#im SO fucking angry im shaking. i have NEVER heard her say ANYTHING like that to him abt his interests. but he can and its FINE??
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not my dad making my nine year old sister cry bc he can't shut the fuck up abt not liking her interests!!!!!
#IF YOU DONT HAVE SMTH NICE TO SAY DONT SAY ANYTHING AT ALL#YOU ARE SHAMING A CHILD FOR HER INTERESTS. WHILE YOU SIT THERE ON YOUR FUCKIN PHONE ALL NIGHT.#WITH YOUR SPEAKER BLARING THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME BC YOU CANT BE BOTHERED TO USE HEADPHONES.#im SO fucking angry im shaking. i have NEVER heard her say ANYTHING like that to him abt his interests. but he can and its FINE??#i dont know if i made my daughter feel that bad i would care a little more!!!! i would feel terrible!!! but no.#its okay bc he doesnt like it and doesnt understand the concept of shutting the fuck up.#i am NOT going to let that happen to her.#i still remember the first time i showed him smth and three seconds later he said it was stupid... i was devastated#and i am not going to let that happen to her. im not.#i STILL struggle w feeling guilty for indulging in my interests. and that started with him.#im sorry. im just. im so angry. and i feel so hopeless at the same time because i know nothing will change. its so. its so heavy#i wish we could get thru to him but if we havent by now... its never going to happen#milo murmurs#fuck im sorry. i know this is a vent blog but fuck i wish things were different#he wasnt always this way#all she wants to do is watch her favourite yters play minecraft & gorilla tag. why does he have to shit all over that#just because hes not personally interested????? just be quiet instead maybe??????
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should’ve been me
✩ insecure y/n, bpd y/n, hurt/comfort, argument, angst, words of affirmation
🫧
“i want to watch it!!!” you exclaimed while trying to rip bada’s phone out of her hands. you were laying on the couch with your head in her lap, arms swinging wildly. you sat up to reach the phone, which bada was holding high in the air with one hand, using the other hand to shield you away.
“no it’s embarassinggggg” bada whined. she stood up off the couch, still holding her phone above her head. you followed her in suit, on your tippy toes and jumping to try to reach.
you were thinking in the back of your mind how attractive the height difference was, but you quickly shoved that thought to the side and focused on the task at hand.
you tackled her to the ground and successfully grabbed the phone bringing it to your chest and guarding it with both hands.
you laughed and fell backward, catching your breath.
“y/n…” bada sighed as she laid down next to you on the floor, defeated.
you didn’t notice her nervous expression as you pressed play.
“wow you’re so hot im kicking my feet.” you say as you watch bada dance with tatter.
you smiled as you watched, until they got a bit too close to each other. your smile fell slightly.
you felt yourself becoming more upset the longer you watched, but you didn’t say anything.
bada held her breath next to you, dreading your reaction to the ending of the choreography.
you watched as bada brought her hand to tatter’s neck, pushing her head up to make eye contact with her. this was too much.
you dropped the phone to the floor with a flat expression. you felt angry, your chest heating up, but you couldn’t ignore the pain and sadness rising as you laid there.
you hated how bada looked at her with that sensual look on her face. you hated how close they were. you hated that it wasn’t you.
“what the fuck bada.”
“y/n-”
“i didn’t like that.” you said as you sat up, distancing yourself from her.
“don’t be that way, y/n. it doesn’t mean anything.” she groaned, sounding angry herself.
her tone only escalated your anger, as you looked at her in bewilderment. you realized the real reason she didn’t want you to watch it. she never would have shown you by choice, she meant to hide this from you.
you stood up from the ground, followed by bada. you tried to walk away, but she grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face her again.
“seriously?” bada exclaimed.
“i don’t want to talk to you.” you said, shaking yourself away from her touch.
she let you go, watching you walk to your bedroom.
she didn’t know if she should leave you be and go home, or try to plead her case.
—
you didn’t talk to bada for the rest of the night. she decided to stay over, but thankfully she didn’t try to talk to you either.
you were still mad, but as you lay on your bed alone now, the sadness and insecurity started to overwhelm you.
it was 2 am, and you were still awake, thinking, ruminating.
you found yourself wondering if bada was still awake. even though you were angry with her, you still had the instinct to run to her for comfort.
your emotions flooded your mind, and you couldn’t hold it together anymore. tears flowed out as you tried to remain quiet.
you hated yourself in this moment. you felt insufficient, and as if bada deserved better than you.
the problem was you. bada was only with you because she pitied you. she didn’t care for you one bit, let alone did she love you the way you loved her.
you were sitting on the floor now, holding your head and rocking back and forth. you stopped trying to conceal the noise of you gasping for air.
your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps from the living room, headed towards your bedroom door.
you immediately tiptoed to the bed and dove under the covers, attempting to pretend to be asleep.
you laid there still as you heard your bedroom door opening and closing, followed by footsteps moving towards you.
you tried to slow your breathing, praying to god that bada hadn’t heard you.
you felt her sit down on the bed next to you, your heart racing.
“y/n, i know you’re awake.”
fuck.
you uncovered your face but didn’t turn to face her. you felt embarrassed that she heard you. she probably thought you were crazy. it was all over.
all the love you felt for her was about to be crushed.
“i love you so much.” bada said as she wrapped her arms around you, cradling your head and slowly rocking you.
you felt her kiss your temple and you immediately softened and fell victim to her soothing touch.
“you’re my beautiful girl.” she said, running her hand up and down your waist.
“it doesn’t feel like it.” you said, tears welling up in your eyes once again.
“i just don’t understand why you felt the need to do that. i understand it’s just choreography but i feel disrespected.” you said.
bada rested her chin on your shoulder.
“i’m so sorry i made you upset. truthfully, the ending part was tatter’s idea. i was scared to tell her that i felt it was kind of inappropriate.” she said.
you sighed.
“but i shouldn’t have agreed to it.” you turned and looked at her. she wiped your tears with her thumbs and pushed your hair behind your ears.
“i should have known how you would feel when you saw that, i put my own feelings before yours.”
“bada-”, you started but she continued.
“i already know what you’re going to say. and no, you are not controlling. you have a right to say something when i hurt you. we’re in a relationship.” she said sternly.
you looked at her with slight astonishment at her ability to read your mind. you had started to feel guilt washing over you, convincing yourself that you were manipulative and that you were too hard on bada.
she laughed ever so slightly at your expression, more of a puff of air through her nose and a small smile. she was looking down at you in adoration, hovering over your body.
“i know you.” she said, cupping your face, running her thumb across your cheek.
“and i know you’ve been in here all alone, feeling like you aren’t good enough or pretty enough, which is all bullshit.”
another tear slid down your face, which bada quickly wiped away.
“you know i would never lie to you. you are the most beautiful girl in this world. you look like a princess.” she said, smiling down at you.
you cried more, trying to cover your face with your hands, but bada grabbed you. “my princess.” she finished with a kiss to your forehead.
she laid her head down on your chest, raising her head up to kiss your neck. you wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her hair with your other hand.
“i’m very sorry for acting immature.” you finally said.
“it’s okay. i know you were just hurt.” she replied.
“do you promise you still love me?” you asked sincerely.
she looked up at you with a slight smile, grabbing your jaw softly with her hand.
“of course i do. i will always love you sweet girl.” she said, gently pressing her lips to yours.
“so much.” she kissed you again and again until she felt you smile against her lips. when she pulled away you were still smiling down at her.
she laid her head down on your chest again, rubbing your stomach gently under your shirt. you leaned down and kissed her head.
“i love you too.” you said.
the comfort you felt in this moment made up for all the negative emotions you had felt that night.
all you felt was safety, and nothing was wrong in the world.
“please talk to me next time. i want to help you when you’re feeling like this.” bada said.
“okay, i promise i’ll be honest with you from now on.” you nodded.
she kissed your waist before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. you felt butterflies as she moved you onto her lap effortlessly, looking you straight in the eyes.
she didn’t say anything, but she pulled you closer into her, rubbing your back while supporting your weight with her body.
you both sat like that for a while, feeling the comfort of each other’s presence. eventually, bada laid you down on the bed and covered you up.
she laid down next to you, pulling you into her chest and holding you. “goodnight,” she spoke with one last kiss to your head.
“i love you,” you said, slightly dozing off from the warmth of her body.
“i love you too.”
🫧
a/n: AHHHHH my first work 🤧🤧 there will be a lot more i rly hope this wasn’t dog shit i kind of got carried away with the comfort at the end lol hope you liked it 🪷
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hey~
im back with another request if you don’t mind! Can I request a Lee Giyu and Ler Tanjiro? I feel like Tanjiro heard from one of the other hashira he was ticklish and was like 👀
If you don’t wanna write it that’s completely fine! Have a nice day/night!
Hiiiiiiiii ofc 💛💛
You can teach him a lesson
Lee: Gyuu Tomioka
Ler: Tanjiro Kamado
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Ships: NONE
Warnings: This is a tickle fic, if you don’t like it, just scroll down
This fanfic is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Tanjiro ran, when he smelled hatred, through the corridors of the great Butterfly Mansion
He was about to enter a room when he heard a voice say:
“I'm going to catch that boy, and I'm going to kill him” the deadly voice said
Tanjiro stopped abruptly, hiding behind the open bedroom door.
He gasped, that voice… was it Miss Shinobu? Why was she so angry? Who was she mad at?
“I'll finish him off, I will” Shinobu sighed, calming down “but first I'll find out who's behind the door”
Shit, she’s a hashira
Tanjiro felt butterflies in his stomach, he appeared at the entrance of the room, blushing because he was eavesdropping, something he didn't like to do.
“Tanjiro! What brings you here?” Shinobu smiled, but Tanjiro could feel that she was angry.
“I-I smelled anger and came to see what had happened.”
Shinobu laughed at his embarrassment
“It’s okay darling, I was just talking to myself about Tomioka”
Tanjiro widened his eyes “Tomioka?! Do you want to kill Tomioka?”
Shinobu smiled, Tanjiro could see her expression twitching
“Yes, he’s quite annoying, don’t you think?” She looked at the desk full of homework she was sitting at, she had a lot to do “but I'm very busy. Oh! I have an idea! Can you kill him for me?”
Tanjiro was scared “WHAT?!”
Shinobu laughed "you're not really going to kill him silly" she got up and went towards Tanjiro
“And then what am I going to do?”
“You’re going to tickle him”
What? Tickling? What was happening? Tanjiro had never thought about the possibility of Gyuu being ticklish.
“H-he’s ticklish?”
“Of course he is! This is how we teach him lessons.”
“And you want me to go teach him a lesson?”
“Yes” she said affectionately, as if she hadn’t just said that she wanted to kill him.
Tanjiro surprisingly broke into a wide smile
"I got it! I loved the task, miss!”
Shinobu laughed “first of all, one thing…”
"Yes?"
“Tomioka won’t crack a smile unless you squeeze his weak spot.”
Tanjiro looked confused “and where is it?”
“Right here” she said giving his knee a squeeze.
Tanjiro jumped back, shaking off the feeling.
“That’s right, darling”
"I understood!" Tanjiro ran out without waiting for anything else.
Shinobu stood still, then laughed
“He will pay you handsomely…” and went back to her work
Tanjiro was already on the other side of the mansion, looking for the water hashira
While running, he bumped into someone
"I'm sorry, I-" Tanjiro looked up
He saw it was Gyuu
“Okay” Gyuu just turned around and tried to move on
"Hang on!" Tanjiro grabbed his arm
The man turned and looked at him blankly “yes?”
Tanjiro blushed, but he felt a glimmer of courage inside him.
“Miss Shinobu told me to teach you a lesson!”
So Tanjiro simply pressed that place on Gyuu's legs and made him fall to the ground.
“What the f-“ Gyuu was choked, he felt the tingling rise up his body and the urge to laugh increase, but what the fuck did Shinobu want now?
“TAHANJIHIRO” he shouted, trying to sound furious, at the same time as he was laughing
“Wow, Tomioka” Tanjiro laughed “I didn’t expect to see you laugh like that”
The man tried to grab Tanjiro's hands, but they were squeezing his entire body at an impressive speed, it seemed like the boy had a lot of experience with this.
“I think you owe her an apology, sir.”
Gyuu shook his head “AHAHA OK OK, I’LL APOLOHOGIHIHIZE”
Tanjiro observed him “your smile is beautiful sir, I think that's one of the reasons why everyone tickles you, to see you smile, isn't it?”
“JUHUST STOHOP” Hashira suppressed his laughter
“Okay, okay, sorry”
The boy stopped
Gyuu let himself melt into the ground, like jelly, he secretly loved the feeling of being melted like this
“I’m sorry sir, orders from Miss. Shinobu” Tanjiro said, giving Gyuu an evil smile, as if to say that he loved it.
The hashira observed the boy, then slowly stood up with a strange smile on his face.
“You better start running, Tanjiro”
“B-but, it was Miss Shino-“
Tanjiro's eyes widened when he saw that Gyuu was going to jump on top of him.
The boy ran away as if using thunder breath, and the man followed, at the same speed.
They say that Gyuu Tomioka is not one to feel sorry for whoever he attacks, poor Tanjiro
It was “poking a jaguar with a short stick” as some Brazilian would say, it seems like he messed with the wrong person
❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜❤️🧡
Thanks for reading 💛💛
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Regrets & Resilience I
Abstract:Meet an Avenger with a past as heavy as her armor, caught in a web of history and heartache. Crushes and grudges collide when she joins forces with Wanda Maximoff on a wild mission. But when trouble hits hard, it's her turn to step up and shield the very person who resented her.
TW:angst,mentions of death,battle scene,detailed injury description,sight loss. That's all I think
I'm slammed against the wall by the angry Sokovian and I groan as my head bounces off the concrete walls of the warehouse. I push her away and that pissed her off even more and I was so confused. Yes we were on a mission in Sokovia to deal with Hydra, but these two twins were making it a living hell...and they were especially mad at dad and me. I don't know her, I never did anything to her.
"Let's just calm down an-" I hiss as her fist meets my jaw and her brother speeds to her holding her back.
"Let me at her Pietro! They killed them! You took everything from us!" She yells and I was more confused than ever. The brother speeds off with her and I find my way out of the basement I somehow ended up with while fighting with her.
Later on I ended up finding out her name was Wanda Maximoff and the weapons my dad built were the reason her parents were dead. I've never felt more guilty in my life.
..
Scratch that..I felt guilty every day now. After the battle in Sokovia against Ultron they both became Avengers and it was so awkward to say the least. She would make snarky comments at me every now and then and if it came to me training her she would refuse it. She was on amazing terms with everyone except my dad and me.
I walk by her room one night as I couldn't sleep from having nightmares, then I hear crying coming out of Wanda's room. I knock and come inside to see her asleep having a nightmare. My heart breaks as I see sweat coating her body and sobs making her whole body shake. I shake her gently and she doesn't budge. I do it once more and her eyes snap open. When she sees it's me she jumps up and slams me against the wall and I yelp.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Wanda says her voice broken from all the crying and I gulp.
"I-Im sorry I heard you crying-I tried to help you, I felt bad." I stutter out and she chuckles darkly.
"You didn't feel bad when your daddy killed my parents?!" She yells at my face and I feel tears brim in my eyes.
"Wanda I was a k-"
"So was I! He did it, so you're just as much to blame! You're his blood!" She yells and I shake my head, but she pushes me out of the room. " I don't wanna hear anything from you. I will never EVER forgive you or him." She yells with angry tears streaming down her face and I walk out the room crying. I go to Natasha's room and she was peacefully asleep as I silently walked in. I climb into her bed and she flinches sitting up, but soon relaxes when she sees it was me.
"Y/N you're crying. Another nightmare? " She asks caressing my cheek and immediately bringing me up to her chest as she cuddles me.
"I walked by Wanda's room and heard her crying..she was having a nightmare I tried to help her and she pinned me against the wall and yelled at me. She said it was all my fault because I was his kid and that she will never forgive me." I say sobbing and Natasha holds me rocking us softly.
"Y/N don't listen to her. You didn't do anything. You were a kid still in training and you didn't even know what your dad was doing. " She tries to comfort me, but something else was on my heart.
"Natasha I-I think I like her, but she hates me to my core."
"Well shit."Natasha says and I cry some more before eventually falling asleep with Natasha singing some Russian lullabies to me.
After a while I just kept my distance from Wanda not wanting to upset her even more. Even when she had snarky remarks or anything I would just mumble an apology and walk away.
"You two can't keep ignoring each other and fighting every chance you get when you are a team." Furry says and I bow my head down, while Wanda stays silent. "You two are going on a mission together ..bond." Furry says and Wanda chuckles.
"Don't expect me to pull her ass out of trouble, if she gets into it...I'm leaving." Wanda says with Pietro shaking his head. Pietro actually came up to me and said he didn't blame me, but that his sister was just in a different situation..whatever that meant.
It was now the middle of the mission and our comms were messed up by some Hydra technology. We were struggling really hard, but after a while we took care of all Hydra personal, or so we thought. I walk up to Wanda who was trying to get in touch with the team and I see a guy in a suit running straight at her. I push her out of the way and he slams into me, immediately crushing a few bones when his iron suit crashed into my body. I only had a leather suit with some protective gear on it today because I didn't think the mission would require my hard suit. I stand up and go in my fighting stance. He goes to shoot a rocket at Wanda but I quickly use my powers to create an energy shield around her and it bounces off shooting at us launching the both of us a couple of meters away. I feel a burning pain in various parts of my body and I cough from the smoke of the explosion. I stand weakly in front of Wanda again using my powers to create a shield and she slams against it.
"Y/N let me he-" But I don't hear her as the guy slams into me again and I feel a sharp stabbing pain in my side and I use the remaining energy to launch him away with my powers . I fall to my knees but still hold the shield in front of Wanda.
"Quit agent, I will kill you both." He says and I chuckle wiping some blood of my face.
"Get through me first. Starks don't quit." I say getting up again and he aims his rocket launcher at me and I run at him making him fall down on the ground. We roll around in the dirt and my head hits a huge stone leaving a throbbing sensation in my head. I still used my powers to keep Wanda in a shield while I fought with him which was almost impossible, but my instinct was to keep her safe. I have to repay her. It was all my fault. He grabs my throat between his hands and I struggle to push them off grabbing onto his wrists.
"Say hi to the other so called heroes we killed." He says with a grin as I could see his face now since his mask he fell off.
"I will die fighting."I launch him off me using all my body strength and roll onto him. I was hollow and empty, but I knew I had to carry on, even with my breathing becoming more and more ragged and my entire body just wanting to quit and die. I hear Wanda yell my name as she slams against the shield desperately trying to get out. I slam my fists against his face and go to take my knife out of my thigh holster to kill him, but he aims his rocket launcher at both him and me.
"Hail Hydra." He says and I try to use a little of my powers to keep myself safe, but everything goes black quickly as I'm blinded by the explosion and all I could feel was excruciating pain as I lay on the ground not even having the strength to move. I hear footsteps running up to me through the ringing in my ears and I feel warm hands on my cheeks.
"Hey! Hey! Open your eyes please." I hear Wanda beg through sobs and I weakly open my eyes coughing slightly. Even though my eyes were open everything was black as I cough and my lungs rasp I feel a metallic taste in my mouth.
"I-I can't see!" I mumble choking slightly on what I guess is my own blood and taking a weak breath as I panic." Are yo-ou okay?" I mumble taking a weak painful breath after every word and feeling around for Wanda who holds my hand.
"Fuck! I am thanks to you, why the fuck would you do that?! Are you crazy?! I treat you like shit!" Wanda says and presses an emergency button on her comms as I heard and by some miracle it goes through.
"I-I ..crush..on...you." I cough out more blood and my chest was on fire. Wanda's tear filled eyes widen as she caresses my cheek. "It was my f-fault..parents died..I deserve to d-ie protecti-ing you." I say and she shakes her head and I feel the world slipping away from me.
"No...no..I forgave you! I-I did!...Fuck I should have fixed it! Please don't blame yourself. Stay with me..Ill show you I'm not mad. I haven't been in a while.. I just didn't know how to fix everything so I just continued what I was doing." She says and I chuckle, but cry out in pain quickly.
"Don't be nice..becaus-e I'm dying. W-we ran out of time..I'm sorry ...M-maybe in another l-life..we are together..yeah sounds nice." I mumble and close my eyes. I feel my breathing slowing down until all I feel is a harsh metallic taste and it didn't even hurt that bad anymore.
As Y/N stopped breathing Wanda shook her head and wiped her tears with her bloody hands. She ripped off the parts of the suit left on the motionless body.
"You're not fucking dying!" She yells as she looks at the badly wounded body and she puts her hands in position to start reviving the helpless girl. "Stay with me please...please. I never wanted you to be hurt..you can't die now. It's not your time to rest yet..please don't leave me too." Wanda says and then gives mouth to mouth and continues chest compressions as blood pools around them. She hears the team coming in the jet and she continues desperately trying to feel a steady pulse in the weak girl in front of her. Natasha and Tony are the first to run out of the jet and they look at the scene of Wanda crying above Y/N trying to bring her back to life.
"No not my baby!" Tony screams running up to his daughter tears falling down as he cradles her in his arms and Wanda sits on the dirt defeated sobbing.
"Did you do this?!" Natasha yells at Wanda running at her, but Steve holds her back.
"S-she protected..me" Wanda mumbles quietly, while Natasha sobs on Steve's shoulder. Clint runs up to them and takes Y/N away from Tony and into the jet where doctors immediately start trying to revive her. They all haul in and they are soon in the air going as fast as possible to the compound hospital. They use the defibrillator on her and her body jumps up, but no heartbeat shows up. Wanda sobs holding her head in her hands. They try one more time and a faint heartbeat shows up. Wanda's head snaps up as the doctors put in a breathing tube and start putting in an IV with blood. Everything else is a blur as I just spent the ride crying my eyes out.
...
I wake up feeling a weird thing in my mouth and pain all through my body. I open my eyes but I'm unable to see anything even though they were open. I feel on my face for where my eyes were and they were covered by gauzes. I hear the steady sound of the heart monitor and I panic as I'm unable to speak from this thing in my mouth, everything hurts and I can't see because of these damn gauzes. I guess someone was in my room and heard me stirring as the chair scraped against the floor loudly.
"Y/N! You're awake! Okay calm down you have a breathing tube in,I'll get someone to take it out." I recognized the voice as Natasha's and she ran out of the room. I hear her coming soon after with a couple more footsteps following and soon enough I hear a new voice.
"Hi Y/N, I'm your doctor. I'm gonna take out your tube now so we can talk okay?" She asks and I give her a thumbs up. She pulls it out after a lot of discomfort and I take a weak breath with my lungs still on fire.
"W-water." I mumble and I am handed a glass of water which I clumsily drank.
"So Y/N, you were out for three days and to be honest it's a miracle you're still alive. Collapsed right lung wing from the stabbing, four broken ribs, multiple wounds basically not an inch of your body was free of wounds. You had a hard concussion and well the last one is the worst." She says and I listen curiously.
"What, did I like losing a limb? I feel them all...I just can't see because of these gauzes may you please get them off?" I ask in a raspy voice being out of breath just from saying that.
"That's the thing.. I am so sorry to tell you this, but when you came here there was blood and debris all over your face. At the time we thought it was just coming from the skin, but it turns out your eyes were bleeding severely and had been severely hurt during the rocket explosion. The debris ended up going into your eyes causing severe damage to your optic nerve. Meaning you have permanently lost your sight." The doctor says and I chuckle shaking my head.
"No..no I don't believe you. Just take this off and I'll see, you guys are joking ...please you have to be." I say weakly as I tug on the gauzes and the doctor sighs removing them while I hear Natasha sniffle. I feel the gauzes have been removed , but it all stayed dark. I sob and panic feeling around and I hear more footsteps running up to the room. "No please I can't...this can't be real!" I sob louder and I hear my mom cry out.
"Baby it's okay, you're going to be okay!" Pepper says sobbing and holding onto my hand and I feel another hand hold mine which was rougher and I recognized it as my dad's hand.
"Mama I can't see!" I sob ignoring the burning pain in my lungs as it hurt to cry.
..
Wanda listens in front of the room where Y/N was and she slides down the wall crying when she hears the heartbreaking scene inside the room. Her life is forever changed because of a stupid sacrifice.
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Angry… part 1
↳ neteyam x fem! human reader x lo’ak
✩ warnings: neteyam is 18 lo’ak is 17, y/n is 17, fighting, cursing, and jealous.
✩ synopsis: neteyam has always had some hatred toward you. lo’ak and you are best friends, nothing can separate you too. On this particular day, you were sunbathing when Aonung and his friends started to pick on you, they quickly stop once neteyam comes and helps you....
✩ note: hi everyone, this will be my first time writing. it will probably be bad so sorry.
when I was younger I was always alone. I’m a human, that has to be the loneliest race ever. I was born in pandora with another baby named spider, I never really liked him though. when I met lo’ak I finally realized what it meant to have a meaning. I didn’t have parents I didn’t even have a family. Jake was always nice to me but I knew deep down he didn’t want me around. I reminded him of himself when he was human, it was sad really. Don’t get me started on Neytiri, she hated me and she showed it. she never liked me, said I should be with my own people, says I will cause trouble for her sons. she says this while knowing that…
lo’ak is my meaning. my best friend. my reason,
we had just moved to a new village it was pretty, the people were so different it scared me lowkey. since day one of getting here, I was getting bullied, and today was no exception.
Aonung and his friends had found me sunbathing.
“what are you doing over here, freakkkkk.” he stretches out the k in freak.
“where is your lil boyfriend is he off with some other girl??”
“leave me alone aonung, and he isn’t my boyfriend he’s my best friend something that you don’t have.” his friends start to instigate the conversation “ohhhhh” “you going to let her talk to you like that”
“stfu y’all are literally my friend, idiot.” with that, aonung started to walk closer his friends quickly following right behind him. “listen her y/n if you’re lil boyfriend doesn’t want you anymore you can always come be with me, god knows how much i want you to be a slut for me.” the smirk so clearly on his face while saying that. my whole body shakes of disgust for some reason i felt dirty even though i clearly did nothing wrong.
i can see from the corner of my eye aonung’s hand start to go up, about to be reaching for my hand but stopped when he heard “aonung you know you don’t want to do that.”
“you know exactly what will happen once you do” i with everybody else was shocked to see neteyam.
neteyam has hated me since birth lo’ak says it’s because he doesn’t see “good” in me. but i think it’s because he’s jealous of me for taking up lo’ak’s time.
aonung was the most surprise, he knew that neteyam didn’t like me.
“wtf are you doing here neteyam this isn’t your bitch.” “who is he calling a bitch” i say in my brain.
“watch your mouth, aonung you know exactly what this is and how much she means to my brother.”
“i don’t like her but my brother does so i have to protect her whether i like it, or not.” neteyam makes sure to say this louder then anything he has said previously.
“y/n stop looking stupid and come over here or do you want to stay with these idiots?.” quickly i moved my small feet towards him god knows i didn’t want to be anywhere near aonung.
neteyam and i we’re starting to walk away when aonung yells out
“her pussy must be so good if she has the sully brothers so pussywiped” “maybe after you’re done you can let me fuck her” with that neteyam was off before i can turn around i see ao’nung on the floor with his hand on his check, bleeding.
“never talk about her in that manner again she not yours, she’s ours” who tf is “ours” who was he referring to? god im so confused….
neteyam is dragging me towards another land. when i say dragging i mean he was literally dragging me.
we had finally stopped after what felt like an hour of him dragging me. he dropped his hand from the arm he was dragging and turns around, making eye contact with me and says “you can not leave my watch anymore, who knows what ao’nung would have done if he was alone with you”
“he likes you y/n, did you know that?”
“why would i care he means nothing to me” “plus the only man i’ve ever cared about is lo’ak” the eyes that were once yellow and concerned were now dark yellow and filled with what seemed to be jealousy.
“why must he be the only guy you see”
“what are you talking about”
“why can’t you say something nice to me, why can’t you say “thank you for helping me neteyam” instead the first thing you have to bring up is lo’ak newsflash he wasn’t there, i was, can i be that hard to pay attention to ”
“wtf are you talking about??? you have been mean to me since i was born you’ve never tried to talk to me, shit this is the first conversation we have had since i was a baby.”
“don’t you ever wonder why” “no not really i don’t really care about it”
“god it’s because i see you, i see you y/n”
“once i saw ao’nung about to touch you i knew that i felt something for you”
“The reason why I haven’t been nice to you or talked to you is because of lo’ak.” “he has told me that he was yours” “his" "yes his"
"he has told me that you were his future mate and it made sense all of those years, I believed him, but now I know you aren't his mate, you are just strangely attached to him like a lost puppy" "lo’ak has told you that I am his?" “lo'ak is nothing more than a friend"
just as I was about to say more neteyam come closer to me, and now I can’t hear anything but my heartbeat at this moment I felt “good” not dirty like before.
neteyam was quick to grab my hand, and for some reason I let him. this is the first time neteyam has ever touched me. this is the first time my heart has ever started going crazy.
as if the planet knew what was about to happen lo’ak popped up.
“y/n I’ve been looking for you everywhere I heard what happened- he stops as he sees neteyam’s and my hand together.
“neteyam what are you doing here?” “I was just leaving,” he says simply and starts to walk away. but for some reason I didn’t let go of his hand I grabbed it tighter. lo’ak took notice of my action.
neteyam turns his head towards me and tilts his head an action that I’ve noticed his whole family does. he looks at me then his eyes start to go down my whole body and stop when our hand comes into view.
he doesn’t even have to say to let go off his hand, his face so clearly says it for himself. he looks mad, very mad. what did I do? I didn’t do anything wrong, why was he so mad at me even after he told me his feelings for me?
quickly I let go of the hand that I was once holding. I missed it so much, in so little time that i had felt it, I missed the warmth of his big hand on my small hand, I miss the feeling of being “good” even though he so clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with me at this moment, what had just happen?
neteyam walks away nodding his head towards his brother without saying a word to him, but for some reason, lo’ak knows exactly what he is saying. As quickly as he comes he was gone..never in my life have I wished for him to return but today it was different, why?
should i make a part 2??
#Spotify#avatar#avatar the way of water#neteyam#neteyam sully#lo’ak sully#lo’ak#neteyam x reader#lo’ak x reader#request
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baby scarab || 54
anon - y/n slapping marc on the butt so hard he falls over
~~~
anon - i only speak the truth
with that said, y/n pokes his butt whenever he is in front of her walking up the stairs. they share a parental bond but also a sibling one when y/n is mischievous enough?
~~~
anon - I just had a really cool bs idea. so like you know how y/n got turned into an 8 year old because of the murder bird, well do you also remember when Marc said he wanted to see things like y/ns first step and words and stuff. well what if murder bird turned y/n into a baby but this time she has a babies mind. and that way the moon boys can see her first steps and possibly her first words. I think that'd be really sweet and funny cause they prob have no idea how to take care of a baby ;)
~~~
A/N : this is everywhere.
masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist
A/N : THERE IS NO MORE SCHEDULE, IM SORRY also thank you all sm for the support and requests :)))
please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait
pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader
TW : medicine (pills), spidey stuff, mentions of violence, language, fighting, nothing else really, crack, let me know if i missed anything.
~~~
you and marc were eating dinner when your tingle went off.
you didn’t know why, even though you and marc sweepers the entire apartment in the middle of dinner and locked all the windows.
you couldn’t find a single thing that could’ve set it off.
marc suggested that maybe your abilities were going haywire again.
steven and jake agreed, and you all let it go.
but the one thing you didn’t tell them was that it also went off when you were walking home from town earlier that day.
and yet again, you paid no mind to it, hoping it was nothing.
i mean, as far as you knew it was absolutely nothing.
but right now, the boys had other things to worry about.
“go to bed right the fuck now” marc says to you and you shake your head.
“i’m not fucking tired” you deadpan back to him.
“please watch your fucking language” steven complains.
“then let me stay up” you argue.
“no i actually agree with marc, and we all had this talk yesterday so please go to bed” steven tries to negotiate to which you ignore him.
marc sighs and hands the control right over to jake, who cracks his neck before making his way towards you.
you were glaring down at your phone until it was snatched from your grip and set down on the coffee table.
it was just then when you realized that you fucked up.
you practically heard jakes eye twitch when you got up and hid behind the couch.
he frustratedly sighs and quickly makes his way around to lift you up from where you were crouched down behind the couch, lifting you up further so that he could carry you to your room over his shoulder.
you were upside down, your phone dangling from your hand as marc laughed at your misery.
steven of course told him to knock it off, but ended up laughing as well.
you kind of just let it happen too, knowing you would’ve ended up being forced to go to bed anyways.
jake set you back down carefully on your bed after getting into your room.
you set your phone down on your nightstand, and proceeded to just blankly stare up at jake until he decided to say something.
“we need to talk” he tells you seriously and you tilt your head as he grabs two of your mirrors, setting them up on your nightstand next to your phone. steven in one and marc in the other.
“we just need to ask you a question, that’s all” steven starts, and it effectively makes your stomach churn in nervousness.
whenever they all got serious like this it never ends well.
it either ends with you crying or you being angry with all three of them.
you didn’t feel like doing either since you felt you were all finally getting along perfectly without too many petty arguments.
plus, none of you have gotten seriously hurt since that one incident where you broke your nose.
and then a few days later you broke their nose.
“khonshu brought something to our attention” marc continues for steven and you sigh, remembering what khonshu had told you last night.
“that son of a bitch had no right to tell you” you speak up and steven shakes his head.
“please watch the language” he states sternly and you nod sheepishly as an apology.
“i know we say that you don’t have to tell us until you’re ready, but we need to know about this one” marc continues and you stare down at your hands.
“it’s just this once, we promise” jake assures you and you take a breath before speaking.
“it was one of the homes i was grateful you didn’t see” you start. “when you saw my memories” you clarify.
“it was before my last one… and there was an incident where my ‘mother’..” you put the last word in air quotes.
“she uhm.. got mad” you blink away tears.
marc could barely watch or listen to you.
he had already gone through enough with his own mother, and just hearing what an old foster mom had done to his little girl was really close to setting him off.
he had a million mixed feelings, he wanted to hide in the headspace, but he also wanted to just be there for you so that he wasn’t alone like he was.
well, he wasn’t really alone, but he had to act like he was.
“what did she do?” jake asks softly and you look up at him through blurry vision.
“she threw a glass bottle at me and.. she pushed me down so she…. so she could cut me with the broken pieces” you choke on your last words, hiding your face in your hands after the reveal.
all three of your dads had different reactions.
all of which included disgust and guilt.
steven felt like he was going to vomit right then and there. you see, this was a bit different than just hitting a kid.
not that it was okay to hit kids- it’s just that the simple words your said made him sick.
she did in fact push you to the ground to cut up your back through your shirt when you were what? 9? 10? you can’t even remember anymore.
you were only with that family for a month.
now jake didn’t have his usual feeling of rage. it was more guilt than anything else.
he should’ve known something was up. that’s what he was there for, to figure things out.
marc was checked out at this point. he had disappeared from the mirror, jake being able to feel him lingering in the back of his head.
they didn’t know what to say, honestly. which was reasonable considering you were too lost in your own head to hear it.
it only took one gentle touch to your shoulder to make you look back up at jake and wipe your tears away.
“i’m sorry princesa. we just had to know this time” he sighs, and you simply nod.
“yeah i was going to have to tell you guys at some point” you shrug.
“will you be okay?” steven asks and you nod again.
“you guys should get sleep too” you start bluntly. “old people need rest too, you know” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood and forget about what you just told them.
“just.. please actually go to sleep tonight” jake tells you and you nod, saying goodnight to all to only get a response from two.
steven had promised to talk to marc as well, assuring you that it wasn’t your fault he disappeared again.
and one more thing- jake mentioned something about the day frank had brought you home.
he told you that you about whoever ‘red’ was, and you weren’t entirely sure what he was talking about.
so when jake closed your door for the night, that was your mission.
to find out who red was.
and of course the first person you call was your boyfriend.
you knew he would have no idea but you just wanted to hear his voice. even if it was just for a second.
your phone only rung twice before he picked up.
“why are you calling so late you’re supposed to be asleep” is the first thing he says to you.
“so are you” you raise an eyebrow at the device, smiling when you hear him laugh.
“no but for real, why are you calling me so late?”
“it’s only nine”
“yeah, well-“
“i’m trying to figure something out” you cut him off, getting to the reason you called him.
“go on” he responds.
“let’s say someone you know has like- a nickname but you don’t know the nickname” you start. “how would- how would you figure out who it was?” you ask and casper takes a minute to respond.
“well it depends on the nickname-“
“it’s ‘red’”
“okay.. so does anyone you know like the color red?”
“i don’t know” you shrug, even though he can’t see you.
“..i’m sorry i don’t really know how to help” casper says sadly.
you just smile. “no it’s okay, i just needed some input. i’ll figure it out” you tell him and you can almost sense him smiling as well.
“so i’ll.. i’ll see you soon then?” he asks and you hum in acknowledgment.
“very soon i hope” you tell him.
“have a good night, y/n. i lo- just get some rest” he adds on quickly while you feel heat rush to your cheeks.
“yeah.. you too” you say before hanging up and staring at your black screen before shoving your face into your pillow and letting out a silent scream.
you got over casper’s little slip up fairly quickly since you still had to find out who exactly ‘red’ was.
your second best bet was someone smart, someone who you knew was good at figuring things out.
and what’s better than the lawyer who gave you his card?
but now you had a problem.
you had to find the card first.
you don’t know why you didn’t just save matt’s number in your phone after you got the card.
well, in your defense he seemed like a creep until he told you why he was looking for you in the first place.
you got off your bed to dig through your pile of sweaters sitting in the corner of your room.
you shuffle from pocket to pocket until you finally find the crumpled card.
you smile as you read it, typing the number in your phone after sitting back down on your bed.
it only rings four times before he answers, expect you were the one who spoke first.
“heyyyyy matt its y/n i need to talk to you” you say quickly and you hear him snort.
“i was wondering when you’d finally call” he replies. “what can i do for you?”
“so i have this friend. his name is frank, and he told me that he has knows a guy called ‘red’ and i’m trying to figure out who it is” you rant and it’s silent for a minute.
“frank castle?” he asks and you make a face.
“you know him?” you question and you hear him chuckle.
“i do. now who do you think ‘red’ is?” you sense a kind of playfulness in his voice, which makes you suspicious.
“well i obviously know them and they know me..” you trail off, really thinking about it.
“and now that i think about it i do know someone who has a red costume”
“it’s not a costume” matt tells you.
“so it’s you?” you ask and you hear him hum to confirm.
“took you long enough” you roll your eyes at his comment.
“so how do you and frank know each other?”
“how do you and frank know each other?” matt shoots back.
“he kinda just showed up. he’s been here in london for like a month” you tell him.
“i’m assuming he didn’t chain you to a roof the first time you met?” he asks and you snort.
“i’m assuming that you did though” you point out.
matt just chuckles again. “it might have” he starts. “well now that you’ve figured it out i’m sure frank already told you the basics?”
“that i can call you whenever i want?“
“something like that” you can sense a smile by his voice. “if you need anything, and i mean anything don’t hesitate to reach out”
“i will. don’t be a stranger, daredevil”
“the only strange one here is you”
you both laugh softly before saying your goodbyes, and once you hang up you decide to finally get some sleep.
and you were just hoping your dads were too.
~~~
third pov
~~~
it wasn’t exactly known to anybody that khonshu listens to everything and anything.
everyone just kind of assumed he was anywhere but where his avatars were when he wasn’t present in the room.
but here he was, about to cast another freaky spell on y/n, jus because of something all his avatars agreed on.
it may not seem like it, but khonshu pays attention to what makes them miserable and what makes them happy.
and they specifically said that they wished they could see y/ns first steps, and hear her first words.
so that’s what khonshu was going to do.
of course he didn’t think it through though, not thinking about if you had to go to work or anything.
he just kind of gets an idea and does it.
so that’s how he ended up in this situation.
a baby no more than 16 months old.
and if khonshu had a heart, it would drop to his stomach, as he could not reverse it.
it was going to be a long 24 hours.
now, he was just planning on dipping right as y/ns dads woke up and found her, but they weren’t awake yet.
it was only 5 in the morning and the now very young y/n was bound to wake up at any moment.
and as if on cue, khonshu flinched at the sound of the baby’s crying, and he heard a thud before footsteps made their way towards the room.
“is there a baby in here? what the hell happened this time?” steven rushes in, khonshu disappearing in time to not be seen.
steven freezes at the sight, since it’s not like everyday he sees a baby in his teenage daughters bed.
with her nowhere to be seen, either.
“steven, amigo doesn’t that look just a bit like y/n?” jake notices so steven carefully steps closer, to which the baby stops crying to look up at him.
“oh jesus” steven starts. “she was pregnant and she didn’t tell us?!” he whisper shouts, and jake scoffs.
“ay ay ay- this has khonshu written all over it” jake mutters while steven continues to freak out.
“she said she was safe- we saw the condoms on the floor. unless she’s been doing it whenever we aren’t home-“
“steven shut up” marc tells him, shaking his head from one of y/ns mirrors.
“no but-“
“take a good look at her” marc refers to the now quiet child laying on the bed.
steven furrows his brows and looks right into the baby’s eyes, seeing as they are the exact same as y/ns.
“oh bollocks, it’s even got her eyes”
if marc could murder steven he would right at this moment.
“you idiot, that is y/n” marc sighs and steven tilts his head until it all clicks.
“ohhhhh” he realizes. “oh. what do we do?” he asks into the mirror, seeing jake shrug.
khonshu was nice enough to provide the needs for y/n next to her on the bed.
like a diaper bag basically.
he wasn’t that cruel.
“you think any of us know?” jake asks rhetorically, and notices that y/n was tearing up again and reaching out for steven.
“guys!?” steven looks for at least a bit of guidance, but receives no help whatsoever.
“just pick her up, she obviously wants you” marc tells steven and he nods.
“right- but she’s so small, what if i drop her?” steven panics and jake scoffs.
“just make sure to support her head. you won’t drop her” he assures him.
steven just carefully picks up the fussing baby slowly, making her stop to just stare up at steven.
“heyyyy darling” steven whispers, slightly rocking y/n from side to side.
“please don’t cry” he pleads with the small girl, to which she lets out a squeaky laugh, and hits steven in the chin with her hand.
he deadpans down at the baby while she continues to lightly smack him.
“aw she likes you” marc teases, making steven roll his eyes.
he walks slowly out of y/ns room, with her still in his arms, and he settles her in his lap after sitting down on the couch.
“at least she’s quiet” jake says, the other two agreeing.
“how long do you think she’s going to be like this?” steven asks.
“how are we supposed to know?” marc shoots back, making steven roll his eyes again.
y/n looks around the room, settling to stare at the laptop on the coffee table in front of her.
steven looks down and notices her line of sight, which reminds him of something.
he used one hand to make sure y/n didn’t fall over, while the other grabbed the laptop and opened it after a few tries.
“what are you doing?” marc asks him.
“you know how school is starting next week?” steven starts. “well i’ve been looking into taking online classes”
“for what? you’re like 50” jake chuckles.
“we are 43, thank you very much” steven responds. “but i’m looking into egyptology. maybe i could be some kind of important historian or something” he shrugs, signing himself up for said online class.
“hey, good for you” marc tells him genuinely, and it was right when steven smiled that y/n started to cry again.
steven shut the computer and set it aside before turning his full attention to y/n.
“nonono, shhhh don’t cry please- i don’t know what i’m doing” steven stands up, rocking the small girl in his arms.
“call layla” is all marc says, and steven does so without a second thought.
he carefully balances the crying y/n in one arm while he searches around for his phone, which only made the baby cry harder.
“please calm down” he whispers, trying to get the child to stop crying.
she was hanging onto stevens shirt with her tiny hands while she cried into his chest.
steven finally managed to spot his phone sitting on one of the many books he had at his desk, so he quickly made his way over there to call layla.
she answered after two rings, and sounded a bit out of breath. “marc?”
“no it’s steven. anyways listen i-“
“wait a second- is that a baby? please tell me you didn’t steal someone’s child” she accuses.
“of course not! we just have another khonshu situation” he explains in short and layla hums to confirm that she knows what he’s talking about.
“i’m so so sorry, but taweret has me doing a small mission right now” layla says regretfully.
steven let’s out a heavy sigh, while trying to think over the sound of y/ns crying.
“hey, doesn’t casper have a little sister? he would be more help than me anyways” layla offers a solution and marc immediately disagrees.
“don’t you dare-“
“oh yes, he does thank you” steven says, to which him and layla say their goodbyes before hanging up.
by now, y/n was growing tired, which meant the crying was only a bit quieter.
“steven i swear to- they are together. romantically” marc says.
“so? if he really likes her than he will help” steven half shrugs, going back into y/ns room to find her phone.
“it feels weird going through her stuff” jake points out.
“but it’s for a good cause. she won’t stop crying” steven murmurs.
“but it’s weird” marc whines, to which steven just scoffs and picks up y/ns phone from off her bed.
“do any of you remember her password?” steven asks and doesn’t receive an answer.
“i don’t know, she changed it a couple weeks ago, it used to be four digits but now it’s six” jake tells them, and they nod.
“well, how are we supposed to figure it out?” marc asks and steven looks around the room for some kind of clue.
y/n was calming down, but still letting out small sobs.
“wait, look over to her nightstand” jake starts. “those are seis letras” he nods over to the small piece of paper sticking out from under the mirror he was looking at steven through.
“okay, so it’s m, s, s, g, j, l” steven reads off as he types in the letters.
“i wonder what those mean” marc voices, and jake stays quiet while thinking about it.
“what if.. it’s our initials?” jake starts. “now hear me out. they are also in the order she met us in”
“oh my god you’re right, she met marc, then me, and then you, jake” steven says and all three of them smile while he finds casper’s contact to call him.
and of course, he picked up after the first ring while y/n was still quietly crying as steven rocked her back and forth.
“hey y/n-“
“not y/n it’s steven. so how- how are you? we need your help” stevens voice cracks at the end of his quick sentence.
it’s quiet for a minute. “..with what..?” casper asks.
“…well.. it’s a bit odd but uhmmm.. y/n is kind of- well she’s-“
“she’s what? what happened?” casper asks again, sounding a bit more stressed and worried than before.
“nonono, she’s fine she’s just very.. small?” steven tries to explain.
“okay- you know khonshu, y/n told you about him, right?”
“yeah”
“so he uhm.. kind of rewinded y/n so that she’s now 16 months old” he tries to make it sound as normal as possible.
“he what? is she okay?”
“yeah, she’s just really fussy and layla told me you were good with kids?”
“i think i am, i took care of my sister when she was a baby”
“that’s great”
there’s an awkward silence for a moment.
“i’ll be over in five”
“fantastic”
casper hangs up, and leaves steven to try and get y/n to stop crying.
he leaves the room to go back to the couch, where y/n stopped crying to just stare up at him with teary eyes.
“see, it’s okay” steven grabs one of the small blankets hanging on the back of the couch, wrapping y/n in a small burrito to keep her warm.
“why did khonshu have to do this? he knows damn well we can’t take care of a baby- we haven’t even thought of it” steven shakes his head.
“well…..” marc starts. “when you two aren’t around me and layla have talked about it”
“really? but you’re not even married anymore” steven replies, making jake snort to cover up a laugh.
“shut up- both of you” marc begins again. “but we have also talked about maybe getting remarried. you know, since we technically already have a kid together”
“true, and we’ll be there for you if and when you do” jake assures him, and right as he’s about to speak again, there’s a rapid knock at the door.
steven gently sets y/n down on the couch, making sure to put a pillow barrier between her and the edge.
he opens the door to see casper, who was looking down and fidgeting with his sleeve.
“so what exactly happened?” casper asks.
steven just sighs before letting him in.
it’s going to be a very long 24 hours.
~~~
casper helped a lot in giving tips on how to calm a rabid child.
it did feel weird seeing his girlfriend like that, it almost felt illegal in a way.
but he did have to leave though, his mom wanted him home after a couple hours.
and now it was marc who was sitting on the couch with y/n in his lap, staring up at him.
“is this what babies do all the time? just sit here and do nothing?” he asks and steven chuckles.
“well obviously, she can’t talk yet i’m guessing. or walk” he answers.
“ooh- try to get her to say something” jake offers and marc takes it into consideration.
“it’s worth a shot, hm?” he starts. “do you think she can hear you guys?” he then asks, receiving two ‘i don’t knows’ from both the other men.
marc just shrugs. “what do i do?” he asks, confused on how he was going to get y/n to say anything.
“hell if i know, mate. she’s just around the age that they would start talking so just have her say something simple” steven starts. “just ask nicely” he adds, and marc scoffs.
“can you tell steven to be quiet?” marc asks the baby, who just laughs.
“hey. well that wasn’t very nice” steven starts. “i meant something like ‘dad’ idiot” he continues, all of them smiling at the thought.
“alright then” marc turns his attention back to y/n. “okay baby, can you say ‘dad’?” marc asks the small child, who just stares up at him.
marc repeats those words a few times until y/n starts to hum along with him as he talks.
“good job, you’re getting there” he praises, continuing to try and convince y/n to say anything.
honestly all the guys missed her annoying voice.
it was the good kind of annoying though, like every time she opened her mouth they never knew what was going to come out.
they loved that about her, it’s was one of their favorite things.
the small girl hummed again before opening her mouth, trying to copy what marc had been telling her to say.
all three of the guys eyes widened, watching and listening intently.
y/n tried babbling the word a few times before she finally got it, while marc held his breath.
and then, she said it.
she said ‘dad’.
and it was technically her first word.
marc, steven, and jake were ecstatic. marc pulled her in close to his chest as she laughed, repeating how proud he was.
but that wasn’t all, she also happened to take her first three steps before falling over and bawling her eyes out again.
jake was fronting when that happened.
he had a genuine smile on his face, even when he was trying to get her to stop crying.
there was an incident though when marc was fronting.
y/n was about to finally fall asleep after being fed, and marc was going to go get some water when y/n reached out for him but ended up hitting him in the ass.
the thing is, y/n still had her spidey strength and knocked marc over.
technically y/n was stronger now.
she had the strength of a teenage girl and a little baby.
let’s just say her dads couldn’t wait until she was back to herself.
they were so underprepared to take care of her like this.
but they would always be prepared any other day.
any other day where she was back to her normal self.
any other day, no matter what she needed or when.
because that’s what dads are for.
~~~
A/N : i finally finished it thank god. it wasn’t too exciting. more plot worthy chapters coming soon
love you :)
~~~
taglist ---
@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @valiantphantomangel @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28 @nevaeh-jasso @lizlil @scarabgrant @luvxxee @certainchildmentality @yikesitskennawrites @alexisabirdie @zlatolait-writes
#moonknight x reader#moon knight show#moon knight series#moon knight#mcu moon knight#moon night#baby scarab#marc spector x reader#marc spector#marc spector x teen!reader#steven grant fluff#steven grant x you#steven with a v#steven#steven grant x teen!reader#jake lockely x you#jake lockley x teen!reader#jake lockley#jake lockely x reader#khonshu x teen!reader#x reader#reader insert#marvel x teen!reader#moon knight x teen!reader#x teen!reader#marvel x platonic reader#x platonic!reader#the mandalorian x teen reader#platonic reader#steven grant
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(AU where Joker never became a villian!
His real name is Jack)
Joker pov.
I felt awfull. I wasn't sick, but lonely. I was having bad toughts again, so I decided to go find Bruce. In the cave of his.
"B-Bruce?"
"what?!" Oh, he was mad. Oh no...
"N-nothing, I-"
"You fucking what?!"
I looked at him and saw anger in him. Propably a failed mission. I was shaking, not knowing his next move.
"Fucking, idiot! I dont have time for you to - just go!"
"B-"
Instead of telling me again he punched me in the face.
I fell on the ground, trying to hold my tears from the punch and shock, but failed.
I could see his anger slowly fading into concern, but I didnt want to stay here in case I do something 'bad' again.
"J, I'm -"
"I'm going out..."
"Now? Jack, it-"
I left to go out. I didnt care if I had my pajamas and bunny slippers on. No, I just wanted to go and leave B, so his anger stops.
'Or, maybe youre the reason he is angry. You should leave and that will make him happy, haha'
"No stop."
'Oh, but am I wrong?'
"Yes!"
'Hmm... such a idiot. Hehahe!
Come on, make some chaos, have fun -'
"I wont. I wont. I wont be like Harley!"
'But Daring, look at yourself! You already are!Hahaha! '
"No!"
"Talking to you're self, again?"
"Huh? Oh I'ts you..."
"Well hello to you too, clown boy." she said and pointed to where I should sit down.
I sat next to Selina and watched her blow a smoke ring.
"You want to smoke?"
"No."
"alright! *blows another smoke ring *So let me guess...Bruce being rude."
I nod.
"Ah! He was mad wasn't he?"
I nod again.
"*sigh*Alright, I know im ussaly mean to you, but I cant stand to see someone who i see as a sibling to me sad. So im going to say this... If Bruce hurts you again, dont be afraid to call me so I can kick his ass."
I give a little laugh
" Thanks, Cats!"
"Ofcurse, Clown!" she gives me a small hug and left.
I get up and decide to slowly go back. Slowly, because I wasn't sure if he is still mad.
No one pov.
From the far away, Batman was watching Catwoman and J. Regret for his actions.
His boyfriend didnt do anything, so why did he do it... again.
He knew J was going home, so he decided to catch him on surprise.
Joker pov.
In one of the streets I heard something abow and behind me.
I turn and look, and see Batsy swinging out of nowhere.
"Batsy!!!" I yell as he grabs me by my waist.
We lend on some kind of roof top.
"J, you alraight?"
"*catching my breath *Dont do that again!"
"Okay, look, Im sorry. For almost giving you a heartattack, but also for taking my anger out on you."
"It's alright..."
Characters from DC
"It really is not."
"B, you have done worse. How about you take me home and I will take it as a real apoligy."
He smiles and grabs me bridal style.
Ah, my tragic hero who is a furry and has anger problems. I still love him.
--
Video -
youtube
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Haikyu Characters Reacting To Their S/O Screaming Back At Them
Aoba Johsai
Read Part Two Here
kyotani Kentaro
-everyone knows kyotani for his anger and how he doesn’t suck up to people so when they found out he was dating someone they had to assume this someone had the ability to put him in his place and right now that’s just what they needed
“ mad dog-chan you can’t do this not right now“ oikawas voice rang through in annoyance
“ yeah we need you to go in “ iwazumis voice sounded tired as if he was exhausted by trying to convince the boy for the past 5 minutes during their halftime (long timeout)
kyotani grunted as he turned from both of his teammates looking to the wall as he sat on the bench
“ coach seriously — we need him and he’s just on the bench doing nothing “
“ he said he’s tired of you guys only calling him in for 5 minutes and then sitting him back out like an animal— that you use to show off and then send outside when company’s gone “
“ well he’s our secret weapon “ oikawa screamed “ that’s literally what you do “
kyotani grumbled as he rolled his eyes at oikawa who huffed as he moved to turn to the bleachers “ oh forget this he’s not even listening to iwa-chan “
“ well you know what to do flatty-kawa “
“ duh you see i’m doing it iwa-chan”
oikawas hand came up in a wave as he moved to the referee whispering to them as they spoke on the speaker their voices crisp sending a chill through kyotani’s spine
“ we need a y/n l/n to come down to Aoba Johsais Bench — A y/n L/n to come down to Aoba Johsais bench “
you stood up smiling widely as you jumped your way through the crowd voice heaven sent as you screamed “ that’s me “
moving through people talking sweetly “ oops — sorry — sorry have to go take care of a loose hothead—whoops—you should really watch where you place that drink “
you hopped down the stairs waving at the team and the referee as you came to a stop in front of kyotani who was even more mad than he was initially
“ babe whats up why are they calling me down here again “ you sighed “ it’s only happened five other times and I thought we got past it “
“ they say that like it’s nothing “ kindaichis voice came out small as he rubbed the back of his head
“ kyotani “ you called confused usually he would answer you by now and comply and go play for a little while just to make you happy so you could go sit down on the bench to watch his game closely
“ uh somethings wrong iwa-chan “
“ yeah somethings off he’s not responding to her this time “
“ kyo what— “
“ if anything he looks like he’s gonna snap “
oikawa laughed at his comment “ yeah right y/n ‘ s too nice he’d feel horrible if he snapped at ‘em —they’d probably cry he wouldn’t do it “
oikawas face dropped as he heard the loud voice ring out inside the gym “ GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME“
you shuddered at his voice “ your even more fucking annoying than that dumbass over there “
your mouth dropped “ all you do is come down here and bother me everytime and I only go in for you — i’m not doing it this time i’m gonna stand my ground”
he screamed “ they use me for those 5 minutes and then toss me out i’m not doing it — like I said i’m sitting right here on this bench and standing my fucking ground “
your face went up in shock as you felt your body flinch at his voice kyotani and the rest of his team immediately feeling bad at what the whole gym just witnessed everyone listening closely feeling sorry for you
Oikawa moved to glare at kyotani as he walked over to wrap his arms around you “ aw y/n-chan it’s ok to cr— “
“ YOU SCREAM AT ME ONE MORE TIME LIKE THAT AND IM GONNA KNOCK YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF WITH THE BAT MY DAD WACKS INTRUDERS AT HIS STORE WITH “ your screams came out louder than his as you stared down at the boy in front of you
“ I don’t care if you go out there and wipe the floor down with fucking towels or scrape it clean with a toothbrush but your going out on that court kentaro“
your voice was stern “ you better be glad they even give you 2 seconds on that court you love so much with your shitty attitude —if it was me i’d make you a bench rider the whole season while you watch shittykawa smirk at you everytime he goes up for a set that you won’t get “ your screams catching the whole gym off gaurd
“ so your gonna go out there and stand your fucking ground on that court “ you mocked him hand pointing from him to the court
Kyotani’s body shaking at your tone “ kentaro “ you spoke his name like a curse as he jolted and race to stand in his position on the court head never turning back to look at you again as you continued
“ You will score everytime you go up for that ball — everytime you hit something or come in contact with it— I want a point on that board do you hear me“
“ yes “
“ kentaro “
“ yes ma’am “
you moved to fix your clothes as you stared at everyone in the crowd “ everytime my boyfriends feet leave that ground you better clap your asses off do you hear me “
everyone shook their heads in a yes motion afraid of you and how such a big yell could come from such a small person
You smiled at the team before you took your seat on the bench near the coach who read off all his plans for kyotani that hed never listened to
“ oh trust me we’ll do that plan “ you said as you shook your head ignoring all the whispers from the males around you
“ do they know the game doesn’t start back up again until 5 minutes from now “ mattsukawas voice came out in concern
“ I —uh I don’t think they care “
“ oikawa what’s wrong with you “ iwazumi turned to see oikawas face made up in a frown as he sulked
“ pretty y/n-chan called me your stupid nickname “
oikawa
-oikawa never liked losing especially when it was to someone younger than him someone he didn’t like so you can imagine his anger when he lost to Karasuno
-no one expected the hallway to erupt in his screams so soon
“ tooru what’s wrong “
“ i’m just a little tired y/n i’m ok “
“ no but you — you look angry “
he took a deep breath as he shook his head in annoyance moving to walk off you standing in front of him stopping his exit
“ ok then if I look angry why the fuck would you stand in front of me “
“ because I “
“ because your fucking annoying that’s what it is “
“ tooru”
“ no don’t baby me y/n I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me I played good and I was amazing obviously I wasn’t if your standing here talking to me in a hallway and not in front of me while I celebrate on the court “
“ it’s ok baby — you can still win a volleyball nat— “
he lost his cool as he screamed looking down on you “ WHEN Y/N WHEN HUH “
he screamed harshly “ it’s over — are you fucking stupid there is no next time shitty kageyama took it there’s no next time for me — fuck we’re— we’re third years “
his voice sounded bloody by his screams that sounded throughout the hallway his team coming in to check and see if everything was ok receiving their answer when they turned the corner to you taking over
“ if I knew you were so fucking stupid I wouldn’t have dated you you were probably the bad luck charm that made me lose my shitty gam—“
“ the only thing that made you lose this game was you asshole “
your voice was laced with venom as you shot at him screaming constantly “ you and your shitty need to keep working endlessly maybe if you didn’t have a hurt knee — oh wait howd you get that “
you pretended to think “ oh I know FROM OVERWORKING YOURSELF “
you pushed a finger to his chest “ when I say your gonna make it to a nationals someday your gonna make it to a nationals someday you don’t doubt me is that clear “
his face was in fear as his mouth opened wide in a o form unable to process an answer
“ is that clear tooru oikawa “ you screamed
the team letting out yes’s for him as he moved to look back at them before he turned to you shaking his head like a puppy whod accidentally peed in the house
“ I need words “
“ y-fuck y—yes y/n — baby I mean ma’am — shit I mean yes baby “
you moved to stand straight as you cracked your neck and let a smile play on your face as you turned away from him walking to the entrance of the gym “ ok — babe I meant to tell you i’m gonna go say good game to kageyama- kun you go to the busses and make them wait for me ok “ you waved at him as you opened the door “ love you “
“ they wouldn’t dare leave ‘em “ kyotani’s voice came out in a laugh
“ fuck leaving them — theyd let ‘em drive“ hanamaki joked with mattsukawa who was screaming in laughter
your body entering the gym and walking over to kageyama who straightened up turning to speak to hinata who stood in fear
“ you speak nothing of what we heard to y/n-senpai“
“ y-yes ka-kageyama “
“ kageyama-kun youve grown up so much I love it“ you said holding your arms out to him speaking like he was a baby
“ h-hi y/n-senpai “
“ DID YOU KILL THE GREAT KING “
#kageyama#kags#kags x reader#hinata headcanons#haikyuu hinata#hinata x reader#hinata shōyō#hq hinata#hinata shoyuo#oikawa tooru#oikawa angst#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa imagine#oikawa fic#oikawa headcanons#oikawa x y/n#oikawa scenarios#iwazumi headcanons#iwazumi x reader#iwazumi hajime#iwazumi hcs#iwazumi imagines#iwazumi scenarios#kyotani kentaro#hq kyotani#kyotani x y/n#kyotani headcanons#kyotani drabble#kyotani angst#kyotani kentaro x y/n
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I Pick the TV Show, Rogers Shuts His Cake-Hole | Bucky x Steve x Reader (Angst, Fluff)
Category: Angst, Fluff
(Suggested) Age: 14+
Trigger Warnings: none, other than the standard explicit language
Ship: Bucky x Steve x Reader
Summary: Steve Snaps At Reader When He’s Stressed, Resulting In Her Being Very Upset
Request: "can u write where steve/bucky is overwhelmed with something and when reader asks to help or is telling them to relax they snap at reader and reader is hurt which makes them feel really bad afterwards. thank you sm. i love ur writings. and this is anon right? is it alright if u dont post my response if its not anon? im sorry. thank you so much. ur blog always pictures great stucky imagines. 💗💗💗"
Contains Spoilers for: N/A
Word Count: 2,488
---
A given, the super-soldier had been on nonstop missions for the last month or so, but she thought she was helping him feel better, not making him feel worse.
“Would you like anything to eat, Stevie? You’ve barely moved all day.” (Y/N)’s voice is small. Quiet.
She’s leaning through the door of his study where he’s sat putting together his mission reports from the last three or four missions he’s been out on.
He shakes his head but doesn’t even turn to look at her.
Sighing, the woman walks further into the room where her boyfriend is slouched over the desk.
“You gotta take a break, Stevie.” She whispers, resting her hands on his shoulders.
She notices the way they tense up, but he still remains silent.
His fingers continue to write up his report on the laptop.
“I’m worried about you, Stevie; talk to me.”
“I’m busy, (Y/N).”
“I know you are, baby, but you’ve gotta look after yourself too.” She attempts, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He pulls away.
The woman furrows her brows.
“Steve, please, you’ve got to-”
“(Y/N), just stop!”
The shout is sudden and it makes her flinch back away from the man as he turns to face her.
“I’m fine, alright?! I don’t need you babying me all the time!”
She doesn’t respond for a second, surprised at her lover’s outburst.
He says nothing more, simply turns back to the laptop and continues typing away.
“Steve, look how stressed you are. Can you please just-”
“STOP! Okay?! Just stop! Leave me the fuck alone while I finish these neverending mission reports. For once in your life can you just understand that not everything is about you?!”
(Y/N) swears that being shot in the heart wouldn’t hurt half as much as the words that just came out of the man’s mouth.
Her mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right words to say, but that hurt.
Is she really that bad? Is that the truth behind all of this? That she’s clingy? Thinks everything is about her? That was never her intention. (Y/N) is well aware of how important being an Avenger is. Hell, she is an Avenger, for Christ’s sakes.
She says nothing more and leaves the room.
She can’t even decide if she feels sad. No. She’s not sad, she’s not angry, she’s not… anything.
Numb.
Naturally, her feet lead her to their room. Steve’s room. They all basically share the super soldier’s abode since they all got together, but right now she doesn’t dare open the door.
Doing a full one-eighty spin, (Y/N) takes herself back to a place she barely touches anymore. Her room.
It’s pretty empty. Most of her clothes are in Steve’s room, in her own walk-in wardrobe. Her bed is perfectly made from the last time she slept in here - maybe a year ago?
The woman walks around her bed and straight onto her bedroom balcony, overlooking the lake at the back of the compound, and stays there. For three-hours. Until Bucky comes looking for her.
He came home from his mission about thirty-minutes ago only to find their shared room of Steve’s empty. He searched just about everywhere, completely clueless.
“FRIDAY, where’s (Y/N) and Steve?” He finally gives in.
“Captain Rogers is in study five, and Agent (L/N) is in her private quarters.”
Now that makes the brunet furrow his brows.
Why would (Y/N) be in her room and not his or Steve’s?
He prioritises finding (Y/N) first, knowing Steve will be writing up mission reports, no doubt.
Despite them being together for over six-years now, he hesitates when reaching for the handle of her bedroom door. Instead, the man opts to knock.
No answer.
“(Y/N)?” Nothing. “Doll, it’s me; can I come in?” Nothing.
Bucky tries the door handle and finds it unlocked, yet still hesitates.
“Baby?” He calls out. Again, nothing.
He’s cautious now. Scared.
Her room looks as untouched as the last time he saw it, which was a few months back when she was after one of her plushies.
“(Y/N)?”
It’s when he feels the chill of the midnight winds ruffle his hair that he realises her balcony doors aren’t fully closed.
Striding straight over, his eyes widen at the sight of his girlfriend curled up in the corner of the outdoor area, crying.
“(Y/N), baby, hey, what’s wrong?!”
Bucky immediately drops to his knees in front of the woman, reaching for her hands and gently tugging them away from her tear-stained face.
“(Y/N), doll, look at me.” His voice is gentle. Soothing.
She does almost instantly but her sadness stays.
“What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”
The fear and sincerity in his voice is enough to prompt the woman to shake her head. Yes, she’s hurting emotionally, but he needs confirmation that she’s not dying.
The woman immediately sees the relief take over his features, but he’s still concerned.
“What’s wrong, doll?”
Her eyes stray away from his, not wanting to tell him what’s got her so upset.
“Hey, no, look at me, baby,” He whispers, hand lightly grasping at her chin to raise her face back up to his. “What’s got you so worked up, (Y/N)?”
Another shake of her head as she tries to escape her lover’s hold.
“Baby, please, you’re scaring me.”
Her face contorts into something close to heartbreak as she wants nothing more than to reassure the man in front of her.
“It’s okay, Buck.”
“It’s not okay! Doll, I haven’t seen you cry since Stevie nearly died on that mission in Ohio like two-years-ago! Talk to me.”
She takes a deep breath and wipes her face of the shedding tears.
“Do you want me to get Stevie?”
The question is innocent and makes sense, but her eyes widen and she shakes her head desperately.
“No! No, please, no.”
That truly makes the super soldier concerned.
“Doll, please can you tell me what’s happened?”
Never in the last eight-years that Bucky and (Y/N) have known each other has she been so reluctant to see Steve.
Another sob escapes her and it’s breaking his heart.
“Baby, please.”
“Steve got mad at me, alright?!” She manages an attempted shout. “I just wanted him to look after himself.”
“What happened? What did Steve do?”
He’s concerned. Massively.
“I was trying to get him to eat; he hasn’t eaten properly in so long. He’s so overworked and he’s hung up on all these mission reports. He told me that not everything was about me - shouted at me; told me to stop.” She’s whimpering and sniffling again now. “Please get him to eat something, James.”
That last sentence is the one that crushes him. She’s upset, yeah, but above all that, she’s still worried about the blond super soldier.
“Come on, baby, let’s go to our room and get into bed, yeah? I’ll go and speak to Stevie.”
Her eyes meet his and she looks scared, but the ocean blue gaze that he returns makes her bound to his every command.
The woman nods.
“Okay.”
“That’s my girl.”
With the help of the Winter Soldier, (Y/N) manages to stand up, letting him lead her out of her private room and into their shared one of Steve’s.
“Here, let’s get you into your PJs, yeah?”
He doesn’t leave room for negotiation as he helps his girlfriend strip out of her casual dress and into one of his oversized t-shirts.
“You get snuggled up in bed, doll. I’m going to go and get Stevie, okay?”
He hates how she looks nervous at the mention of their other lover’s name.
“He loves you more than words can describe, baby girl, I promise you. He shouldn’t have lashed out at you, I’m gonna talk to him, okay?”
A hesitant nod and forced smile is enough for now.
“I’ll be back shortly, I promise.” He leans over and gives the woman a kiss on the lips, leaving her with one of her favourite shows playing on the TV.
“Bucky,” Her choked up voice calls out just before he leaves.
The man turns from his place in the doorway.
“I love you.”
The smile that takes over his expression is contagious.
“I love you too, baby girl. More than anything.”
Despite his reassurance to the woman, he’s pretty damn pissed for a number of reasons about Steve losing his cool with their girl. Reason number one being, how dare he? Reason number two being, he knows better than to overwork, yet here we are.
Bucky doesn’t even knock once he approaches the glass doors of the study where Steve is sat typing away on the laptop.
The blond doesn’t even glance up to see who entered. He barely heard the door open which enrages Bucky further.
The brunet slams the lid of the laptop shut without saying a word, prompting Steve’s head to shoot up, glaring daggers at whoever has interrupted him.
“What the fuck, James?!”
That makes Bucky really get annoyed.
“Are you serious right now, Rogers?”
“I’m in the middle of about seven different mission reports, Buck, I’ve gotta finish them.” The man sighs, going to open the lid of the PC once more, only for Bucky to hold it down. “James, seriously,”
“No. What you need to do is explain to me why our girlfriend has been crying for the last God-knows how many hours?”
That makes Steve snap back to reality.
“What? (Y/N) has been crying? Is she okay?”
Bucky literally rolls his eyes at that.
“Are you fucking serious, Steve?” He repeats, Steve looking confused, expression contorting as he realises that his boyfriend is seriously angry at him.
“Bucky, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
The Winter Soldier’s head lolls back as he groans in frustration.
“You seriously have no idea?” He asks, rhetorically, watching Steve look almost scared. “Do you often shout at your girlfriend and forget it happened?”
Cap’s eyes widen at that, and he visibly gulps.
“What?”
“She came in here to make sure you were looking after yourself, which you weren’t, by the way, and you tell her that not everything is about her?! Are you fucking stupid, Steve?!”
He remembers it all too well in that moment, turning his head down to avoid the frustrated glare of his male lover.
“No. No, you don’t get to look away from me. Look at me.” Bucky demands, watching the blond super soldier reluctantly do so. “I come home from my own exhausting mission, search for (Y/N) for thirty-minutes, and find her crying her God-damn heart out on the balcony of HER room; not our room, Steve, no. Her room.”
Steve’s heart shatters and his eyes widen once more.
(Y/N) hates staying in her room. She’d always be in his or Bucky’s without a doubt.
“I- Buck-”
Bucky shakes his head and stands back upright as Steve is lost for words.
“I’m not mad at you, Steve. I get it, you know? You’ve been overworking for the last month, I know you’re stressed, but fuck, baby, you can’t hurt her like that. Do you know how much my heart fucking shattered when I saw her curled up in the corner of her own God-damn balcony?! It tore me apart. She hasn’t cried since you nearly fuckin-” Bucky chokes on his own word as he walks away from his lover.
“I’m sorry! Buck, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let Fury send me on that many missions, I- I should’ve said no. I’m sorry.” Steve attempts, standing up and following the brunet, turning him around to face him once more.
“It’s not me you need to be apologising to, Stevie.”
Captain America nods and leans up to press a kiss to the man’s lips.
“I’m sorry, James.”
Bucky takes a deep breath and forces a smile.
“I forgive you. Of course I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it, but I swear to God, if you hurt her again…”
Steve is already shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t dream of either of you getting hurt. Where is she?”
“Our room.”
He nods and begins heading toward the woman to which he owes more than he can give.
The door is half ajar when Steve gets there, he slowly opens it to reveal his girlfriend in all her glory, curled up under their Captain America themed duvet - which Sam bought the trio as a joke last Christmas. Her face is clear-as-day red from her earlier upset, and it breaks his heart.
The man knocks gently on the day as if not to startle the poor girl.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He offers a solemn smile when she turns to see who’s there.
He hates the way he can see her hesitation to speak to him as opposed to her usual squeal of his name, arms opening wide to welcome him into her cuddle-fest.
“Hi.” She manages, forcing her own smile.
There’s silence floating between them, the only sound being Jensen Ackles, in his role of Dean Winchester, talking a load of nonsense about pie on the TV that’s streaming Supernatural.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Steve manages, taking a step toward the bed. “Nothing can excuse the way I yelled at you, and I’m so sorry for that, but, sweetheart, trust me when I say I didn’t mean it. I was so stupidly stressed, and I should never have let it get to that point.”
She nods, truly believing his words, but it still hurt.
The blond sits down on the edge of the bed, not daring to cuddle his girlfriend until she’s comfortable.
“I love you so much, (Y/N) (L/N).”
A bigger smile taints her lips at that.
“I love you too, Steven.” Her voice is barely a whisper but he hears it clear as day.
“Can I hold you?”
(Y/N) smiles and shakes her head as if he was being silly.
“You never need to ask permission for that, Stevie. No matter what.”
With another sad smile, he pulls the woman into his arms and holds her tighter than ever before.
“I’m so sorry, my love.”
“I forgive you, but no more missions for a while.” She whispers.
“Yes, boss.”
Bucky’s leaning against the doorframe, watching the interaction. He took a detour to Tony’s office and made sure to give the billionaire a piece of his mind about making sure Fury didn’t have Steve on any missions for a long time.
“Is this the last episode?” The brunet speaks up, stripping himself of his clothes as he enters their room properly.
“Yeah.” (Y/N) nods.
“I still think we should watch Vampire Diaries instead.” Steve chuckles, mirroring Bucky’s actions.
“I pick the TV show, Rogers shuts his cake-hole.” (Y/N) teases, mocking a line from Supernatural and snuggling herself in the middle of the bed, sandwiched between the two super soldiers - where she belongs. “I love you both.”
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
“Love you always, doll.”
TAGS
Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5 | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting | @buckybarnesplumwhore | @mrsstevenbuchananstark | @ynscrazylife | @jessromanoff | @holsj2411 |
Stucky x Reader Only Tag List: polarbearnamedpanda | @marvelous-glims
SFW Only Tag List: @piper-koko-barnes-rogers
#marvel#mcu#Steve Rogers#Captain America#Bucky Barnes#Stucky#Stucky angst#Stucky x Reader#steve x bucky x reader#y/n#reader#romance#angst#fluff#cute#relationship#sam wilson#iron man#tony stark#falcon#mcu x reader
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A Misunderstanding
PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort
WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw
WORD COUNT: 3k
A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)
“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.
But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.
“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”
“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.
“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-”
“But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.
“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.
“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.
“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”
He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.
“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”
He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.
You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?
“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”
“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”
He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.
The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.
He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.
“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”
You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.
~.~.~.~
The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.
Knock knock knock
Was that the door?
Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.
Oh.
“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”
Oh, that bitch.
“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.
“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”
“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.
“W-what?”
“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”
“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”
“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.
“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.
“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”
“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”
“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.
“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.
“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.
“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.
What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.
“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.
~.~.~.~
“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.
“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?
“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.
“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”
What? What are you talking about?
“What?”
“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”
This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.
“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.
You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.
“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.
“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.
“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.
You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.
“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.
“Thank you,” he cries.
taglist: @solar3lunar @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @alpha3113 @awmahleebkg
haikyuu taglist: @pies-writes-and-more @luvrboykento
REQUESTS: OPEN
reblogs are appreciated :))
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#hq#kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsurou x reader#haikyuu x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#haikyuu fluff#kuroo fluff#haikyuu angst#kuroo angst#haikyuu comfort#kuroo comfort#reverse comfort#haikyuu reverse comfort#haikyuu hurt/comfort#kuroo hurt/comfort#haikyuu smut#kuroo smut#kuroo x you#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#kuroo x y/n#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu drabbles#kuroo fanfiction#kuroo headcanons#kuroo drabbles
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⤷ MORE THAN YOU'D BARGAIN FOR
DENJI X READER -> 1.7K
when it comes to a fool blinded by love, it sure hurts to have the short end of the stick
REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> angst, friends with benefits‼️, happy ending bc i'm weak like that, denji not knowing how to process emotions, very loose college!au cos i'm lazy, makima being slightly antagonised because fuck her, mentions of sex but nothing super explicit i don't think
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> thinking about denji's hands. i want to learn how to animate manga panels now so i can do a csm edit. also the writing style got kinda boring im SORRY
HEARTBREAK WAS ALWAYS BOUND TO HAPPEN IN THESE SORT OF RELATIONSHIPS. anyone with a pair of eyes and ears could give a clear answer to the question "who does denji like?" and no matter how much you wanted that answer to change, it would never be you.
even when the blonde boy had been so insistent on his heart belonging to another, he still had urges. so under the influence of one too many bottles of alcohol, it was a fairly easy decision for both of you to fall into bed together. more than once. more than you'd care to admit.
being with denji was nice. he was funny, sweet at times and vulgar during the others, and you found yourself repeating a mantra of don't catch feelings for your friend during your time together. and truth be told, it was hard not to, even when you and denji had finished your business and the topic of conversation always seemed to make its way back to makima.
it left a bitter taste in your mouth when denji acted like nothing had happened between the pair of you in other settings. the bitterness turned sour when you realised that there was no reason for him to have to either, and you cursed yourself when you realised you had done the worst thing possible and gone and fallen for your friend who so clearly wouldn't like you back.
but there were times where you thought that you just might have a chance.
even though your cursed your heart for fluttering and rearing its head each time so willingly at denji's mercy, you couldn't help but take every offhand action of his as a ray of hope. with the way his hands engulfed yours to anchor himself as he thrusted into you, the way his lips left urgent kisses on your lips as you panted beneath him, the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cried out in ecstasy.
and even when you were lying next to each other in his bed, catching your breath. you would turn to look at his face sometimes, only to see him staring at you already with a look in his eyes that could only be described as wistful. but you were a fool to think that you could ever upseat makima in denji's eyes.
false hope could only get you so far.
with his breath tickling the back of your neck and his large hand rubbing patterns into your hip, this false hope really had gotten you somewhere. but all good things must come to an end. words that you dreaded to say weighed heavy on your tongue, but you dragged yourself along, lifting them just enough to feel them escape your lips before you could really stop them.
"denji, what are we?"
you felt the hand that rested on you go still, and the arm that was poised as a pillow for you went rigid. hell, the boy that was holding you so close to his chest had practically stopped breathing, and you felt your eyelids slide shut in a bitter defeat before you heard another word. it's not like you needed them to understand how he felt, anyway.
"we're friends, aren't we?" his tone was so controlled, so even and level and unlike the denji that you knew and, dare you say it, loved. it sent another shot tubneling straight through your heart, and you were glad that you were currently facing away from him. you wouldn't be able to handle seeing the look on his face as all of your tentative hopes were crushed under his heel. all you wanted to do was curl in on yourself and maybe try to cry away the numbness that was invading your body from the chest outward.
you raised a shaking hand to push denji's own off of you, and you felt the mattress underneath you creak as the boy shifted in confusion at your behaviour.
"y/n?"
your kept your back turned to him as you got out of his bed, pulling on your own clothed and scowling in frustration when you couldn't find your shirt anywhere. you were seconds away from letting the first droplets fall, and you did not want to let denji see.
you snagged some random material of a shirt off of the bedroom floor, yanking it over your head and turning to face denji with a face that you hoped wasn't too scrunched from holding back your tears.
"we're not just friends and you fucking know it."
you didn't have time to register his wounded facial expression or the pleading calls of your name that he cast towards your retreating figure, but you grabbed your shoes before leaving his dorm, shutting the door behind you a little too forcefully and storming off back to your own room.
you must look insane, padding along the halls with no shoes as angry tears streaked down your face and you tried your best not to audibly sob. by the time you had made it back to your room your eyes were streaming, and you flopped on your bed with little regard for anything else other than crying your eyes out.
truth be told, after that fateful night and the best cry of your life you felt much better. you knew where you stood, you had your feelings sorted out, and you knew that a little distance would really help you to finally move on from your friend.
now, if only denji would stop calling and texting you like nothing had happened.
you felt like you could scream when you saw a notification from him, asking if you wanted to study for the test that you had next week. you bit back the petty urge to ask him if he wanted to study with you as just friends, instead opting to turn your phone off and bury your face in your pillow once again.
matters of the heart take time, after all.
on denji's end, things weren't looking much better. he brushed off his confusion at your actions and words when you had left so abruptly the other day, only to find himself staring at his ceiling trying to decipher his feelings and what the hell you had meant.
he likes makima. and he has, for a while now. he could count on one hand the amount of times he had interacted with the girl who sat in front of him in the lecture hall, and every time had been met with this strange giddy feeling in his chest. though it was rare, he knew that feeling.
but the one he felt right now was so, so, different. when the door clicked shut behind you, it felt like a piece of him had up and left along with you. the very reason that he had accelerated things so far in your relationship was because of how right things felt with you. the slightest graze of your fingertips across his chest didn't light any fireworks in his mind, but it's like warmth perforated his skin and was injected straight into him from you.
truth be told, that feeling was the most addicting he had ever felt. and when he heard that air of finality right after the door shut behind you, it didn't take long for denji to realise just how cold everything felt without you.
but he still liked makima, right?
that giddy feeling in his chest he got from her was enough to fill the you-shaped hole, right?
you not talking to him wasn't what made his heart hurt, right?
he only realised just how wrong he had it when he talked to makima for the fourth time ever. she had turned in her seat, even smiling at him and asking for a pen, and all that came to mind was how much he missed your smile.
hell, he missed everything. the sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair. the way you fit against him and said his name. and that's when he realised this you-related feeling was.
longing.
there was a knock on your door. and another. you groaned, rolling over to check the time to see that it was three in the morning.
by the time you had cracked your door open you saw a flash of blond hair and a face all-too-familiar, you knew it was too late to slam your door shut. denji's face perked up, and you already knew that you were done for.
he lifted his hand, revealing a pretty albeit crumpled bouquet of flowers. you almost giggled to yourself, guessing that the mastermind of that romantic gesture was most likely denji's roommate aki. but it was appreciated, nonetheless.
"what do you want, denji?" you were painfully aware of just how much of a mess you looked right now- eyes still red around the rim from how many self-pitying tears you had shed over this entire situation.
denji's mouth and opened and closed, and you sighed against your barely open door which still had a chain on it.
"i'm not in the mood, denji."
"no, no, it's just that i wanted to say that i've finally figured out what we are." it appears tgat your friend finally found his voice. you looked him in the eye again, trying not to let the hope in your heart build itself too high. "we're way more than friends, y/n."
you felt any resistance crumble at those words, and the sheepish smile on your face grew.
"so, can i come in?" you smiled at denji, shutting your door to undo the latch before opening it again, wide enough to let him back in to your life. consider him a weakness of yours.
the first thing denji did when he crossed the threshold of your door was wrap his arms around you, dried tears and crumpled flowers and all, and bury his face in your hair. the only words he had to offer was a mumbled i miss you into your skin, and you felt your body melt against him like it had so many times before.
when you finally broke apart, you couldn't help but wonder.
"so, what are the flowers for denji?" the boy before you blushed, his eyes flitting off to the side. he raised a hand to the back of his neck, taking a breath to summon some courage.
"i was hoping... that i could take you out on a date. or be your boyfriend. something like that."
"what?" denji was still bright red, though his eyes were locked onto yours.
"you heard me." you smiled once again, taking a step forwards and effectively closing the distance between you two.
"i would love to."
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Floating Through Space - Harry Styles
a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺
the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!
pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader
warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao
word count: 25.7k
masterlist
This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?
Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.
Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.
“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.
Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.
You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.
“Don’t wear men’s pants.”
“You’d look better in a dress.”
“Why do you look like a guy?”
“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”
Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.
There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.
“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”
“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.
“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.
“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”
“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.
“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.
“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.
“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”
“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”
“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”
“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.
“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.
Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.
“Oi, can I ask for one?”
Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.
“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.
“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.
“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.
“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!
“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”
“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.
“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.
“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.
“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.
“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.
“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”
“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.
“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”
“Not even once,” you shake your head.
“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.
“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.
“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”
“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.
“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”
They stay silent and you know you were right.
“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.
“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”
Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.
Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.
The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.
“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.
“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.
“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.
“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”
“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.
Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.
“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.
You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.
You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.
Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.
“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”
Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.
It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.
Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.
“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.
“Are you home already?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.
You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.
“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.
“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.
“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”
“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”
“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.
“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”
“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.
“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.
“See?” she smiles warmly.
“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”
“Harry Styles.”
You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.
“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”
Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.
“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”
“You and Harry?”
“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.”
“Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.
“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”
“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”
“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”
“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.
Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.
Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.
Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.
“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”
“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.
“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”
One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.
Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.
Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.
Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.
“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.
“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.
“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.
“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.
“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”
“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, thank you. Back at you.”
“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.
The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.
“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.
“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”
You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.
“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.
“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.
“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.
“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”
“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.
“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.
“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.
“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”
“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.
“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”
“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”
“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”
You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”
“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”
“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.”
Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.
“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”
“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.
“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”
“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.
“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”
“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.
“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.
“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”
“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”
You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.
The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.
“I would… love to work on a song with you.”
When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.
You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.
You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.
The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.
“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.
“Yeah, everything went fine.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?
However, Harry can see right through you.
“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.”
“Harry, no need, I—“
“No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.
“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”
“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”
“What?”
“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”
“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.
“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”
It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.
“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.
“You guys still talk?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.
“You miss being with the band?”
“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”
“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.
“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”
You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.
“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”
“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.
“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”
Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.
“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.
“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.
“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.
“Nothing pissed you off lately?”
“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.
“It’s… a long story.”
“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”
Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.
“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”
Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.
“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.
“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.
“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”
“You’re right,” you nod smiling.
The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.
Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.
“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t know how not to stress?”
“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”
“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”
“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”
“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”
“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.
“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”
“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”
“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”
“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”
“Are you gonna smoke?”
“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”
“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”
Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.
You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.
“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”
“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”
“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”
“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”
“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.
“Did he ever stop?”
“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”
You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.
“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.
“What?”
His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.
“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.
You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.
“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.
“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.
“Do you want to go for a swim?”
“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.
“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.
“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.
“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.
“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”
“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.
With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.
When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.
“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.
“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.
Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.
“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.
“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.
“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck. “This feels so nice.”
“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.
“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”
“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.
You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.
“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”
“Which one?”
“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”
You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.
“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”
“What was the name of the song?”
“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”
“Can I ask why you left your parents?”
“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”
The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.
“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”
“No,” you shake your head.
“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”
“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”
“Woah, that sounds really tough.”
“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”
You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.
“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”
“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.
“You could say that,” you nod into the water.
“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.
“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.
“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.
“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.
“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”
“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.
“Damn right,” he smirks.
And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.
The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.
“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.
“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.
“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.
“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”
“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.
The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.
You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.
“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.
“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.
“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.
“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.
“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”
“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.
“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”
You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.
When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.
You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.
The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.
In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.
You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.
Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.
Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.
“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“
“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.
“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.
“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.
“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.
“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.
“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.
“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.
“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.
“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.
“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.
“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.
You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.
As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.
“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.
“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”
“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”
He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.
“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”
“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”
“What did he do this time?”
“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.
“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”
“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”
Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.
“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.
“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”
“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”
“Shoot it.”
“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”
“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.
“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”
“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.
“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.
“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”
An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.
“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.
“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.
“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.
“You’re a fan?”
“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.
“You need to perform it for me.”
“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”
“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”
“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.
You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.
Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx
Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.
“You alright?” Harry softly asks.
“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.
“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”
“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”
From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.
“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”
Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.
“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”
He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.
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“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”
The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.
“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”
“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.
“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.
When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.
“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”
He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.
You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.
Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.
“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.
“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”
“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.
“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.
“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“
You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.
His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.
Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.
Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.
“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.
“Kind of.”
“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”
“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.
“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?
You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.
It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.
Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.
It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.
Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.
Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.
“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.
“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”
“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.
“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”
“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”
“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.
By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.
Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.
“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”
The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.
On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?
Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.
Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.
Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.
Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.
At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.
Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.
“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you want to come over to my place?”
“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.
When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.
Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.
“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.
It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.
He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.
“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.
“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.
“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.
“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.
Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.
Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.
When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.
“Harry, I…”
“We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.
“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”
Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.
“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.
“Yes.”
“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.
You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.
Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.
He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.
With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.
Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.
“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.
“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.
“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.
Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.
“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.
“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.
Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.
“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.
You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.
“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.
He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.
Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.
“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.
Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.
Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.
With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.
“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.
“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.
He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.
“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”
“Are you still friends with them?”
“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”
A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.
“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.
“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.”
“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.
“You like me?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”
“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.
“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.
“You can stay, but you have to behave.”
“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.
You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.
“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.
“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.
“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.
“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.
Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.
“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.
“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.
“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.
“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”
“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”
“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.
“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.
Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.
Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.
Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.
Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?
He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.
Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?
Harry: Is that even a question?!
“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.
“Huh?”
“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”
“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.
“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”
“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.
“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.
“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”
“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”
“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”
“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“
“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.
“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”
“I know,” you chuckle.
“How was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”
“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”
“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”
“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.
“How is the song writing going?”
“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”
“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.
Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.
Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.
Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.
“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.
“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.
“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”
Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.
“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.
“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”
“Always.”
“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”
Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.
“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”
“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”
“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.
“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.
“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.
The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.
“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”
“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.
“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.
“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.
“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.
You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.
“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”
“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.
His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.
“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.
The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.
Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.
“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.
“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”
“I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”
You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.
“Harry! Please!”
“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.
You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.
He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.
“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Mm, good idea.”
Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.
Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.
“About what you said about your parents.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”
“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”
You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.
“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.
“What… would you do if you were in my place?”
Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”
“And what if they don’t?”
“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”
“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.
“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.
Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.
“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.
“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.
Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.
Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.
She attached several articles and you start digging through them.
“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”
“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”
“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”
And then there’s the absolute worst.
“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.
Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.
The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.
You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”
“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.
“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.
An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.
Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.
“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.
“Again?”
“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”
“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”
“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?”
“It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.
“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”
“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”
“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”
“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”
“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”
“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”
“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”
“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.
“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”
“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”
“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.
“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”
“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”
You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.
“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”
He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.
“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.
“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“
“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.
He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.
The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.
The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.
Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.
On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.
You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.
“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”
“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.
“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”
“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”
“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”
“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.
“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”
And with that, you end the call.
Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.
As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.
“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.
“Halo?”
“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.
There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.
You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.
“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”
“Bad bitches have bad days too.”
“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”
“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”
“I told you I’m not doing it!”
“I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”
She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.
-
Hi Taylor!
I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.
I hope to see you soon, take care!
Harry
-
With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.
“He… pulled out for me.”
“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”
“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”
“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”
You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.
“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”
“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”
“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.
You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.
Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.
As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.
“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.
You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.
“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”
“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.
“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.
“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.
“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”
“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”
“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”
“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.
“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.
Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.
“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.
You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.
“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”
“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”
“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”
“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”
“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”
“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“I would love to, if you want me there.”
“I do,” you nod.
“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.
Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet
The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.
Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.
Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.
Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!
Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.
“Hey.”
Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”
“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.
“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”
Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.
You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.
“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.
You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.
“Hi mom, hi dad.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fiction#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reading#harry styles x y/n
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hello love! Can I please request a somewhat spicy sub!chat noir x reader? Maybe where the reader is kinda feeling him up and leaving him hickeys and he’s a purring and moaning mess? Maybe he’s begging her to keep going and who is she to say no to such a sweet baby kitty? If that’s not too much of course😌 tysm
Hello bb ! I hope that this satisfied your sub! Chat needs hehe (i know it satisfied mine so) I really love how this came out and maybe i’m willing on continuing another part from here) Thank you so much for this request ! <3
Pairing: Chat Noir X Reader
Warnings: NSFW, characters are aged up in college here :), swearing.
Tags: Sub!chat, Dry humping, begging.
This is how it all went down.
He saved you from an akumatized villain.
He flirted.
You flirted back.
Then you guys started hooking up.
You didn’t understand why Chat Noir would do this with a civilian but like every other person on this planet, he has his needs.
He would knock in a pattern on your window so you knew it was him and you would let him in, you’d talk for a bit, ask each other about your day until one of you breaks and pushes the other on the bed or against the wall.
He was good in bed.
Very good.
You knew you’d never grow tired of this affair.
To top it all off after you both finished you’d sit in bed and talk about all sorts of things.
Aliens, Conspiracy theories about the media, gossip about people and sometimes he’d even play Mario Kart with you.
There were no strings attached.
You both made it clear from day one. There couldn’t be.
You both didn’t have the time for a relationship, you both didn’t have the energy for one so you simply stuck to the title ‘fuck buddies’ until one of you decides to back out.
This night was different though.
A smile didn’t appear on your face when you hear the familiar knock on your window because you were stuck cussing at your computer screen and rubbing your head in frustration.
You had an essay to explain Shakespeare and his works but for some reason you kept deleting all that you’ve typed because you couldn’t put your thoughts into words.
He knocked again, quickly this time.
“I know you’re there, beautiful.” His voice was muffled through the glass.
You huffed and put your laptop on the bed before stomping to the window.
You opened it and were met by the hero grinning at you.
You, on the other hand, didn’t have a pleased look on your face.
“I’m not in the mood Chat.” You state and were about to close the window again but he held it to stop you from closing it.
“Ma Belle, did I do something wrong?” He asks, a frown on his face.
You shake your head. “No, I just have this stupid essay that I’ve been trying to type out for the past four hours.” You sigh and make your way back to your bed, rubbing your temples.
He follows you inside and closes the window behind him.
“Maybe I can ease your stress for a little bit.” He says, a smirk on his face.
You simply shoot him a glare and he chuckles nervously, putting his hands up in defense.
“Okay. No sex. Got it.” He sits beside you and looks at what you’re typing.
“You know you can leave right? If you’re horny you can go to your other side bitches.” You say as you type away, your eyes glued onto your screen.
Chat purses his lips, like he held himself back from saying something and shook his head.
“Maybe I came here for some company.” He says.
You snort and chuckle. “Yeah right.” You say sarcastically and look at him, but he wasn’t smiling.
You gulp and your smile fades away.
Did he seriously come over because he feels lonely?
His face was leaning closer to your and you were leaning closer too.
No. You had to finish this stupid essay.
“Stop distracting me kitty.” You whisper and kiss his nose quickly before looking back at the screen.
He groans and falls back on the bed, playing with the pillow.
“I can help you if you’re writing about Shakespear, I wro-“ He stops himself from talking and you turn around, quirking your eyebrow at him.
“You wrote an essay like this?” you questioned.
He visibly gulps and shakes his head.
“Do you go to college?” You question further.
He chuckles nervously. “You know I can’t tell you that mon ange.”
You stare at him for a moment before looking back at your screen. You decided not to pry further, he seemed uncomfortable talking about his personal life and you decided to respect his wishes.
Your phone started to ring and you see that it’s your friend from college Marinette.
You pick it up.
“Hey Mari.” You say as you type.
“The deadline has been changed to next week!” She exclaims happily.
You were filled with rage.
“what?” You deadpanned.
“Yeah apparently some students asked to change it because they were having difficulties so he changed it to next week instead of tomorrow morning.”
“I literally asked him to extend the deadline three days ago and he refused. I swear to god I want to kill this son of a bitch” You groan and clutch your fist in anger.
She sighs, “I know girl, but hey at least you’ve got more time on your hands!”
Marinette always tried to be positive when she could and you appreciated that but honestly you needed to vent. “Yeah, thanks for letting me know Mari.”
“No problem! Bonne nuit.”
“Bonne nuit.” You sigh out before you end the call.
You groan out in frustration and shut your laptop.
“What happened?” Chat asks.
You get out of your bed and start to pace around.
“I have been working on this essay for the past four days, knowing very well how stupid it was that the deadline was only five days for a two thousand word essay on fucking Shakespeare and when I ask to extend the deadline, the son of a bitch replies with an angry email saying theres enough time and that im just lazy.” You finally breathe and chat was about to say something but you cut him off.
“But when his privileged French pupil ask him to extend the deadline of course he agrees and you know what, I think it was Adrien fucking Agreste who asked him because hes the fucking pretty model boy who has everybody on their knees for him just because of his high status.” You sit down and without realising you start talking about a different subject.
“Yeah, I get it, everybody wants to fuck the pretty blond guy with money, I would too but at least I don’t look like a thirsty bitch every time he talks to me, some girls in my damn college have literally no chill and I swear to god one day I want to make him my bitch, make him weak for me to show those bitches what i’m capable of.” You were breathing heavily at this point and your face was flushed red.
You always thought Adrien was attractive, everyone did but whenever he talked to you, you responded normally to him unlike other people who constantly laughed at everything he said to try and get in his pants.
He was a good guy but he was too well known for his own good and it made you uninterested in him.
You thought he was out of your league, that’s what those french bitches told you at least.
They belittled you just because you’re foreign - you knew they were just jealous that Adrien was always the one to come up to talk to you unlike them.
That was enough ranting for now.
You look at Chat who was staring at you wide eyed, his cheeks glowing red.
“You don’t need to say anything, it’s just-“ You look down at his body and notice something. “Chat..why are you hard?”
He crosses his legs over the other awkwardly to try and hide it. “W-What are you talking about?”
You stand up and walk over to him and he walks back until he’s pressed against the wall.
“What? You get hard thinking about me making someone weak?” You whisper to him and he looks away from you. “You want me to do the same to you kitty?” You kiss his ear and he shudders, nodding slowly.
Your hand moves down from his chest to his belly and your lips move from his ear to his jaw.
Chat tilts his head back and a frenzy of purrs emerge from his parted lips.
He was aroused, in a state of euphoria even with your small, light touches.
Your hand moved lower until it reached down to the tent he had in his suit.
It was painfully tight for him.
Your fingertips lightly brushed over the bulge and he cussed under his breath.
“Fuck.” He whispered while you continued to touch his clothed erection and lick up his neck.
He kept purring and moaning at the same time. You loved seeing him worked up like this.
Your lips latched on to a certain spot on his neck and you sucked on it harshly, nibbling at it when you got the chance and putting more pressure with your hand against him.
He was a mess, grinding against your hand and breathing heavily.
“Ma Belle – merde,” he couldn’t even speak without stuttering. “I want more, please.” He begs and you look up at him, noticing the red mark on his neck and feeling very pleased with yourself.
“More what, kitty?” You whisper and remove your hand from where it was.
He groans in frustration.
“More – I-I want you to touch me more.” He pleads. “Please.”
You smirk at him and pull him to your bed, pushing him back on the bed and getting on his lap.
Before he could react you put your lips on his and start to grind on top of him.
He moans against your lips and throws his head back, holding onto your hips for support.
You could tell that he wanted to take his clothes off but you wanted him to come right then and there.
Your hips move against his, the friction pleasing you the same, causing you to moan but grin at the worked up blond beneath you.
“Shit, shit I’m close.” He whimpers and closes his eyes, moving his own hips with yours to get more pleasure.
It felt so good but you knew you couldn’t finish with him, maybe you could continue after but your hopes disappeared when you heard the beeping coming from his ring.
“Mon Ange I-“
“Shut up and come for me kitty.” You groan out and quicken your movements causing him to part his lips and hold onto you.
His body shakes and he spews out cuss words in French while he comes undone, thrusting his hips up and whimpering.
You’re both breathing heavily, looking at each other both dazed and tired.
You were about to lean in for another kiss but his ring starts beeping furiously.
You hop off of his lap and watch as he groans while he gets up, uncomfortably moving because of the mess he made between his legs.
“I’m sorry I cant finish you off.” He says, pouting at you.
“It’s okay Chat, I think you’ve done enough today.” You wink at him and he chuckles bashfully.
“Until next time Mon ange!” He says and opens the window.
“Bye Kitty.” You blow him a kiss and with that he’s off.
Maybe you could actually finish yourself off to the thought of him being a mess for you but before you could even do anything, your phone beeps and you see a notification from Adrien Agreste.
“Did you hear that they moved the deadline for the Shakespeare essay? Pissed me off tbh.”
It was like he knew you accused him of something and to top it all off this was the first time he’s ever really texted you.
It was weird but maybe you shouldn’t think much of it.
Right?
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Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!
thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:
Daniela:
ADD/ADHD representation
stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing
and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day
Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”
followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)
hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control
especially when she gets excited
Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice
“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”
“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”
she loves play-fighting with her sisters
Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit
(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)
has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray
and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations
so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea
tactile learner
will just. touch things
“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”
can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her
this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end
her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”
“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.
“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”
Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”
and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.
Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”
Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.
Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.
“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.
The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.
(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)
personal space? never heard of her.
loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.
will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”
Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*
Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*
(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)
Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”
Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”
Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”
it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.
Very Very Scary when mad
turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with
dangerous and violent
much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality
came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.
(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)
when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.
Insane Laugh™️
thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw
she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)
that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER
Bela:
Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl
needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother
INSOMNIAC
this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest
she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)
she has read almost every single book in their giant library
Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all
“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”
because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things
Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”
Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.
Dani, confused as fuck: ....
Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”
Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google
“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”
“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”
“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”
“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”
“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”
she is so quiet
and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves
just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach
even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something
Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....
Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”
refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task
Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.
(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)
Anxiety™️
sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.
overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist
this makes her prone to panic attacks :(
when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters
Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.
how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?
Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.
she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.
a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.
“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.
the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.
large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”
Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”
Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.
“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.
Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”
“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”
“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.
Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”
She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.
(am I projecting again? idk help)
can play the piano
no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano
this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel
she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly
she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf
while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.
“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”
Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”
and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.
*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.
#no seriously i’m having so much fun with this#resident evil#RE8#resident evil 8#resident evil 8: village#re8:v#resident evil headcanons#resident evil village#cassandra dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu headcannon#bela dimitrescu headcannon#daniela dimitrescu headcannon#alcina dimitrescu headcannon#mine#dimitrescu family#dimitrescu daughters
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MC wants to leave
Request from @imamonster456
Summary: After the brothers found out MC was Lilith’s descendant, MC slowly started feeling more like a replacement instead of just being themselves. Loneliness started to consume them, and one day they finally decide to just leave, without consulting any of the brothers before.
Warnings: Angst, cursing
Characters: 7 brothers, GN!MC
THIS WAS GOING TO BE PURELY SHORT HEADCANONS BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU STILL LIKE IT
⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁ ⁎ ⋆ ❃ ⋆ ⁎ ❁
Lucifer
It never crossed his mind that he could be causing you so much pain. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted to do. He hated seeing you hurting for whatever reason, but this time… he couldn’t even notice how much pain and discomfort he was causing you.
A tiny voice at the back of his head started yelling at him in an attempt to make him notice; but it didn’t happen
Not until one night he walked up to your room after you didn’t show up to dinner for the fourth time in that week and he saw you packing up your belongings
Almost scared to ask, he spoke up in an almost broken voice “MC, what’s going on?”
You didn’t answer, and he was taken aback at this. He hesitantly walked up to your figure and tried to reach out to you, freezing when he heard your voice telling him to stop.
“Just stop, Lucifer. Please.”
You sobbed, and he simply stood in his place, looking at you without understanding a single thing
“Did someone hurt you? Did any of my bro-…”
“Cut of the bullshit”
Silence filled the room as you turned around to face him, your reddened eyes staring directly into his
“I will not tolerate being a replacement for Lilith. Lilith this, Lilith that… what about me? Ever since you guys found out I was her descendant you haven’t done anything but treat me as if I was her!”
“MC…”
He wasn’t really sure wether to be angry at you for rising your tone against him, or to be ashamed for being called out on his behaviour
“You were my happy place, Lucifer. I was so happy with you and your brothers… I finally felt like I belonged somewhere, and you do this?”
Silence filled the room, and it was only broken by the sound of your suitcase closing.
Mammon
He was so excited to go to your room to show you how much he had won while gambling, but his plans were shattered the moment he saw Lucifer there too.
And when he noticed you had packed all your belongings? He gulped audibly as confusion took over his body
“O-oi, what’s going on here? Where are ya goin’, human?”
“Please move, Mammon”
“MC?”
He locked his eyes with yours, trying to understand the situation. However, in his mind, there was no reason for you to want to leave them, right?
“Wait, I’m sure whatever the problem is it’s not that important!”
“Not that important…?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. How could they be so cruel?
He remained silent, not quite getting why you were so upset.
“Is it not that important that I stopped being myself to you all? Is it not important that you started treating me so differently ever since you discovered I was her descendant?” Your voice raised it’s tone unconsciously “It feels like I’m dead for you! I’m not Lilith, and I’ll never be, but you can’t seem to get that in your fucking heads!”
Guilt.
That was the only thing Mammon could feel at that moment. He was so excited about having a part of Lilith with them again that he completely forgot about you.
“So please, just let me go, Mammon. I can’t stand living here any longer.”
“No! C’mon MC, we can get over this, right? You don’t have to leave!”
Leviathan
A bit reluctantly, he came out of his room after he heard yelling coming from your room.
He thought it was probably just another stupid fight with Mammon for something he had done.
Oh, how wrong he was.
“I’m not Lilith, and I’ll never be, but you can’t seem to get that in your fucking heads!”
His heart shrunk instantly when he heard those words coming out of your mouth. Soon, and attracted as well by the yelling, the rest of his brothers showed up too.
Gathering all the courage he had in his body, he stepped into the room and spoke up.
“MC, we know that, it’s just-…”
“You know that? You do? Then it’s even worse!.” You laughed, tears starting to form in your eyes. “You know I’m not her, yet you still have even called me by her name. I’ve done nothing but try to help your petty asses to get along and be a real family and this is what I get? I’m tired of this. I hate this.”
Levi shut his mouth. He didn’t expect you to snap against him too, but he deserved it. They all did.
“Do you have any idea about how I’ve been feeling because of you? Do you realize how hurt I am? You replaced me in less than a day! Satan is the only one who hasn’t been a dick!”
Satan
Rage.
Against his brothers, against himself for not stopping them…
He just felt rage.
At that moment, he loathed his brothers, and Lilith too. He loathed them for making their human go through so much pain.
Him being the only one who never had contact with Lilith, of course he was enraged. The MC wanted to leave because their sorry excuses of brothers couldn’t get their shit together and made them feel like they were just a replacement?
Slowly, he walked up to your trembling figure, his arms extended to show you he meant no harm.
Without hesitation, you hugged him tightly and hid your face against his chest, wanting to disappear from the sight of the brothers.
“Are you realizing just now all the harm you’ve caused them?” Satan snarled at them, protecting you in his tight embrace
Asmodeus and Mammon made the attempt to get close to you, but he immediately stopped them. In his eyes, they had no right to want to fix things at this point.
“I hate you… I hate you…” You sobbed against the chest of the fourth born, your words directed to the other six brothers that had broken you while the blond rubbed circles on your back.
Asmodeus
“Darling, we had no idea…”
“EXACTLY!” The sudden yelling made him take a step back.
“You didn’t even notice… that’s exactly the problem…” Your voice cracked, as you finally got the necessary strength to look at them once again, tears streaming down your face.
He lowered his gaze to meet the floor, feeling his own eyes starting to gather tears.
“I’m sorry…”
By now, he had been the only one who actually apologized.
“Take me out of here, Satan, please” your broken voice rang painfully in his ears, and all he wanted to do was hug you and kiss away all the tears
But he knew he fucked up
They all did
They were so happy to have a part of their little sister back with them, they forgot you were… you. That you weren’t really a part of her, nor were a replacement for her.
Beelzebub
Probably, the one that was feeling the worst along with Belphie.
They were the closest with Lilith, so when they found out…
Happiness had blinded them, and now they were paying the price.
He didn’t even talk; he felt like he had no right to do so. And probably it was true.
Maybe he and Belphie were the main culprits of the entire situation.
He deeply appreciated you, how could he do this to you?
“MC…” Your name escaped his lips, and seeing you shake your head just by listening to his voice broke his heart.
“No.”
…
“Don’t even say anything.”
Belphegor
He knew it was his fault.
You had all the right to hate him.
Not only did he kill you, but it was also his fault that everyone in the house started treating you differently
If he hadn’t killed you, would’ve they discovered about you and Lilith?
“And you…” When your gaze landed onto him, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
“You killed me because you missed your sister. Then you learned I was related to her, and suddenly you were so nice to me, even though you never apologized about murdering me?”
He took a step back, trying to hide himself behind Beel.
“I will never forgive you, Belphegor.”
“MC, I…”
“Please, just take me out of here” You sobbed, and Satan helped you without hesitation, leaving the six brothers alone in your room, knowing that it was too late for them to do something to fix things.
#obey me!#obey me! shall we date#om!#om! lucifer#om! mammon#obey me#obey me! mammon#om! leviathan#om! satan#om! asmodeus#om! beelzebub#om! belphegor#om! belphie#om! beel#om! levi#om! fanfic#om! headcanon#obey me! mc#om! mc#om! lilith#obey me! angst#om! angst#obey me! fanfic#obey me! headcanon
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A Favor: Part Seventeen
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows
TW: discussion of SA
***
Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.
Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.
“TV show or movie?�� he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”
“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”
“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.
Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”
“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”
Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.
Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”
“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”
Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.
Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.
“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”
Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”
“For what?”
“This conversation.”
Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”
The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”
She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”
Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.
“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.
“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”
Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”
“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”
“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”
“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.
Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”
Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.
“On New Year’s.”
“And you turned it down?”
“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.
“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.
“The movie?”
“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”
Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”
She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”
Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.
“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”
She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”
“Of course I said no because of you.”
“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”
“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”
“You sound codependent,” she retorts.
He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”
He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.
“Why not?” he demands.
“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”
“Again: why the fuck not?”
So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”
Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”
“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.
“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”
“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”
“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”
“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.
“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.
“How so?” she challenges.
“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”
Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.
“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”
“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”
“I do not,” Nesta defends.
“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”
Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?
“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.
“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.
She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”
That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”
“Forever.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.
He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”
Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”
“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”
The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.
“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”
A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.
“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”
When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”
She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”
Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”
Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”
“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”
She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.
“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”
“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.
“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”
Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”
“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”
“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”
***
Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.
Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.
“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.
Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”
“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”
“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.
“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”
“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.
“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”
“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.
“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.
Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.
“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.
“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.
“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.
Gwyn pales.
“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.
“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”
Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”
She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.
Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”
“But I didn’t do anything—”
She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”
“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”
“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.
Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”
Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”
Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”
“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.
Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.
“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”
But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.
Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”
Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”
“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”
Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”
“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.
***
They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.
Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”
“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.
Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.
Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.
Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”
“Why?” Nesta says.
“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”
“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”
Nesta doesn’t give her form back.
“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”
“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.
Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.
Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”
Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”
“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.
She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.
“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.
But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.
“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.
“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.
“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.
Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”
“But I’m not done yet—”
“Now.”
“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.
Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.
Gwyn makes a face at her back.
“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.
“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.
Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”
She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.
“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”
“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”
Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.
“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?
At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”
“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”
Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”
“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.
But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.
During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.
“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”
Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”
“Just not today?”
Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”
Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.
After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”
Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”
Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.
Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.
Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”
Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”
“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”
The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.
Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.
“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”
Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”
“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”
Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”
Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”
Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”
“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”
“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”
“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”
Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”
“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.
“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.
“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”
They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.
Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.
Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”
“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.
“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.
“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”
“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”
“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”
Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.
“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.
That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.
***
a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era
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