soon, because you were losing your mind to boredom.

“Ugh man, I’m so fuckin bored dawg!” Axel complains as he leans against you with an obnoxiously loud yawn. You tense up at the contact with a small blush, accidentally messing up the em chord you were attempting to play previously. “True that, I swear there ain’t nothing to do on this motherfucking bus,” Deejay agrees with a tired sigh. “Yes I must agree, this evening has been quite a bore. I suppose I shall have my tea and head off to bed th—“ Benatar was cut off by Puff, who suddenly stood from the table with a wild grin on his face. Oh great here we go again. That's the look he always gets whenever he has a bad or downright devious idea. You didn't like where this was going in the slightest.

“Guys, let’s play truth or dare!” Puff suggested. Deejay sighs and shakes his head “man what are we, highschoolers?” he mumbles. “Oh c’mon it’ll be fun, don’t be a bunch of pussies!” Puff then sits on the floor and motions for everyone else to come join him. Everyone reluctantly obeys him. “Alright let's get this show on the road! Haha!” Puff grins and slaps his knee. You were a bit nervous to say the least, but who knows; maybe it’ll be fun?

“Hey, y/n! Truth or dare?” Puff questions while pointing directly at you. You jump up, feeling a bit startled. Oh great, of course he had to pick you first. Fun was simply out of the question now. You thought for a second, now this may be the most ‘chicken’ option, but you wanted to play it safe! You knew how wild Puff could be. “Truth,” you were just hoping he wouldn’t ask anything too weird. “How big are those tits baby?” Puff wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. A blush spreads across your cheeks at the question, you should have known he would ask something weird! You now regret even agreeing to play this in the first place. You now nervously gaze down at the bus floor, thinking about what exactly to say.

Benatar could sense you were a bit uncomfortable with the question, so he spoke up for you. “Erm Puff, maybe you shouldn’t ask dear y/n stuff like tha—'' he was attempting to stick up for you, only to be shot down. “Oh c’mon it's just for fun you loser! Plus I bet you're curious too, you perv. I know damn well you’ve probably jacked off to the thought of those fat tits before!” Benatars face flushes at the accusation, his lips part in shock. The brit was speechless as he looked at the floor. Axel laughs obnoxiously while ruffling Benatar's hair. “Haha! You got a little crush or somethin you fuckin dick? I mean, I don’t blame you y/n is one super hot mama, I mean have you seen that ass!? She's so—“ Axel was cut off by Puff. He sure did seem to love cutting people off while they were talking. “Shut up, idiots! Y/n still hasn't answered!” Puff rolls his eyes. Everyone then finally settles down and looks at you expectintally, causing you to get nervous again.

After a few moments of hesitation, you timidly blurt out what your bra size was to everyone. Which earns you some suggestive comments, mainly from Puff, and even some howling from Axel? Benatar was the only one who didn’t say a word. He simply sat with a blush while shaking his head at his band mates reactions. You shrug it off with a blush of your own as you ponder on who you were going to ask. After some thinking, you end up deciding you want to fuck with Axel a little, since he’s been picking on poor Benatar all night. Plus, Benatar was sweet enough to try to stick up for you earlier. So you wanted to stick up for him now.

“Hey Axel, truth or dare?” You question, a devious smirk displayed on your face. Axel is quick to respond “dare obviously! I'm not a coward!” The man gave you a toothy grin. “I dare you to eat a raw egg and you have to swallow it too! No spitting it out.” You giggle evilly, it wasn't a super awful dare but you didnt wanna be too mean. He was still your friend after all. Axel seemed stunned for a moment, but wasn't hesitant to hop up to head over to the fridge for an egg. “Hah! Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to swallow it all, because spitters are quitters man! Wait, that sounded kind of gay. Everyone please ignore me…” Axel rambled on as he stood in front of the lot of you.

The brute then crushes the egg open with his bare hand, before slurping up the raw yolk inside. Axel was true to his word and swallowed it all with a scowl. You and the others chuckled at his goofy expression as he sat back down. “Now Benatar you fuckin wimp, truth or dare?” Axel snickers. Benatar seemed visibly nervous that he was picked. For a moment he was silent as he contemplated, but wanting to seem cool to everyone, he went with dare.

“I dare you to shove your face right between y/n’s tits for a whole minute!” Axel howls with laughter, Puff and Deejay joining in. The brit was quick to get red in the face for the second time that evening. You couldn't help but turn red as well. You surely didn’t see that coming.

Hesitantly, Benatar crawls over to sit in front of you. “Oh heavens, I'm terribly sorry about this. Is this even okay, my love?” He asks before profusely continuing to apologize, despite the fact he hadn't even done anything yet. You laugh and give a shrug. “Well hey I mean, it is only a small dare, so it's okay! It’ll be over before you know it.” You smile sweetly at him.

Benatar lets out a shaky breath before finally leaning down towards your chest. The brit then nudges his soft face between your breasts. You could feel how hot his face was against your skin, it was cute how flustered he was over a silly dare. Teasingly, you wrap your arms around the boy to bring him in closer to you, causing him to gasp and tense up. Seeing Benatar so nervous like this was starting to make you feel some kind of way.

“Havin fun, you dork??” Axel taunts the blonde. Benatar attempts to speak, but his words come out in a muffle since his face is still smothered between your fat tits.

Eventually, a minute passes and the two of you seperate. Benatar is breathing unevenly, his face flustered a dark red shade; even his blonde hair was a bit disheveled. You just adored how he looked right now. It was seriously the cutest thing ever.

The others, especially Axel, were laughing to kill themselves at the his reaction. Which only made the brit more embarrassed. “Oh sod off, you plonkers,” Benatar mumbles as he scoots back to his previous spot.

——

As the night went on, the game of truth or dare ended up being short lived. You all got bored of it. Puff had then suggested another ‘brilliant’ idea to everyone. He recommended they all go to the Bald Beaver, and so that's where the majority of the band went. Except for you and Benatar— the two of you decide to remain on the bus, since Benatar suggested you guys could ‘watch the telly’ together. You guys never went out to the clubs much with the others anyways. Clubs were too much of a hassle for you personally. The amount of men that tried to hit on you in a single night was unreal. You just simply didn’t want to deal with it tonight. Plus, you couldn’t turn down Benatar’s offer, it did sound rather pleasant.

You and Benatar were now curled up on the couch as you opened up Netflix. The first thing you saw was a random American movie both of you had never seen before. You guys weren’t from America, so you were unfamiliar with American titles such as these. You figured to just choose to play that movie instead of spending 30 minutes trying to find another film. As it played on, it didn't seem overly interesting in the slightest; that was until a literal sex scene came on. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Maybe next time you should actually read the description for the movie before playing it.

It wasnt just any sex scene either, it was starting to get rather kinky. At first, the woman on screen had smothered the man’s face right between her bare breasts, simply teasing him. It seemed rather normal as of now. But it wasn’t long before there were blindfolds, whips and all kinds of other things being displayed on the screen. Is this the type of shit Americans liked?

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Benatar shuffling nervously. Unbeknownst to you, the poor man was starting to get a little hot and bothered down south. The start of the scene had reminded him of how earlier that evening you had done the same thing to him. He begins to remember how soft and warm your cleavage was, he wishes he could have stayed between your breasts forever. A tent began to form in his jeans at the thought, Benatar subtly attempted to cover his little problem by placing the popcorn bowl over his lap. He was praying that you wouldn’t notice. He was ashamed for thinking such dirty things about his dear friend. The mixture of his thoughts, and the film playing on the screen in front of him was making him feel lightheaded.

Sure, he’s seen porn before, but surprisingly enough he had never actually had sex. So sitting beside a very beautiful girl, whom he happened to have a slight crush on, while watching this? While he was also having dirty thoughts about said girl? Yeah, he was kind of losing his cool. “You okay, Benatar? You seem a bit nervous honey,” you question the brit. The man in question yelps, whipping his head to look over at you. You notice he’s flustered yet again. “Oh um, I’m… I’m quite alright, darling.” Benatar audibly gulps while looking away. Seeing him like this was driving you crazy. You just had to tease him a little bit more.

“Aw, is someone all flustered over a little sex scene?” You taunt, although admittedly the scene was making you blush too. To be fair, it was some pretty kinky stuff. Benatar was quick to shake his head vigorously to show his disagreement. “No! Not at all…” he lied while beginning to fidget with his pale fingers nervously. You lean in close to him with a large grin “you sure?” Benatar visibly stiffened up, before looking to the floor timidly. Holy shit, did he just whine? How cute.

You decided that the poor brit has had enough teasing for now, so you sit back properly in your original spot on the sofa. Benatar let out a shaky sigh of relief as he shovels some popcorn into his gob. “Hey Benatar, gimme the bowl. You're hogging it all!” You joked playfully as you nudged him with your elbow, a grin on your lips as you placed your hands on the bowl.

Benatar jumped up with a loud gasp, shaking his head aggressively. “No! I mean um, you can't have it because… it's no good, It's gone baltic!” Benatar attempted to persuade you to not take the bowl, he almost seemed in a small panic as he spoke. You quirk an eyebrow at the blonde, feeling confused. “It’s gone… cold? C’mon, I had some just a bit ago and it was still piping hot! Now hand it over to me, you dork.” You tease while taking the bowl from his lap, and that’s when you saw it. There in the front of his black jeans stood a rather large bump.

Your lips part in shock as you stare at his boner, so that’s why he didn’t want to move that bowl. Benatar whimpered out pathetically while avoiding eye contact. “Oh my, I’m terribly sorry darling. I don’t know what happened! I um I just, I started thinking about earlier. The truth is… I quite fancy you, love. I have for quite some time now.” The brit stumbles over his words shyly as he confesses to you.

You were awestruck at his words, you had no clue he returned your feelings. To be truthful, you’ve had a crush on him ever since you joined the band all those years ago. “Oh Benatar, I like you a lot too,” you state with a blush while placing the popcorn bowl aside before putting a gentle hand on his thigh, causing the man to stiffen up. “Now, would you like some help there with your little problem?” You giggled teasingly, the blonde was baffled at your offer. “You… you would help me with it, love? Really?” Benatar questions with an audible gulp, seeming absolutely flabbergasted.

You shut off the tv before turning to face him. Gingerly, you hold Benatar's hands in your own, giving him a soft smile “of course, honey.” As you held his hands, you noticed his hands were shaking, and a tad bit sweaty. You frown a little bit at his nervousness, “are you sure you want me to help you out? You seem so anxious,” you ask with genuine concern. You would never want to make Benatar uncomfortable.

Benatar is fast to nod in response, “yes! I just… um, oh goodness… I’ve never quite done this sort of thing before.” To say you're surprised is an understatement. He was such a total babe magnet! How has no one fucked the ever living hell out of him? Knowing you were going to be his first made more heat pool down south. “Oh Benatar, don’t you fret. I’ll take such good care of you honey…” you whisper while shuffling yourself onto the brits lap. You wrap your arms around his neck before leaning in to kiss his face softly. You wanted to take things slow with him, considering he was new to this.

“Good heavens, you're so lush…” Benatar compliments as your kisses trail down his neck. You can’t help but giggle at his painfully British compliment as you begin to suckle and nip gently at his neck, causing the man’s breath to hitch. While leaving marks on his neck, you decide you grind yourself on the man's lap, causing a high pitched whine to leave his throat. The sound instantly sends a rush of arousal straight through you. You had no clue he could make such cute noises. You desperately needed to hear more.

Leaning up, you connect your lips to the brits plump ones. Benatar makes a startled noise at first, but it doesn’t take long before he melts like butter right into the kiss. The kiss is quick to get more heated. His slender fingers make their way to your face, now softly cupping your cheeks. The sweet gesture made your heart do a flip in your chest. How was he such a sweetheart?

As you pull away, a trail of saliva connects you both. “Benatar, before we continue this, let’s take this to my bed, shall we?” You suggest with a wink while the two of you stand up. You take his hand before leading him to the bed, he trails behind you like a lost puppy. Playfully, you shove him onto the mattress with a gentle push. Benatar propped himself up on his elbows not too long after he was tossed onto your bed, just so he could still have a view of you.

“May I take my top off, pretty please? It’s awfully hot in here…” Benatar suddenly questioned. You nod, deciding to even help him with it. You don’t hesitate to move close to him to help him remove his suit jacket, followed by his dress shirt and tie. Once it's all removed, you toss it all to the floor carelessly before admiring the shirtless brit. The boy blushes once he noticed you gawking at him.

You figured now you should strip a bit as well, it’s only fair after all. Maybe you would tease the man a bit by giving him a little personal ‘strip show’. In a painfully slow manner, you grab a hold of the bottom of your tank top before pulling it off of yourself. You watched him closely as you did, wanting to drink up all his reactions. So far he hadn’t had any major reaction, that was until you reached your hands behind yourself to unclip your bra. His lips part in shock, his face even becoming a darker shade of red. He must have been eager to see your tits, how cute.

As your bra was removed and discarded else where, he couldn’t help but gawk at the sight of your bare chest. “Pardon me for staring, love. You just… oh gosh, you have such beautiful breasts,” Benatar compliments bashfully. He was so awfully polite with his word choice, you found it adorable. You thank him before sliding your pants off.

There was only one more garment remaining on your body now, and that was your panties. You smirk as an idea forms in your mind. “Oh Benatar, come sit at the ledge of the bed for a moment.” Benatar is quick to scramble up and sit at the ledge of the bed in front of you, he was so obedient.

“Take these off for me, please pretty?” You ask while pointing down at your underwear. You could see a bead of sweat drip off the boy's red face, he was adorably flustered. Benatar swallows hard and reaches his shaking hands out towards you, only to place them on your hips softly. Benatar was so gentle with you, he was treating you as if you were a fragile porcelain doll who could shatter at any moment.

Benatar hooks his slender fingers under the sides of your panties, before looking up at you. He was silently asking for permission, despite the fact you’ve already given it to him. You giggle with a nod, letting him know it’s fine to proceed. His kindness practically made your heart leap out of your chest. Finally, he slides your panties down your thighs, letting them drop to the floor beneath you. He can’t help but stare at the spot between your legs. “My gosh…” the Brit mumbles as he admires your glistening pussy, you were already absolutely soaked.

“Does my sweet boy like what he sees?” You taunt as you softly cup his cheek. Benatar nods quickly as he continues to admire it. “Yes love, your body's like an angels. You're so gorgeous…” he speaks softly. You blush at his kind words while dropping down to your knees in front of him. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, I think I should reward you honey,” you say whilst unzipping his pants. Benatar gulps as he watches on nervously, his breath already getting more rapid by the minute.

At last the only thing standing in your way was his boxers. The front of his boxers were already slathered with precum, how adorable. You slip off his boxers with ease, allowing his cock to finally spring free from its containment. It stood tall and proud in all its glory, precum drooling from the head. You gawk at the size, he was packing! You would have never guessed. “Wow…” you whisper as you admire his dick. The brit shuffled around shyly as you stared on. “Is it any good, lovey?” He questions, hoping you were impressed with his size. “Oh yes, your cock is perfect. It's so perfect that I may just have to tit fuck it,” you tease. Benatar’s cock twitches at your words, he must like the way you dirty talked to him.

You grasp a hold of your tits before placing them around Benatar’s hard cock. Benatar lets out a choked moan before gripping the bed sheets at his sides tightly. You’ve hardly done anything yet he's already so excited.

As you begin to move your tits up and down on the brits dick, he's already letting out the most delightful sounds. He attempts to cover his mouth to muffle his noises, but you put a stop to that quickly. Your actions freeze suddenly, causing the boy to whine. “Benatar, uncover your mouth. Please? I want to hear all of those dirty little noises that are going to leave that mouth of yours.” Benatar hesitates but uncovers his mouth, he wouldn’t want to disobey you. “Good boy,” you praise as you continue your previous actions.

“Oh my gosh love, that… oh that feels lovely. Please don’t stop,” he whimpers out. Once again, you abruptly stop tit fucking the man. “Oh? Did you say to stop? Okay then,” you tease. You heard the blonde perfectly well, but you just had to have your fun with him. Benatar is quick to shake his head in disagreement. “No! Oh goodness no… I said to please not stop. This feels like heaven on earth, love. Oh please mistress don’t stop now, pretty please? I’ll be such a good boy, I promise…” he begs pathetically with a noisy whine.

Holy shit. Did he just fucking call you mistress? If you weren't already turned on enough, that title alone made you drip with arousal. “Fuck your so god damn cute,” you compliment before desperately moving your tits up and down on his cock again. You were going to make this boy cum harder than he ever has before, you would make sure of it. As you continue your work, you gaze up at Benatar, admiring the mess you’ve made of him. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every shaky breath that escaped his lungs, his face burned a bright cherry red shade. Sweat droplets fell from his pretty face, and the moans that left his parted lips were downright angelic.

It seemed he was starting to get closer to orgasm. With the way his cock twitched between your boobs and the way his legs trembled, there was no way he wasn’t close. “Does my pretty boy want to cum? Aw, how cute! Go ahead honey, make a mess all over mistresses face.” You quicken your pace as you open your mouth, letting your tongue stick out. You were hoping you could possibly catch a few drops of his cum on your tongue. Your words sent Benatar over the edge with ease. “Ah! oh love, my gosh…” he tosses his head back for a moment with a shaky moan as he coats your face with his cum, his hands tightly gripping onto your bedsheets.

You were shocked with how much he was cumming, he was practically painting your face a whole new color. “Mm, fuck honey. You came so much…” you point out. Benatar gets painfully red at your comment. “Oh dear, I apologise! I um, gosh I didn’t mean to make such a mess, should I help you clean it up? Or—“

You cut him off with a chuckle while shaking your head. “Don’t worry, I got this” you say while beginning to gather the cum from your face, only to lick it off your fingers. Benatar is stunned as he watches “darling, don’t do that now… you're going to get me all hot and bothered again,” Benatar pleads for you to cease your actions. “Oh really? That’s good to know,” you tease as you continue licking your fingers clean. Benatar’s cock throbs with need as he watches in awe.

Once your face and fingers are (somewhat) cleaned off, you stand up whilst giving the blonde a smirk. “Now, be good and lay down on the bed for me,” you beckon for the man to lay. Benatar obeys and sprawls himself across your bed. At a teasingly slow pace, you crawl on top of the brit and gaze down at him.

“Are you ready for the ride of your life, sweetheart?” Benatar nods eagerly while speaking “yes, oh yes please ma’am.” He was so polite, it honestly weirdly turned you on in a sense. Without hesitation, you drop yourself down on Benatar's cock. A loud choked moan leaves the man's mouth as he rests his hands on your hips “oh gosh!” He cries out noisily. You can't help but let a moan of your own out, the way he stretched you out was unreal. It's almost as if your pussy was made for him.

As you slam yourself up and down on his cock, his noises are music to your ears. “Benatar… fuck, you're so cute honey. That’s right, keep moaning for me like that, good fucking boy” you whine out. All the praise made the poor boy's head feel fuzzy. He decided to attempt to return the praise. “You um, goodness miss. You look stunning riding me like that…” he speaks shakily as his grip on your hips gets a bit rougher. You smile at his attempt to compliment you, he was so shy with the way he spoke. You just loved it.

“Benatar, how would you feel if I asked you to cum inside of me?” You question with a heavy pant. Benatar’s cock twitching inside of you and the way his hips bucked upwards was enough of an answer, but you wanted to hear him say how badly he wanted to. “Oh gosh, you would let me? Are you sure? That sounds awfully naughty…”

You nod with a smirk “mm fuck yes, fill me up Benatar. Cum inside of me, breed me deep. Don’t hold back, I want to be your personal cumdump. I want to be your dirty little whore. Let my pussy be your slutty little breeding toy,” you moan. One of the hands that had previously been gripped on your hip had made its way to his mouth. Benatar placed his hand over his mouth in shock at your words. He had no idea you could say such foul things. What he was more shocked about though, was that he was into it, a lot. it sent a new wave of arousal through him.

Benatar whimpers pathetically into his hand as his hips begin bucking upwards into you ever so slightly. He couldn't control himself at this point, you just felt too good. “That's right, good fucking boy. Fuck into your mistress like that. You're going to breed me so well, aren’t you my sweet boy? Oh fuck yes, ah that’s it, just like that.”

That was all it took for Benatar’s breath to hitch as he came with a high pitched whine. His hands grasped tightly onto your love handles desperately once again, as the brits cock twitches and pulses inside of your pussy. He’s filling you to the brim with his cum. The feeling alone easily sent you over the edge with a loud moan. You were cumming hard around his cock, your legs shook from the intensity of your orgasm. “Fuck, oh my god. This feels fucking amazing,” you moan breathlessly as the man fills you with everything he’s got.

“Fuck Benatar, god I love you,” you lean down, giving the blonde a loving kiss. He returned the gesture with 0 hesitation, the way he kissed you was so gentle and sweet. After the kiss, you finally pull yourself off of Benatar's cock. The amount of cum that spilled out of you was downright insane. “Holy shit, you sure do cum a lot, don’t you?” You taunt him with a chuckle. Benatar stares in awe as he watches his cum spill out of you, if he wasn't so exhausted he’s sure it would have made him hard yet again.

“You were so good for me sweetheart, would you like some tea as a reward?” You ask with a soft smile. Benatar returns the smile while giving you a nod “yes please love, I’d really fancy a cup of tea.” You shimmy out of your bed, slipping on your bra and panties before tossing Benatar his boxers with a wink. “You better put those back on just in case anyone comes back later” you giggle. Before leaving the room, you sneakily snatch Benatars dress shirt off of the floor. You decide to slip it on yourself once you’ve left the bedroom, leaving a few of the top buttons undone. The poor boy would probably have a heart attack seeing you in his shirt, but that's perhaps exactly what you wanted. You sure did love to tease.

You make your way to the counter, preparing the brit his tea while humming. You find yourself lost in thought, thinking about all the things that occurred that evening as the kettle boils. You were so caught up in your head, that you never heard the door to the bus slam open until it was too late.

“Dude her boobs were like two melons in a shirt! I’m telling y—“ whoever the owner of the voice was had stopped themselves mid sentence. You had snapped out of your thoughts at last, and froze in fear. Oh fuck. Slowly, you turn around and sure enough there stood your fellow band members (minus Benatar of course). All of them had their mouths agape in shock as they stared at you.

You were in quite the state. Not only were you half naked while wearing Benatar’s shirt, but your hair was disheveled. What had happened between you and the blonde while the others were away was painfully obvious. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, of course they had to come back now of all times. “Did you and Benatar have sex!?” Puff yells. Oh boy, you weren't ever going to hear the end of this one.

#your favorite martian #yfm #benatar #benatar yfm #benatar x reader #benatar x reader smut #Benatar smut #Benatar your favourite martian #yfm x reader

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silverofthunder · 3 months

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dressage rider!Terzo — headcanons

i've had this idea in my mind forever but i didn't know whether i should do headcanons or just write fic/fics. then i settled for headcanons as i've not done them before. this might be a bit messy but here we go... 😊

relationships: Terzo & Reader (only platonic), Terzo/Omega

Terzo has loved horses and riding ever since he was a kid and when he got older he decided to become a dressage rider

he has a bit of spicy mare called Cadence "Caddie" (a.k.a. Queen of Ebony) and he spoils her - her wellfare is everything to him

Caddie can be really sweet, too, but it might take a time before she warms up to people

she gets easily spooked sometimes (and it might lead Terzo to go straight to the ground whenever he is riding)

she also loves to jump, though Terzo rarely does that as he doesn't feel very confident while doing so (and Caddie is not so easy to keep calm)

he used to have a gelding called Spirit who he basically grew up with and his passing was so hard for Terzo (he also always carries a pic of the gelding in his phone case)

Terzo has been pretty successful at the competitions and he takes his career as a professional dressage rider seriously

sometimes he trains too much and it leads to frustration but luckily he has a great friend (Reader) and a coach who keep him in check

many people say that he has no time for dating as he wants to focus on his career and media has made it look like he dates a lot but never settles for anything serious

that annoys Terzo, even though he rarely says it out loud

it's true that the has had several short flings but he still wants to find something serious. he prefers to keep his private life private - media however makes it hard sometimes

when this big guy (Omega) starts working at the stables where Terzo's mare lives, Terzo wants to immediately get to know the man more 😉

Terzo's brothers has also their own animal related lives: Primo is a farmer, Secondo a vet and Copia keeps a pet sanctuary

Terzo gets really nervous before competitions but it really doesn't show outside and he gets a lot of praise of not being nervous (he usually laughs off those comments and says he gets nervous but of course it's up to people if they believe him or not)

Terzo and Omega get to know each other (at first Omega doesn't seem interested but Terzo knows how to charm people) and later it gets serious (which kind of scares Terzo a bit)

they are cute with their PDA (not showing too much of it) and everyone is so happy for them

(okay, they might get caught once while having some fun in the old barn out on the fields 😁)

Reader especially is so happy as Terzo really deserves to be loved wholeheartedly

#dressage rider!terzo #terzo #terzo x omega #ghost band headcanons #jen writes headcanons

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doggernaut · 7 months

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The other day I got a really nice comment on Pucks and Recreation from a reader who appreciated the nods to Parks and Rec canon without forcing it, and I have to say, I love it when those types of comments on that fic hit my inbox. That fic has gotten quite a few comments from people who aren't familiar with Parks and Recreation but say they enjoyed it anyway, which was a surprise to me at first because as somebody who was all in on Parks from day one and deeply involved in that fandom, it was kind of unfathomable that people wouldn't be familiar with Parks.

But every once in a while I hear from people who love the show as much as I do who tell me I got it right, and that is one of the highest compliments I can receive on that fic. I dabbled a bit in Parks fic when that fandom was more active, but while I had good plots, I never felt like I got the voices right (whether I get omgcp voices right is debatable, but I do think there is a little more wiggle room there because it's not a dialogue-heavy medium with actors who inhabit the characters and influence the way we hear them). Yet that show lives deep in my bones, and I think I know it as well as anybody who was writing the fic that became fandom classics back in the day.

All this to say, I basically wrote Pucks and Recreation for myself, so whenever somebody enjoys it and understands what I was trying to do and thinks I nailed it and that it also still feels really true to Zimbits and Check, Please!, it really makes my day.

#if it was you who left that comment...thank you!

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the-lincyclopedia · 1 year

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I’ve gotten quite a few fic comments in the past two days, and I had the thought, I am so lucky. And that’s true. I am, in a lot of ways, including in fandom friendships. I have a lot of good friends in fandom, and I know that’s not something that can be earned or that should be taken for granted.

But it’s not all luck. I also have some skills around developing fandom friendships, and since we’re largely a bunch of neurodivergent folks over here in fandom, I thought it might be worth spelling some things out in case other people are wondering how to make more fandom friends, since direct instructions can be helpful.

Right off the bat, obviously, don’t be an asshole. Tell people nice things about their fics, and don’t tell them mean things about their fics (or mean things in general). If you eventually get to the point where someone has asked you to be their beta, you can give constructive criticism at that point, though it’s still important to be kind. It goes against fandom norms to give criticism, even criticism meant constructively, outside of beta relationships. If you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.

But beyond not being an asshole, here’s what I typically do: I comment a lot on other people’s fic. I probably comment on over 75% of the fics I read. Commenting is my default reader state, and I only don’t comment if I truly can’t think of anything nice to say (either because I didn’t like the fic or because I’m having trouble phrasing the thing I liked in a way that sounds good). Whenever possible, I quote-comment, meaning I use the lines I liked from the fic in the comment and basically live-react at the writer through my reading process. I try to comment on every chapter of multi-chapter fics I read.

After I’ve commented on multiple of someone’s fics, if I’m really enjoying myself, I might try to find the writer on Tumblr. I don’t mean trying to stalk them and find a non-fandom blog, obviously; I just mean looking up their AO3 username on Tumblr and seeing if they pop up. If they do, I might DM them and say how much I’ve been enjoying their fics, or how much I appreciate their characterization of a certain character, or make a fandom-related reference.

From there, sometimes people respond. Sometimes they don’t. Sometimes we don’t seem to have much to talk about. But sometimes we hit it off. If it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, I don’t push it, but if the other person also seems to be having a good time and is responding enthusiastically and/or initiating some of the time, I keep talking to them.

Note: I am less likely to try to talk to people who are clearly Big Name Fans, whatever that means in a certain fandom. I don’t show up and immediately try to catch the attention of people who surely have tons of people vying for their attention. And people who get less engagement are more likely to really appreciate having one new really enthusiastic supporter, anyway.

There comes a point in some online friendships where it’s okay to ask to exchange numbers/talk on the phone/Skype/etc. That point comes at different times in different friendships, and it may never come at all in plenty of them, and that’s all right. It’s nice to offer your information rather than asking for someone else’s (a tip I picked up in autism support groups), and you should definitely make sure the other person feels like they can say no, they’d rather not give you their number, or whatever.

It’s important to know going into this that sometimes fandom admiration isn’t mutual. Some people whose work you enjoy may not enjoy your work, and you need to be okay with that. Some people also won’t want to be your friend, and you need to be okay with that, too. This isn’t a manual on how to make everyone like you. But I do think that this way of interacting in fandom has helped me make a higher-than-average number of fandom friends.

This is not to say you have to follow all this advice or that there is One Right Way to engage in fandom. You’re not obligated to comment on anything or DM anyone, and I can’t guarantee any results even if you do. But if you’re wondering how to make more friends in fandom, being enthusiastic and complimentary (when you can do so genuinely) is a decent thing to try.

#a lin original #fandom life #fandom stuff #online friends

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catboysooyoung · 1 year

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🛒✨🎶💌 ! and, are there any elements that you’d like to incorporate into your fics and writing that you haven’t yet (for reasons of time/opportunity)?

Omg sorry I am just answering this now. I didn't think I'd get any asks... And sorry this got Very Long. I'm an incredibly self-obsessed person who loves Being Asked Things About Myself.

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

Oh hm, let's break this into parts.

Themes:

Grief/longing, haunting as part of that, difficult family relationships, love but not in the way it matters

Feels

Somberness, intimacy, despair, fear

Scenes

Quiet moments between characters where they don't say anything, but let the silence speak for them as they try to understand one another. <- not great at writing dialogue

Cooking: someone cooking for another person or someone eating someone else's cooking, shopping for cooking materials. etc.

Someone looking out the window or something similar

Imagery

I'm actually not sure about this one, I guess I make a lot of references to the night and the sea, and also like blood and guts. I think it's stuff with internal organs after all? Or maybe I just like the imagery of things coming apart. Usually they involve the body in some way. Escape or wistfulness or fear and danger are usually portrayed through the waves or the night atmosphere. Or something. Sorry, I'm not a lit major so I can't really. word it much better than this. I am also lost. If anyone's ever read a number of my works, maybe they can tell me lol.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Ughhh this is so hard because I'm a very harsh critic on myself, but I guess it's cool that I'm like, trying hard or whatever. I may not write as much this days, but the few odd pieces of poetry and such do come out okay-ish even if they also look like something that can be written much better by like, 14 year olds or something and are also super angsty with no substance. It's like, cool that I can somewhat implement some stuff I've learned be it through theory books (which I've not finished.) or through assimilation from reading other works. Like woo I'm not super horrible at studying, or whatever. I've also been told my writing is pretty "evocative" and "emotive" so I guess it's probably true? I do write a lot of my feelings. And I actually do like how... filler-y all my works feel, how meandering they are. I know nothing about film, but I always think of my writing in terms of like, directing, as in how do I want these scenes to play out? And I know not a lot of people like this sort of writing style, but I do...... Maybe I won't write anything of substance or whatever, but I can write pretty things to please myself or something.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Not really. I have something wrong with me so I can't really listen to most music when trying to write, because I'm easily influenced by the words being sung or I'd get distracted by the melody. I think I only listen to like, classical arrangements or white noise whenever I try to write. Because otherwise, my brain would be thinking of the lyrics instead of what I'm trying to write. It's the same thing with like, people speaking around me. When I can't fully tune it out, I end up... being too focused on the conversations around me and not on my actual writing lol.

As for what I've been playing on loop.... I'm told it's I'm Not Okay (I Promise) by MCR LMAO.

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

I love comments and feedback!! I always get so amazed whenever I get them because it's like, wow, you people actually care enough about my work to read it and show me what I can do to improve it??? It always feels surreal to me, I always go back to my comments section whenever I feel like shit to make myself feel better. Even the simplest comments make me happy... I get excited just by knowing people out there are seeing the stuff I put out...

But well, of course I'm also a bit wary sometimes when it comes to getting beta'd because I'm bad at not taking concrit personally and also because I constantly feel the need to be shaped by every input, like I have to follow everything to the letter, but I'm... slowly working on that lol..

Are there any elements that you’d like to incorporate into your fics and writing that you haven’t yet (for reasons of time/opportunity)?

Oh there are so, so many things I want to incorporate into my fics and writing, but I feel so, so terribly inadequate in both my skill level and my time to execute them properly:

childcare/childrearing

genuine, solid horror

sweet romance that's genuine and not one-sided or boring. And also good steamy scenes. I'm bad at these because I'm chronically bitchless and also evil and bitter and have issues.

comedy

more solid worldbuilding

better dialogue

more intricate prose

EFFICIENCY!!! I want to be able to be concise while still conveying a lot....

Sorry if I'm not getting this question right, btw fskdjfdsf

ANYWAY. THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE ASK ANON <3

#ask games #talk #mine

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eirian-houpe · 2 years

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The Monday Menu

So... only really a week into May and already it’s proving to be a tough month as far as fandom goes, (well, RL as well, but I’m sticking with fandom for the moment).

Some of you may have seen my TMI Tuesday post last week. If you didn’t it’s HERE, please take the time to go and read it. So, I’m not the only content creator in the Rumbelle fandom who has noticed a lack of engagement that has been getting steadily worse for most writers, (there are a few exceptions, but on the whole it’s true that engagement has been lacking), and I’m sad to say we’ve already lost one writer, that I know of, to this lack; a crying shame since there work was among the most though provoking and well crafter work I’ve seen in a long time.

Where am I going with this? You may well ask.

Most content creators - writers, artists, digital media creators - hold down full time jobs and work around that in order to provide new fics, new artwork, new gifs etc. for us to enjoy. Content creators are human, and like most of us get discouraged when no one appears to be reading (and I use that to refer to all media) their work. They create out of a genuine love for their fandom, but their own love alone cannot sustain the demands (emotional, intellectual and just giving up their own time to produce the work) that are placed on them by the sense of ‘responsibility’ they feel toward getting the work out there for their audience. If the audience does not appear to be there it makes it all the harder to justify the time and energy they are expending for you.

You can see last month’s engagement for me personally in the section below, and my point is this... It doesn’t take a second to hit the Kudos button on AO3, or the like on a post here on Tumblr. Better yet, comment on their posts, engage with them on their weekly posts, their TMI Tuesdays, the post where they share their work. I can’t stress enough how important that is to content creators.

Let’s all do our part to support our writers and artist. Like. Reblog. Comment. Show the love!

Here’s what I hope to be able to post this week.

Monday - The Monday Menu (6 notes in April) Tuesday - TMI Tuesday. (4 notes in April - 0 asks) Wednesday - WIP Wednesday. (6 notes in April) Thursday - Three Things Thursday. (5 notes in April) Friday - Final Line Friday. (None posted) Saturday - Secret Saturday. (None posted - no requests) Sunday - Seven Sentence Sunday. (1 notes in April)

Writing this week: I will be working on Lover’s Leap #14, and Disparate Pathways - Chapter 41, not necessarily in that order.

As always my inbox is open for thoughts, questions, asks… I don’t restrict people to any particular day of the week, and I - like most fic authors - love to discuss things to do with fics and OUAT. Whenever I have cell service, I’ll check for comments and answer what I can.

So, another HUGE thank you to those readers who have left comments on AO3. *smooches*

Talk to me, peeps! My inbox is lonely.

#rumbelle #psa #engagement #The monday menu #disparate pathways #Lover's Leap #i will always write jefferson

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

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HSLOT WASHINGTON D.C.

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

*inspired by this *

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a week 😌)

Despite Harry being less than active on social media, it doesn’t mean that he didn’t creep through Instagram and Twitter after the shows.

He used a fake account to scroll, constantly liking pictures and videos of his wife dancing or funny fan signs to his phone.

Tonight, after the Philly show, YN was already fast asleep in their tour bus bed - she had curled into Harry with her leg between his and her head on his bicep.

Harry was trending on Twitter for his show, however, he scrolled a bit further and noticed that a hashtag called #JusticeforYN was trending.

When he clicked on the link, it took him down a rabbit hole of screenshots and videos from the concert.

It doesn’t take long to see what had happened, it was a girl recording herself on Snapchat from the pit during the concert.

The ‘fan’ held up her phone enough that you could see her but also YN, Jeff, Harry Lambert, and Tommy in the background behind the pit.

Adore You started blasting through his AirPod and the girl recorded his wife dancing with their friends - he gets distracted for a moment, watching her have fun and sing along.

He loved her so fucking much.

But then, it’s the next clip, and the captioned text on the video said ‘Harry’s Whore.’

The small smile on his face disappears instantly when he sees where this is going.

In the next few segments, the girl is screaming things at YN who can’t even hear them because of the music but it’s still completely disrespectful.

“Hi, Harry’s Whore!”

“Get the fuck outta here, nobody wants you here!”

“Fuck you!”

It makes Harry rage, even from the comfort of his bunk with his perfect love, and then he digs deeper to find his real fans defending YN.

YN was pretty loved by the fans. She was always kind, posted pictures of Harry (because he rarely did), and made really kickass merch.

He finds the Twitter account of the girl who harassed his wife, her name was Gina, and he read through her tweets.

She was going to three more of the concerts - following them from Philly to Detroit.

One of her tweets said…

‘If you guys are mad about what I said during the last concert, just wait what I have to say to her next time.’

And he also finds out that she had won a meet and greet for the DC show through the record label and Harry already knew what he was gonna do.

YN wakes up before Harry, sitting in the small living area of the bus - watching a cooking show on the television and still slightly dozing in and out of sleep.

“Hi bun,” She mumbles, opening her arms and legs to let Harry flop between them. Chest to chest and he was a bit to heavy for this but he liked laying like this.

“Mornin’, my love,” Harry rasps, peppering kisses all over her jaw and the smooth column of her neck until she giggles.

“Shouldn’t you be saying good morning to your whore on tour?” YN replies, her voice is light and unbothered - obviously found out the online drama.

Harry tenses up, looks up at her seriously, and tells her, “M’gonna take care of it.”

“Don’t, it’s fine, bubs,” YN assures him, she’s smiling softly and Harry just…he is so obsessed with the woman below him that he has to kiss her for a long moment.

“No, it’s not. I’m not going t’let someone treat m’wife like that. She won tha’ meet and greet. I’m gonna have a talk w’her when she comes backstage,” Harry tells her, lips brushing on every word and he can help but grind his hips forward against her.

“Always so horny in the morning,” Yn teases but still lets her thighs fall open a little bit more so that the only barrier is their underwear.

“Can y’blame me? Look wha’ I wake up to,” He rumbles, voice getting illogically deeper and raspier when he speaks.

It’s not long before he tugs his briefs down just enough and her panties to the side to get inside her with his lips glued to hers.

He’s whispering things that would make him blush with embarrassment if anyone heard him.

“Can’t believe y’mine after all this time.”

“Y’my perfect match, on m’knees for you whenever you ask.”

“Arena full of people and all I see is you, baby.”

“Feel like heaven.”

“Only y’make me feel like this.”

“Come on, stubborn girl. Show me y’love me.”

Harry looks insanely stunning in his purple outfit but honestly - YN always steals the show (without even trying). ***

They’re in a common area, waiting for the meet and greet with the fans - it’s comical how Gina’s face drops when she arrives to see Harry facing away from everyone with YN giggle as he crowds her up against a wall.

They can hear Harry murmur, “Y’alway showin’ me up. Only gonna be able to look at y’during the show, bug.”

“Harry,” Jeff calls to his client, making him turn around and his eyes instantly search the small groups of fans until his eyes land on a girl dressed in a bright pink fishnet dress and boa.

“You,” Harry points at her, his face isn’t giving away any emotion, “Can I have a chat w’you?”

“S-sure,” She stutters, eyes wide and excited - oblivious that Harry actually knows what she had been posted on social media.

The singer takes her off to the side, YN’s eyes keep darting to them as she chats with the friendly fans who are complimenting her dress and her merch designs.

Frank is standing near Harry, prepared to escort the girl out after the conversation.

“Can we get a selfie?” Gina asks, pulling out her cellphone.

“No,” Harry replies seriously, “You also are going to get escorted out of this arena and banned from any of my future concerts.”

“Wh-what?” The girl stumbles, eyes watering as she looks at him in confusion and dismay.

“I need to make this a safe space for everyone who comes to my concerts. That especially includes m’wife. And I don’t feel comfortable havin’ someone scream at m’wife and posting nasty things on social media attending my concert.”

Realization flashes across Gina’s face, “I’m so so sorry. I can apologize. I really didn’t mean-“

“No. I don’t think my whore of a wife would want to hear it,” Harry chuckles with a nasty edge, “Y’can fuck off now. Go find a new artist to harass ‘cause if I see y’face at one of m’concerts - y’getting kicked out immediately.”

Frank appears beside them, gently guiding the hysterical girl out of the room while the fans look back in confusion.

They forget all about it once Harry saunters up to them and gives them a crooked smile, “Hi, m’Harry. How are y’guys?”

The fans don’t miss his hand moving quickly to squeeze his wife’s hip in reassurance before starting to sign things and take pictures.

Later that night, the disgruntled ‘fan’ sends out a nasty few tweets where real fans go after her and defend YN.

Also, the true fans are cooing over the fact that Harry is such a good husband.

haleyhs22: omg, could you imagine being called out by the nicest guy on this earth

tpwkjess_young: okay but I wish I had the luck that @ynstyles has to get a manz like that 😩

UsWeekly: Harry Styles bans ignorant fan from tour after nasty videos were leaked attacking his wife

strawberriesinsummer: harry is such a VIBE. Like he deadass kicked that girl out and then spent the whole night trying to seduce his wife with his shimmies and winks - he’s the hoe 🍑

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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chemicalpink · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

#thebtswritersclub #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagine

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