#i haven’t decided what i’m gonna do with the rest of my night LMAO

[frienderbender]

wanted to draw the most obnoxious parents

#i wanna…..talk about them…..i think #i haven’t decided what i’m gonna do with the rest of my night LMAO #but i took a break from fake screenshot drawing to doodle this haha #literally just a bunch of guys au #my art tag #nikki tag (mtl oc)

[vminizzle]

Unplanned night

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : angst, smut

warnings : soft dom!jungkook, jealous!reader (not that jealous tho), argument, teasing, pet names, swearing, sexting?, cybersex?, voyeurism, masturbation, marking, manhandling, praising, slight chocking, penetration, unprotected sex, doggy style, missionary, mirror sex, multiple orgasms (3), overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming. ( lot of words had been repeated sorry 💀 that’s actually embarrassing.) HONESTLY I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS THIS FIC SORRY

words count : 3.8k

A/N : hello hello, i hope you all doing fine. I felt like I haven’t posted in awhile even tho I posted there are a few days ago. well, here a little something I just wrote in my car while waiting for my next course in uni, because I’m introverted and I don’t interact with human irl. I rather stay in my car lmao. THIS is ACTUALLY the messiest thing I’ve ever wrote, but I hope you’ll like it tho, decided to change a bit. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. Love y’all !! -sunny

Heavily unedited!!

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED 🦋

M RATED

"Oh c’mon don’t act like you’re innocent." you rolled your eyes.

"you’re exaggerating." he shook his head exasperated, throwing the keys on the counter.

Jungkook and you just came back home from a dinner with your friends, the evening was going well until one of your old college classmate joined you. She invited herself at your table without any shame.

Not only she was annoying but she was flirting with your husband.

"you flirted back!" you pointed at him as he followed you to the living room.

"now you’re just saying bullshit!" 

"C’mon if I wasn’t there she’d had sit on your lap! I had to put my hand on your thigh to remind her I was here, because she kept on touching you. She’s so fucking touchy and all, it irritated me!"

Jungkook sighed as he watched you stomping back and forth around the glass table.

"Listen, it’s not like that. You know I wouldn’t had let that happen-"

"wow that’s awesome! Should I congratulate you for saying that?" you threw your hands in the air dramatically.

"now, you’re gonna calm the fuck down because you’re getting annoying." he huffed at your behavior.

You stared at him speechless as he let his body drop on the couch.

"so i am annoying now?" you put your hands on your hips looking down at your husband, this one sighing heavily.

"It’s not like th-"

"It’s like what then?"

"You’re overreacting."

"she purposely tripped over you and that disrespectful slut kissed your neck!" you pointed toward his neck.

"that’s the collar of my fucking shirt!" he furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

"still! look at it! her ugly lipstick stained it."

"y/n." he started, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you.

"we’re not gonna argue because of that, are we?" he lifted an eyebrow up expectantly.

"I wouldn’t be arguing with you right now, if you didn’t opened your mouth to defend her." you crossed your arms over your chest angrily.

"what the fuck are you saying this time?! I didn’t even defend her!" he breathed deeply trying to keep his calm.

"you knew damn well she used to have a crush on you when we were in college but you didn’t put her in her place when she started flirting with you! She’s so shameless that she did it in front of me. Let me remind you that you’re married-"

"oh yea, the fuck I am." he rolled his eyes letting his body fall back on the couch again.

"what do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"you don’t get it y/n. I didn’t flirt with her."

"it’s the way you talked to her. You still talked like we were in college. And when she touched you? You didn’t even moved! You let her do what she felt like." your grip on your purse tightening at the thought of it.

"I don’t want to argue with you princess, please let’s not. You probably misunderstood the situation. You know I love you and I wouldn’t flirt with anyone else than you, my wife." you gulped, his words making your heart beat slowly as you started feeling guilty.

But what you’ve seen tonight was just annoying. You just wanted to jump on her and choke her to death for touching your husband. You weren’t really the jealous type but there are limits to respect. And this woman crossed the line.

"but Jungkook, she knows damn well we’re married. Why would she acted like that?"

"maybe she was a bit too tipsy-"

"and again! you’re finding fucking excuses to defend her!" you threw your purse on him angrily, this one catching it midway to not get hit. 

You started walking away to the stairs making Jungkook groaned throwing the purse aside on the glass table annoyed.

"now where are you going?" he asked.

"bedroom. I don’t want to continue fighting with you tonight." you replied dryly.

"argh fuck it!" Jungkook threw his head back frustrated.

Usually, when you came back from a date or dinner with your friends, you both would come home in a good mood - a very good mood. 

Starting with slow little kisses at the front door, clothes on the floor in the living room as you both undress each other impatiently as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom.

But tonight, your plan have been changed.

Earlier, the ride was way too quiet, the atmosphere cold. No holding hands, only your husband stealing glances time to time at your angry figure sat next to him in the car.

Slamming the bedroom’s door and locking it, you made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

You stared into the void, thinking about your husband being close but not so close of you. He was in the house but it felt like he wasn’t here. It felt like he was far, really far away from you.

You didn’t wanted to be mad at him but his behavior got on your nerves. You weren’t even sure if he did something bad or not?

Did he? You hesitated.

Because letting another woman touch your arm and feeling "how strong you got since college" is not the best thing to let happen, right? On top of that, just next to your wife.

You stared at your phone, the screen showing your wallpaper, the beautiful picture of your wedding decorating it.

Suddenly, an idea popped in your mind. You’ve never done that before, but guess there is a first time to everything.

You decided to get on his nerves too. But in a better way. 

Jungkook is the type to get impatient over things he really wants. Things he wants right away if he had the chance to get it.

So teasing him was the best way to drive him mad. And on top of that, you’d get advantage from this little "punishment".

Jungkook grabbed his phone from his back pocket as he heard a notification.

He furrowed his eyebrows confused as he saw your name displayed on the screen.

y/n : [ attachment ] 

His eyes widened when he opened the message making him chock on his own saliva. He stopped breathing for a second, gulping as his eyes stayed glued on his screen.

"is she serious right now?" he pursed his lips not knowing how to feel.

He stood up walking upstairs to the bedroom.

"open the door." he knocked on the bedroom’s door firmly.

"no! I’m not gonna open." you replied calmly.

"I’m asking again. Open that fucking door y/n. I’m not playing." he knocked again impatient.

"I said no." you repeated confidently.

y/n : [ attachment ]

"why are you doing that?" he whined, resting his head on the marble separating you from him.

The "naughty" picture of you making him lose his mind.

Your beautiful body clamped in a black lingerie, sat on the carpeted floor on your knees facing the mirror, left hand cupping your bra covered breast, a small smirk decorating your pretty lips.

y/n : [ attachment ]

Jungkook gulped as he opened the new "punishment" you were "imposing" him.

Sat on the floor completely this time, still facing the big mirror, your left hand was now laying between your parted legs, covering the part where you needed him. 

< your hand would had been much better but I’ll do with what I have. > 

Jungkook bit his bottom lip, the caption making blood rush down there.

"C’mon please. Open the door baby." he asked desperately.

"nope. go away. I won’t open it."

"fuck! you’re really stubborn when you want to."

He groaned going downstairs to the living room disappointed, he sat on the couch thinking about a way to make you open the door before he lose his patience and break it.

Suddenly, his phone rang pushing him out of his thoughts. He immediately grabbed it without any second thought.

[ FaceTime ] 

His thumb reacted faster than his brain as he pressed on the green button. 

"y/n why-"

Jungkook stopped when he saw you.

He closed his eyes shut tight, feeling his pants getting tighter.

You smirked as you stared at your husband’s reaction.

"why are you doing that?" he muttered literally in pain, lowering his head 

"why? hmm.. guess." you pursed your lips.

"I didn’t do anything." 

"if you say so." you shrugged.

"C’mon open the door please." he looked at his phone again, his eyes dark, staring at your half naked body.

You thought for a moment before shaking your head with a playful smile.

"gosh what do you want from me? beg? I’ll do anything you want baby." he whined making you smirk.

"aw you’re so cute when you’re needy." you tilted your head to the side feeling satisfied.

You put your laptop away from your lap, pushing it a bit farther on the bed from you. You sat on your knees, facing the device.

Jungkook stared at the screen, throat getting dry.

"do you like it?" you smiled cutely, referring to the lingerie adorning your body, hand sliding from your chest to your lower stomach.

"so much, you can’t even imagine." he whispered, eyes following your hand down resting on top of your thigh.

He gulped as your other hand went up to play with the strap of the bra.

"the straps are so thin, or is it just me?"

"they’re fine." he breathed out making you hummed.

"what about the panties? lacy, do you like it?" you smirked knowing well that’s what he loves.

His weakness.

"fuck honey stop teasing!" he groaned impatiently.

"shh, calm down." you put a finger on your own lips.

Your fingers hooked in the waistband of the lacy material, pulling it slowly aside showing how stretchy the underwear was.

"It seems so fragile." you said with a fake disappointed voice.

You bent down a little to look closer to the screen, showing a bit more of your cleavage on purpose.

Jungkook’s hand travelled down to his pants, resting it on his confined boner as he watched your own hand sliding down between your legs.

"it feels so good." you said as you drew little circles on your lightly covered clit making Jungkook moan lowly, hand pressing on his bulge.

"fuck." he laid himself more comfortably on the couch, eyes not leaving the screen. 

You closed your eyes as your hand travelled up to cup your breast firmly, your other hand still teasing you, rubbing slowly on your clit.

"take it off princess." he said making you looked at him.

"please."

You weren’t used to it, doing such thing. You tried your best to stay confident but your body was burning from how shy you felt at the moment.

"do it."

Your hands went behind your back, unhooking the bra throwing it on the carpeted floor.

"fuck yes." he started unbuttoning his shirt, getting rid of it as he felt hot.

Jungkook put his phone on the glass table, quickly unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants and boxer down at once.

Taking his device back, his eyes wandered all over your body.

You looked so beautiful. 

Jungkook knew you tried to act nonchalant, sure of what you were doing, so he decided to play along and make you feel more confortable.

"hey look at me.” he said softly.

"touch yourself."

You froze for a few seconds before he talked again.

"C’mon baby touch yourself for me." he said breathlessly as he grabbed his cock pumping it slowly.

"you’re so gorgeous, look how hard I am because of you." he hissed, his thumb teasing himself as he brushed it over the slit.

You opened your mouth, no words coming out when he lowered his phone, showing you what his hand was busy doing.

"take these off too pretty please." he ordered gently, eyes on the black garment covering you from him.

Jungkook always been like that.

Even when you tried to be in control, he always finds a way to take over.

It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you tried to be the one in control but you always end up whining for him to continue. And the way you’re so submissive for him always excited him.

You complied, hooking your fingers into the lacy material dragging it down your legs, discarding it away.

Your husband moaned at the view. The dimmed light enough to show your perfect features. 

"lay down and open your legs for me." his voice low.

You took a deep breath as you laid back on the pillow, parting your legs timidly.

"now touch yourself. show me how you do it. show me how you pleasure yourself."

"Jungkook." you whimpered as your fingers came in contact with your core.

"yes my love?" his hand still stroking his cock slowly, knowing you were lost already to answer him.

You slid two fingers between your glistening lips, teasing your entrance.

"put a finger in." he said between breaths.

Entering a finger slowly inside you, you grabbed on the sheet.

"put another one baby."

You let a breathy moan escaped from your mouth as you inserted another finger.

"good girl." he said eyes sparking at how submissive you were. 

"Imagine it’s my fingers." Jungkook watched with dark eyes as your fingers went in and out of you.

"yours are better." you whined as you went faster.

Jungkook moved his wrist faster too, tightening his fist around him.

"fuck princess you’re so fucking pretty."

You looked toward the laptop, watching as your husband pleasured himself, his eyes closed, mouth ajar, his head leaned back.

You moaned loudly as you rubbed your clit adding stimulation to push you closer to your orgasm.

"keep going baby." Jungkook encouraged you.

You threw your head back into the pillows as you felt it coming.

"Jungkook I’m-"

"Cum for me." he moaned loudly as he came on his hand, some landing on his lower stomach making him swear as he kept on stroking himself.

Your left hand went to play with your hardened nipple, your thumb flicking it.

You started clenching around your fingers as you came, moaning your husband’s name loudly.

"you did well darling." you heard Jungkook praised as you tried to catch your breath.

You stared at the laptop screen, eyes on him, the man staring at you too.

"fuck it." you groaned getting off the bed, grabbing the device and shutting it off.

Jungkook threw his phone away, getting rid of his pants and boxer pooling at his ankles as he rushed to the stairs to go to the bedroom.

You put the laptop on the furniture near the large mirror facing the bed before walking to the door, unlocking it.

Jungkook was about to knock on it when you opened it.

You looked into each other’s eyes, lust fogging each other’s mind.

You suddenly grabbed him by the back of his neck surprising him as you pulled him down on you, enveloping his lips in an eager kiss.

"god I fucking need you." Jungkook parted away pulling you on him, your chest pressed against his muscular one.

He bent down to kiss on your neck softly, sucking on the skin, your hands flat on his chest.

"Jungkook." you breathed hastily making him hummed.

"I want you."

"I knew you couldn’t resist me." he smirked making you look away embarrassed.

"and I can’t resist you either." he grinned lifting your face to look at your flustered face.

"you know I was about to break that fucking door to come make love to you when you sent me those pretty pictures." he grabbed you by your hips, your heart picking up the pace as he backed you to the bed.

"now that I’m here, I’ll take you as much as you can handle." he warned, his gaze a bit too serious.

He pushed you gently on the mattress, hovering over your bare body.

He attached his lips with yours, sucking on your tongue. You kissed him lovingly as your fingers made their to his hair.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip as he detached from the heated kiss.

You felt his hard on pressing against the inside of your thigh making you feel aroused again.

Jungkook stood up, making you support yourself on your elbows, looking at him confused.

"on all fours. right now." he ordered with a too gentle voice for the current situation.

"what!?" you furrowed your eyebrows sitting up.

"I said, on all fours." he repeated approaching your frozen body. 

He lifted you up effortlessly, making you on your knees, hands in front of you as he positioned himself behind you.

"do you need prep or your little cam girl session earlier was enough?" he teased.

"fuck you." you muttered making him laugh.

Jungkook held your hip as he took his cock in his hand, aligning himself at your entrance.

He rubbed the head of it on your glistening lips making you whimpered.

"stop teasing."

"oh darling, you’re started it." he reminded.

"but since I’m way too impatient right now I won’t tease you." he sighed playfully as he moved forward.

"tell me to stop at any moment if it hurts or anything yea?"

"please do something." you pushed your bottom back on him, his hands stilling your hips.

Jungkook penetrated you painfully slow, making you feel every inches of his cock, the little vein on the side stroking against your velvety wall made you feel dizzy already.

You gasped as he started moving, his hands holding firmly on your sides.

"you feel so good around me." he threw his head back, his fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips.

He looked in front of him, his cock twitching inside you at the view, making you clench around him at the sudden feeling.

"fuck!" 

Jungkook hand travelled all along your spine to your hair, pulling you up to him, your back flat against his hard chest. 

He grabbed on your chin, making you looked in front of you.

You moaned as Jungkook hand went to grab your breast, massaging it gently, his finger teasing the erected bud, flicking it over and over, making you lose your mind.

"look at you." he pointed to the infamous mirror facing the bed.

"taking me so well."

His fingertips dancing on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You knitted your eyebrows, mouth ajar as you felt this familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.

"babe I’m close." you whimpered, your hand clasped on his forearm as you started clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Look in the mirror. Look at me when I’m making you feel good darling." he ordered.

His hand travelling up to your neck, fingers around your throat. He applied a light pressure enough to make you overwhelmed.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes as you felt his fingers rubbing on your clit.

"open your eyes pretty." he bit on your earlobe softly, his breath fanning over your neck.

You opened your eyes meeting his lustful ones.

You wanted to look away, his stare making you feel small but he was just so attractive, you couldn’t take your eyes off his face.

Some stands of his long black hair sticked on his sweaty forehead, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, droplets of sweat running down his neck, eyebrows knitted as he concentrated on hitting the spot that could make you see stars.

His beautiful veiny tattooed hand still resting around your neck.

You cried out as you came around him.

Jungkook held your weak body as he felt your thighs trembled from your orgasm, the pleasure too much for you to handle as he kept on snapping his hips into yours.

He suddenly switched position as he laid you on your back.

"fuck! you feel so fucking good! so warm and tight!" your husband moaned as he went faster, his hand grabbing your thigh angling it higher resting it on his waist.

You sobbed as he started sucking softly on your nipple, his wet muscle caressing the hard bud as he licked it, looking up at your face.

"I- i cant-" you chocked a moan when he bent down to bite on the abused skin of your neck.

"I’m so close." he moaned lowly in your ear.

You let a tear roll down your cheek as the overstimulation was getting unbearable.

"too much." you sobbed, head spinning at the pleasure hitting you again.

Your nails buried deep into the flesh of his back, scratching the soft skin as your legs started trembling again.

He groaned as he picked up the pace making the headboard hit the wall.

He put your leg back down as he felt his own orgasm coming.

Jungkook held your hands at each sides of your head before intertwining your fingers together.

"Jungkook!" you tightened your hands around his, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your orgasm washed over you.

Jungkook came inside you after a few strong thrusts, filling you up to the brim, a loud moan of your name passing by his lips.

His body collapsed on top of yours as he stayed inside you.

You breathed heavily, hand going up to caress his back, the other hand going on the back of his head caressing his messy hair.

He left lazy wet kisses on your neck after a few minutes.

"I love you." he whispered, face resting on your chest.

"I love you." you pecked the top of his head softly.

"did I go too hard?" he asked hoping he didn’t do too much, if he didn’t hurt you or push you over your limits.

"no, don’t worry." you reassured him still stroking his scratched back.

He hummed feeling your soft touches caressing over the burning skin, enjoying the warmth of your body under him.

"y/n?" he called quietly making you hum.

"I’m sorry." he lifted his head up to look at you.

"Koo it’s o-"

"no no listen please. I don’t know why you thought all these things. But forget them. You definitely misunderstood. I’ll never do whatever you said earlier. I love you and you only. I’d never flirt with anyone else than you. I’ll never disrespect you in any way. You mean so much for me. I respect you a lot. You’re my wife. The person I love the most. I don’t care about her and I didn’t find excuses to defend her." he explained making you feel guilty again.

"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was so mad and I wasn’t think right I guess. She got on my nerves and I maybe, accused you for doing what you probably didn’t do. I’m sorry." you sighed making you husband shook his head.

"don’t apologize my love." he caressed your cheek before pecking your lips.

"I love you so much Jungkook. You mean so much for me too."

He rolled the both you over, so you're laying on top.

"I love you more, my favorite cam girl." he grinned making you slapped his chest.

"gosh you’re so annoying."

Jungkook laughed, hugging you tightly.

—

a/n : probably a weird way to finish this fic sorry 🥸. Well, I hope it wasn’t that bad. Thank you for reading! I love y’all.

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts suggestive #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook suggestive #bts hard hours #bts hard thoughts #jungkook hard hours #jungkook hard thoughts

[m2ok]

Exhausted

John Price x M!Reader

A/N: Alright alright this is my last Price fic I promise I’ll do a different character next lmao. It’ll probably be Ghost or König and it’ll have a bit more plot :) I think before I write the actual fic I’ll do headcannons of some of the characters just to get some more boys on the roster :P

You couldn’t get the damn man out of your head no matter how hard you tried, you knew it was wrong and you tried desperately to push your feelings aside but it just wasn’t working. So you figured that if you kept yourself preoccupied with work you wouldn’t have to deal with these invasive thoughts.

It was embarrassing, you thought, to lose yourself so deep in a crush like you were a school boy all over again. To be kept awake at night because of a silly little crush on your superior. A crush that you knew couldn’t be reciprocated.

But you were only human, and you could only push yourself so far. What had started as just a little bit of over time had devolved into sleepless nights and poorly prepared meals. Frankly, you were running on empty and you were just about to crash. It was clear to see, but most of the 141 team decided to let you handle it on your own. You were a grown man, they figured you’d take a break soon enough.

Most of the team had let you handle it on your own. Of course with your luck Captain Price had been watching you push yourself to your limit and then right over the edge. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he called you into his office. And it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he told you to take a rest.

“Y/n, you can barely walk a straight line. You need a break”

his voice was firm, unwavering, yet it held that touch of concern and softness. You could’ve sworn you saw something almost akin to gentleness in his eyes, something just for you. But that was just your tired brain playing tricks on you right?

“No…no Price-Captain” you’d correct yourself “really I’m fine, I’m just a little out of it today” it was obviously a lie, one he clearly didn’t believe as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re about ready to fall right over” he nodded towards the wall you were supporting yourself on “you’ve barely been eating, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and your hands are shaking so hard you look like you’re gonna have a caffeine induced heart attack”

You opened your mouth again to refute him, but were quickly stopped as he put a hand up signaling for you to shut it.

“I’m not negotiating, Soldier. It was an order not a request”

And what could you say to that? It’s not like you could argue any further. He noticed the defeated look in your eyes…why were you so insistent on pushing yourself so hard? Why wouldn’t you take a single break? He didn’t know, but he was determined to find out. It had to be something big if you were so upset at being told to take the day off.

“Come on..” he said as he lead you through the door. “I’ll walk you to your room” he figured if he just let you go you’d probably at least try to sneak some paperwork on your way back.

You followed behind him silently, your heart hammering so hard in your chest you were afraid he’d be able to hear it. You’d been avoiding exact scenarios like this one. Where it’s just you two alone. Where you couldn’t help but let your gaze drift to his hand and wander what it would be like if he held yours, held you. Your face flushed red at the thought, and you looked down to try and avoid him seeing it.

It wasn’t long before you got to your room, and you made quick work or opening the door and walking in. Though much to your surprise, Price walked right in after you. You looked at him with a curious gaze as he closed the door

“What? You think I’d trust you not to find something to do in here? I’ve gotta make sure you actually take a break” he’d tsk as he motioned towards your dresser

“You get changed and I’ll go get you some food”

You’d only give him a slow nod, your tired brain trying to understand this situation as you grabbed a pear of plain black sweatpants and a random gray T-shirt. As you began to undo the laces on your boots, Price left the room.

You were fast to change out of your uniform and into the pajamas, slipping the shirt on over your head right as Price walked back in with a tray of food in his hands.

“Isn’t that better?” He’d say off handily as he saw you in your comfy clothes. It seemed as though his eyes stayed on you just a little longer than normal, like they lingered for a few seconds longer before he’d finally look away and set the plate down on a little table.

You, again, didn’t put up much of a fight as you sat down and began to eat. Honestly…you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you started eating. As soon as you took a bite the feeling hit you like a truck, and you were making quick work of cleaning your plate.

“That’s a good lad” he’d say, laying a gentle handle on your shoulder.

You were sure he didn’t think much of it, but god those words had you reeling. It was so simple too, they slipped through his lips so easily and it shouldn’t have this power over you but it did. And suddenly you realized again why you had been working so hard. You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t handle these little touches and soft words of praise when you knew it didn’t mean anything. It may have been dramatic, but it felt worse than the actual torture you’d endured.

You were at your breaking point between these feelings you’d let yourself fall too deep into and the exhausting that wracked your body. His compassion did little to push away what you felt for him, and it only causes to the problem. You were desperate to get him out of your room, anywhere away from you really.

He seemed to take notice of how stiff you had gotten, because of course he did, and the hand that was on your shoulder came to rest on your thigh to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright, y/n?” He’d ask, his brows furrowed in worry as he waited for your answer.

You could only shake your head no at first, turning to look at the man as you shoved his hand off of your thigh.

“I can’t do this” you’d whisper

“Do what?” He’d press, wanting to know what had tipped you to this point.

“This!” You gestured vaguely between the two of you

“Fuck, every moment I have alone I think of you! I don’t know why and-and I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it! God, it’s been eating me alive. These stupid feelings won’t go away no matter how far I push them and-“

You were cut off abruptly as you felt lips on your own. they were chapped and just a little bit uncoordinated like he’d been out of practice for a while. You should’ve pulled away, been a stronger man and stop this, but you couldn’t. Not when it felt so right.

You melted into the kiss, eyes slowly shutting as you reached up to cup his face, his own hands going to rest at your waist. You only pulled away when you both needed air, little pants filling the room from how frenzied it all was.

You looked to him for an answer when you finally caught your breath, eyes blown wide and confused as you stared at the man.

“You were rambling” he whispered at first “And…I feel the same way. Have been for a while now, but I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable incase you didn’t feel the same”

His explanation was simple, right to the point. You were still trying to take everything in, so the straightforward answer seemed to ease you down from that breaking point you were at just seconds. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, the fatigue suddenly overwhelming your body again as you just leaned into him.

You’d rest your head on his shoulder, practically nuzzling into his neck as he held you close. He’d press a soft kiss to your forehead before slowly pulling away to stand you both up, much to your dismay.

“You’re tired, love” the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily it made you swoon, a giddiness suddenly engulfing you as you let him lead you towards the bed.

He’d take his boots off and toss them towards the door before he laid down on the bed, soon grabbing your wrist to yank you down with him.

You couldn’t help but shove yourself into his side, soaking up all the new found warmth and love you could while he wrapped his own arms around you. Your legs entangled together as you pulled the blanket up around your bodies, a content sigh leaving you as he placed a kiss to your forehead.

You knew you had a lot to talk about when you woke up, logistics to work out and decisions to make about how to move forward with this, but for now you just wanted to bask in the coziness that was John Price. And he seemed to want the same as he gave you a little squeeze, before he closed his eyes.

You were quick to follow, tossing your arm around his body as he has yours. Your eyes shut and within moment you were out like a light, your body relaxed and your brain finally quiet for the first time in days.

As always, request as open

#john price x male reader #john price imagine #john price x you #john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain price #cod imagine #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod x male reader #captain price X male reader #cod modern warfare #fanfic #male reader

[blingblandfanfic]

Lup and Barry clone Taako

i've been dabbling in taz fic lately, and i started this and realised i only wanted to write this scene, and thus didn't want to flesh it out further LMAO

one scene isn't enough to post on ao3, but it is enough to post on tumblr ;)

It starts with Lup’s hovering.

Her metaphorical hovering, that is, not her literal hovering. It’s been a month, maybe a bit more since they’ve defeated the Hunger, and on account of being a lich with no legs, she’d have to drift from place to place for all that time.

Taako doesn’t know why she and Barry haven’t made her a new body, but whatever.

To be honest, it takes a while for Taako to even notice her metaphorical hovering, let alone be bothered by it. There’s something about being separated for over a decade that’s made it so that neither of them can be apart for too long without getting panicky about it. But as Taako soaks up sister time, his Lup quota fills up a little bit faster every day until it’s almost back to pre disappearance levels. 

He’d expected it to be the same for Lup, but she’s still clingy. Still hovering. Metaphorically. It’s obvious that there's something she wants to tell him, and he’s never known her to be shy about anything, so he’s waiting for her to spit it out herself. 

One night, when she’s decided to ‘sleep’ in Taako’s bed instead of Barry's, she finally plucks up the courage to ask whatever she wants to ask him.

“Taako. How much do you love me?”

“What do you want?” his eyes are closed, but if they weren’t, they’d be squinting suspiciously. 

“Seriously, babe, just answer the question.”

“You’re my heart, duh,” if this is what she’s been worried about the whole time, then Taako’s gonna be pissed. 

“How would you like to make that literal?”

He finally pulls open an eye to see his sister, floating ominously above him, “and what the fuck do you mean by that?”

If Lup had a face, she would use it to give him a bashful smile. 

“Well… we need like, a lot of DNA samples in order to create a clone, and it was easy for Barry because he always had access to his body but–”

“But your body is dust,” Taako closes his eyes. 

“Hey, we’re already technically clones of each other! We just need to do it manually this time!”

“It’s still fucking freaky, though!” he sits up on his elbows, “I don’t wanna go about my day knowing there’s a version of me growing in a test tube!”

“Then don’t think of the clone as you, dummy, it’ll be my body, I just… won’t be in it, for a while.”

“Oh my god,” he slumps back onto the mattress, “when the fuck did this become our life?”

“I think we were pretty much locked in the moment we got the IPRE acceptance letters,” she floats down to lie on Taako’s body, her not-face propped up by her hands. “Seriously, though, if you really don’t wanna do this, then it’s fine. We’ll figure something else out.”

“Oh yeah, like what? Possess some poor schmuck and spend the rest of your days running from Kravitz? No way, this is the easier option.”

“I have a feeling you’re not fully 100 percent on board with this.”

“Yeah, of course I'm not! Who wants to be cloned? But I’m doing it anyway because you’re my sister, and I want to fucking hug you.”

“God, same,” Lup sighs, “and I want to bang my husband,” she ignores Taako’s retching, “it’s just that we have to be really careful about this, now that me and Barry are working for the Raven Queen and all, we have to make sure this is super duper ethical. Cloning is super light necromancy, and she’s barely willing to let us do it.”

“Fine,” Taako raises his hand, “you have my full unequivocal consent to clone my body and bang your husband with it. I just don’t want to see the fucking thing until you’re in it. Do you need that in writing or what?”

“Actually, yeah. Like I said, the Raven Queen is being super strict about it. Kravitz says we’re lucky she’s letting us do this at all. I guess being the saviors of the universe helped us out there.”

“She also has a big soft spot for Kravitz. She’s like his Mom.”

“Aww, really?”

“He can deny it all he wants, but I know the truth. He blushes like a motherfucker when I bring it up.”

“Ha!” She barks out a laugh and sits up, “I'm definitely gonna bring that up the next time I see him,” she floats off him and makes for the wall– doors are obsolete to a lich– but she pauses, turning back to face him. He can almost imagine her face in the empty darkness that is her hood, a reflection of his own, but far more open and gentle than he’s ever allowed himself to be. “Seriously–”

“Seriously,” he raises his hand, “I'm cool with it. Now can I go the fuck back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” she says, soft, with a hint of a smile, “you can.”

#Taz #the adventure zone #lup #Taako #exclusive content #snippet #taz balance

[meraki-yao]

I just wanted to tell you that I can't wait for you "candies" posts. I, 🤭, actually decided to just tell you anonymously because I might be seen like a crazy person in the replies.😆 But just know that I enjoy reading them because they're so interesting and fun, and yes, I know that it's just Chinese people/fan speculations. I do go outside and touch grass as the people say.☺️

I'm also really interested about the Mary and George post. I just thought it was just about being supportive of each other. I didn't know there could be more "fun" (???) speculations. Oh!!! And also the parallel thing you did, I forgot, I just remember about it mentioning Phil and Dan and JZ. I know you said you don't feel comfortable now to post it but just know that I would like to read it. Not to sound like a creep or crazy person. But it's SO FUCKING INTERESTING! And if this is the only way we get Taylor and Nick "content", then so be it. And it also gets the bad/evil thoughts out of my head when people put Taylor and Nick against each other. And when people say they hate each other.

And even though I sadly don't know Chinese, I've also seen these speculations about these two other pairs. Only on YouTube videos though. But of course, only speculations. So I definitely get what you mean about the whole really great chemistry thing.

Again, interested here. Especially about Taylor, Nick, and RWRB. Of course, take your time and feel comfortable to post it. Again, in the case of Taylor and Nick, I know it's just for fun. 😊

Hi! I'm so sorry it took me a week to reply to you (I'm a bit of a mess irl lmao) but I’m really glad you’re interested and enjoying my candies post! Don’t worry about “seen crazy” especially when you know that this is for fun and just fan speculations, it’s alright!

I just posted the M&G post last night if you haven’t seen it yet! You’re right, the fundamental thing that’s reflected from that is that they’re supportive of each other and close enough to prank and joke around (i.e. Taylor doodling on Nick’s face every chance he gets lol), and the rest… well… let’s just say they’re interesting 😂

I understand what you said about calming you when haters pit the boys against each other. Honestly that’s the main reason I started writing my candies series: if they’re gonna pull all these non-existing strings to show that the boys bate each other, I’ll to the exact opposite and post “evidences” to show that they love each other :D

As for the other two pairs, Dan and Phil are …well, Dan and Phil 😂 I mostly find parallels between TN and JZ, but the reason I’m not comfortable with posting that publicly is because the JZ fandom is quite a mess (if  you recall, I mentioned that Z can’t be seen in public because of a very complicated scheme), I hate to mislead anyone but in order to explain the whole situation that will take me forever and possibly bring a lot of JZ haters that I don’t want to or have the energy to deal with. Maybe someday if I can find a better way to concisely summarize the situation. I’m guessing you already know what ship JZ’s referring to since you mentioned watching proof videos on YouTube?

But yeah! Glad you’re enjoying it and having fun, that’s really all I wish to achieve with my posts hehehe

#anon ask #answered

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

  ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

[hollandsmushroom]

What about doing the same thing to the reader like your last blurb but instead of push ups she's doing squats?

Mother Fucking Squats || T.H.

this is a sequel to Mouth Fucking Pushups(one of your guys' favorites it appears lmao)

Warnings: Smut 18+, mentions of fellatio, explicit descriptions of cunnilingus

Word Count: 1,641

You and Tom often worked out together, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and in fact it was an activity that the both of you enjoyed greatly, loving pushing each other and encouraging each other to do one more rep. There were times that the company had its downfalls, it was when his muscles looked too good underneath his shirt, much like that night a couple weeks ago when you had ended up on the floor beneath him with his dick buried deep in your throat as he did push ups, really the devolution into sex was the only downfall(if you could even call it that).

It was a beautiful Sunday and you and Tom were in your home gym, both dressed in your workout clothing which was alway something so alluring, Tom’s shorts accentuating his thighs and his tight spandex shirt showing every ridge of muscle that you wanted nothing more than to drag your teeth over, to lick the sweet sweat from his body as held his body above yours. Your mind flicking back to that night a couple weeks ago, the thought tempting you to drop your kettle bell and slide beneath Tom once again but he looked so determined, watching himself in the mirrored wall to maintain his proper form, or at least that what you thought Tom was doing, that's what it looked like to you.

In reality, Tom was watching your reflection, the way that the fabric of your legging stretched around your body as you hinged downwards into a squat, drawing your kettle bell up to your chest and letting it strike softly at the valley of your sternum, the only thing that Tom would think about was being the weight against your chest, pressing heated kisses between the mounds of your breasts, your skin sweet under his mouth. He could feel himself getting hard, the temptation for your body to be flush with his overwhelming to a point of no longer being able to fight it, dropping the dumbbell softly on the padded floor and pushing himself up into a standing position, walking over to you on his toes, careful to not make a noise louder than the music that was ringing through the room. The rounds of your ass looked so alluring to his chocolate eyes, the temptation to sink his teeth into the tensed muscle something that he had to actively fight, instead he opted to get in a position much like the one that you had been in a couple weeks ago, placing himself between your spread legs, looking up at your crotch.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?” you asked, stopping your movements, bending over and resting your weight on the ground, looking him in the eye, noticing the devilish glint that danced in his tree ring colored irises.

“Watching the show” his voice was playful but it was clear he was dead serious and had no intention of moving, he was going to stay there and watch how your body moved over his face, the smell of your cunt reaching his nose, enhanced by your exercise heated state, he was loving it.

“You are such a fucking boy” you giggled, returning to your work out, dipping lower so your ass was closer to Tom’s face, temptation getting the better of him as his poked your cheek.

“Correction, I am a boy who fucks” his voice was sultry, the poke turning into a full as grab before you pushed back up to a standing position, your breath having left your chest when Tom grabbed your ass so harshly.

“Are you gonna let me work out or are you gonna distract me” his hand was still on your ass, dipping down with you, following your motions.

“Haven’t decided yet” you didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smiling at you cheekily, his signature smirk that made you weak in the knees, and if you became weak in the knees now you would collapse on his face, maybe that is what he wanted. You continued going along with your squats, thighs tiring slightly as you exerted yourself. It was only about a minute later that Tom gives in, his hand that had stayed on your ass for the past minute gripping in, tugging down at the fabric until your ass was on full show, your movements having ceased as he worked to make you bare.

“Tom” you whimpered as he blew cool air on your bare cunt, dripping already from having watched him work out.

“Mhm, baby” Tom sighed, his hand running up your thigh, the side of his hand nestled in the pit between your inner thigh and your cunt, thumb dipping between your wet folds and softly tracing them, running across the ridges. “So wet,” he stopped, retracting his hand from your pussy and bringing his thumb to his lips, pressing onto his tongue and smearing your arousal across his tongue. “So sweet”

“Fuck Tommy!” your knees were shaking and he hadn't even really touched you yet, his hand was coming back up your leg but it stopped at your knee, breaking the brace you had been held in and forcing you to fall onto your knees, your cunt now hovering directly above his face.

“Reminds me of a couple weeks ago” he spoke purposefully breathy, the air fanning lightly across your hyper sensitive cunt, drawing a long plantiful whimper from your throat, your hands falling between your spread legs and raking their way through Tom’s sweaty curls, tugging from the root. You pulled so harshly his head came off the floor, forcefully burying him in your cunt, a groan escaping from his chest and vibrating through your core, an inadvertent delivery of stimulation to your clit, your back arching and head throwing back in a moan.

“Fuck fuck fuck” the cries of pleasure left your lips rapidly as his tongue snaked past his pleasure coated lips and beginning to lap at your clit, flexing his tongue as it flicked underneath the hood of your clit, savoring the way your body jolted every time he did. His arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling your as close to his face as possible, your lips spreading on his cheeks as he started to rock his head into you. His tongue left your clit, licking a hot stripe from the bundle of nerves to your entrance were he began to circle the clenched hole with his talented muscle, dipping into you and lapping up into you, his head moving with every thrust of his tongue, nose rocking against your engorged clit. It felt like heaven, there was no other way to put the sensation into words, it felt amazing and like pure euphoria.

Tom groaned something into your cunt but he was so deep in you that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, not that you would have been able to fully comprehend it even if you had, you were too lost in the dizzying amounts of pleasure that was running up your spine and winding tight in your belly.

“Oh Tom, fuck oh fuck, Tommy” You cried, your body falling forward and forcing your hands from his hair, bracing yourself on the floor, finger nails leaving crescent in the padding as your gripped into it. Your hips began to inadvertently grind against his face, riding it like you would his cock. The added pressure of your new position shoved his nose harder against your clit, the notch of his incorrectly set bone burning with friction against you as his tongue curled into your g-spot. Your toes curled with pleasure as your head fell forward, looking down to where Tom was buried and the sight of him, he messy hair and the arousal slickening your thighs and his cheeks sent you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you came on Tom’s tongue, hips stuttering against his face as you ceased ability to move, your whole body tensing as a cry of ecstasy left your lips. Tom carried you through your high, not letting up on his movement until you were shaking above him, your thighs quaking around his head as your moans turned to soft whimpers. He raised his hands, gripping your hips gently and pulling you from his face and helping you lay down next to him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you had been doing squats, his face glistening with your cum.

“That was a great post workout snack” Tom mumbled as his fingers dragged across your cheeks, gathering the rest of your cum and arousal on his fingers before pushing them between his lips and sucking them clean, not wanting any of your sweetness to go to waist.

“That was a great workout,” you sighed, your thighs shaking as you curled into his side.

“I'm sure it was, you were really working it against my face, my nose hurts” he joked, raising his hand up and playfully rubbing at it as if it was sore.

“Oh shut up” you groaned, swatting his chest as you buried your face in his neck, hiding from his teasing eyes.

“Hey hey, no none of that, I am just teasing” he mumbled, his fingers catching your chin and pulling your face from hiding, his eyes softened from their previous playful mirth. “I love you” the words came out as a whisper and your heart was pounding, it was not a new phrase to be exchanged between the two of you but it still made you glow to hear him say it.

“I love you too, Tommy” you pecked his lips, tasting hints of yourself in his mouth. You pulled back, your tone shifting to one similar to Tom’s previous teasing one “You give good head, how could I not love you”

♡Taglist♡

@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @spidey-sophie @thehumanistsdiary @itscaminow @marvelsbitch8 @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy @tomhollandlol @roseobx

#tom holland reader #tom holland request #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #tom holland au #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland filth #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagines

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Out of This World

Dave Lizewski x Reader

Fandom: Kick-Ass

Summary: Despite your best efforts to keep him out of it, Kick-Ass winds up involved in something well above his pay grade.

Note: Takes place sometime after Kick-Ass 2, with Dave in college now. Also, I actually really like the OCs I thought up for this? They have kind of a cool dynamic lmao idk.

Warnings: Injury, drug mention, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 3.1k

Reader is: Gender Neutral

It was a somewhat quiet night. Crickets chirping. The occasional car whirring by. Distant chatter. Too quiet, almost.

You listened, your eyes narrowing. You tuned in your senses, listening, listening, listening, until—

“Hey.”

“Aah!” You turned around, coming face to face with none other than Kick-Ass himself, donned in his recently upgraded gear, still accompanied by the green and yellow wetsuit mask he was so well-known for. You nodded. “Kick-Ass.”

“Yeah! Uh, hi. I don’t think we’ve met.” He smiled and you swore you’d never seen eyes more blue. They were clear and vivid despite the darkness surrounding you on the rooftop you were using for cover.

“We haven’t.”

“Right. So, um, what’s your name?”

“I’m Firefly.”

“Firefly. Cool. Cool.” He nodded awkwardly and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you…?”

“Patrolling, yes. You?”

“Yeah, same.” He shrugged, rocking back on his heels and pausing for a long moment before asking, “Are you…waiting for something?”

“Someone, more like it.”

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I think I can handle it.” You said. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Are you sure?”

He was so earnest and genuine that you almost accepted. Until you remembered the context of the situation. Kick-Ass was a powerless, human, and utterly naïve vigilante. Taking him with you would be a death sentence.

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you. Seriously.” You told him, smiling a bit.

He smiled back.

And then you heard tires screeching in the alley below. Your eyes widened and pulse quickened. That was your cue.

“Those are my guys. Catch you around.” You saluted him and then promptly jumped off the roof, causing him to yell and lean over the side of it, watching as you gracefully, and slowly, descended all the way to the ground.

“What…?” He whispered, watching you and the faint glow around you as you safely got to the ground and took off after the van that had raced down the alley. Strange, he decided. Very, very strange…

***

You yawned, the bags beneath your eyes oh, so heavy. And yet, your college classes were relentless and very early in the morning. So, you were sitting in your stats class, scribbling notes in your notebook when the kid next to you started squinting at the board. He was wearing glasses, you noticed, and he had curly brown hair.

“It says 52%.” You whispered to him, sliding your notebook a little closer to him so he could see what you were writing down.

“You have really nice handwriting.” He complimented, writing down what you had in your notes. “Thanks, by the way. I try to sit up closer to the board, but those seats always get taken and I’m always a few minutes late.”

“No problem.” You chuckled.

“I’m Dave, by the way.”

“(Y/N).” You replied.

Your professor, a younger one who was nice, but pretty strict, glanced up at the clock and then looked down at the rest of you. “Well, that’s all we have time for today. I’ll see you all on Wednesday. Remember, we have a quiz on Chapter 4 so make sure you study a bit between now and then. Class dismissed.”

The room started to chatter as the people who knew each other started making plans to meet up and work on the study guide. You stacked your things and started sliding them into your bag, tucking your water bottle into the side pocket.

“Um, (Y/N), do you have any study plans? I’m…well, I’m not doing very well in this class.”

“I was actually gonna hit the library later after my last class. Get some coffee, chill there for a while.” You said, pulling out your phone and opening snapchat. “Do you want to meet up, maybe?”

“Yeah! I’d actually like that a lot! Thanks so much.”

“Of course.” You grinned. The two of you exchanged contact information and went your separate ways.

When your next class, Psychology 201, ended, you shot Dave a snap and headed over to your usual spot in the library, one of the booths against the wall near the coffee place. It was a little noisy, sure, the sound of the coffee grinder constant and loud, but it was much better than the stiff upper levels where you were afraid to so much as even sneeze.

Once you’d claimed your table, you ordered yourself a drink from the counter and then went back to your seat, only to find Dave already there, unpacking his things.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hey. How was your other class?”

“Boring.” You replied with a laugh. “Our teacher put on some documentary and I almost fell asleep. I, uh, had kind of a long night last night…”

“Me too.” He chuckled. In that moment, you noticed just how tired he looked. Just how dark those bags were beneath his blue, blue eyes. He glanced at your cup. “What’s good here? I’ve never ordered anything from this place. I usually go to the one in the quad.”

“I like their chai. It’s good if you like cinnamon.”

“I do.” He grinned and scooted his chair back. “I’ll be right back, then. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

You got out the study guide and your notes and started looking through the problems to see which ones you needed to work on the most. Some of the equations you understood pretty well. Others were a bit confusing. Dave returned not long after, a cup of chai in his hand. He sat back down in his seat and took a sip, smiling after.

“It’s good.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You said, looking up at him. “So, which types of problems are you having the most trouble with?”

“Well, all of them, to be honest. I was never good at math. I’m just taking this class to get the gen ed credit.”

“Oh me too. I was okay at it in high school, but college math sucks, I’ve decided.”

“Agreed.”

The two of you started walking through problems together until things started to make a little more sense. You checked your answers with the ones on Blackboard, and they all checked out, though, so you knew you must be doing something right.

“So what’s your major?” He asked.

“Undecided, so far.” You shrugged. “I’m just trying to get my Gen Eds out of the way right now. You?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” He shook his head. “There’s just nothing I think I’d want to do for the rest of my life, you know? Too many options.”

“I get that. I think it’s good to take some time to figure it out.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your watch chimed and you looked down at it, your eyes widening. There was no way those idiots triggered a distress signal in broad fucking daylight. You were sure it was a malfunction of some kind, and yet, the longer you stared at it, the longer it chimed, meaning only one thing. You had to go.

“Well, that’s my cue. Um, catch you around?” You started to hurriedly pack up your things.

“Yeah, of course! Thanks for the study session, again. I don’t think I would have passed without you.”

You laughed. “Thank me once we get our grades back.”

“Will do.”

And with that, you were gone.

***

When you finally got to the scene, the sun was beginning to set, but they were definitely still there. The Saturn Gang. They were pushing a specific type of drug on the vulnerable population, selling at night clubs and raves. And that would have been fine, had they not been known to give humans…adverse effects to say the least. And the reason?

The drugs weren’t from this planet.

You and your team had been tracking them for a while, doing everything you could to keep those drugs off of the street, but it wasn’t enough. There were always a few that slipped through the cracks.

“What’s going on?” You asked Sol, his golden mask over his eyes and gold accents on his otherwise dark uniform. His looked pretty similar to yours, actually, except the color on your suit was more of a yellow than the metallic material on his. The patch on your chest plate was different as well, yours in the shape of a firefly while his looked like the sun.

“We’re pretty sure we found one of their minor bases. This place definitely isn’t their main hideout, but there’s been a lot of activity here the past few nights.”

“Mmm.” You nodded.

“We also think they have a Lusca.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s what I said,” said Ember, whose uniform had red accents, a little flame embroidered onto his chest. “Nothing we can’t handle, but—”

“It’ll be messy.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“We’re gonna have to shower for a week,” said the leader of your team, a girl who went by the name of Nightlock. Her hair was choppy and short and midnight blue and her uniform didn’t have any accents. It was just all black, as was her mask. Something caught her eye and she stiffened up. “Shit.”

“What?” You asked, following her eyeline.

“Kick-Ass, ten o’clock.”

“Yeah he’s headed right for their front door. What do you want to do about that, Nightlock?” Ember asked.

“Well if he wanders in there, he’s dead. Stupid humans…”

“I’ve got him.” You volunteered. “I met him the other night. I’ll get him out of the way. You guys get inside. Once he gets lost I’ll join you.”

“And let us deal with the Lusca, how generous.” Sol chuckled and shook his head.

“You got a better idea?”

“Firefly, go.” Nightlock commanded and you nodded, quietly hopping down from the roof and landing behind Kick-Ass.

You clamped a hand over his mouth and pulled him around the corner, out of the alley. He struggled in your hold, but your strength far outmatched his. Once you got him far enough away, you turned him and pushed him against a wall so he could see you. Once he could, he stopped struggling.

“Are you trying to get killed?” You hissed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What’s going on? This is part of my usual route.” He insisted, eyes wide. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, kinda. We’re dealing with something. We have it handled, okay?”

“’We’?”

“My…team. I don’t have time to explain. Get away from here, alright?”

“Do you need help?”

“What part of ‘We have it handled’ do you not understand?”

“Right, I’m sorry.”

You noticed how scared he looked, his body trembling in your hold. You released him, your expression softening. “Don’t be. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

He nodded.

Once you were fairly certain he wouldn’t follow after you, you turned and headed towards the side entrance of the building, following after your teammates. It was noisy inside, meaning trouble, most likely, and you were right. Blasters were firing in every direction, beams of light erupting and dissipating, frying angry black char marks into just about every surface and piece of furniture in the warehouse, and in the center of it all, the Lusca, a giant, slithering tentacled beast, wailing and baring its sharp teeth.

One of its large tentacles had Sol by the waist, shaking him around like a rattle. You dodged fire and sprang into action, your fists glowing yellow as you took off from the ground like a bullet. Your energy cut the Lusca’s tentacle clean off and it fell to the ground with a sickly schlorp. You helped untangle Sol from the slimy mess and he nodded gratefully.

You ran across the warehouse, doing your best not to slip and fall on the grimy surface. Nightlock was corner in the back of the room, so, as quickly as you could, you took out her attackers, each of their blasters clattering against the cement.

A few minutes later, it was just the four of you and a dead Lusca.

You all gathered around it, staring at the thing.

“Ew.” You grimaced.

“Yeah.” Sol agreed, absolutely drenched in its disgusting slime.

You heard a clap. And then another. And then another as slowly, one of the Saturn boys, Four, as he was dubbed, due to his set of extra arms, walked into the base, holding Kick-Ass by the scruff of his uniform.

“I see you killed my guard dog. How about I kill yours?” Four asked with a grin.

Kick-Ass had a black eye and a split lip from what you could tell. It was evident he’d been on the wrong end of at least one of Four’s fists.

“He’s not ours.” Nightlock crossed her arms.

“Okay great. Then you wouldn’t mind if I keep him, then?” Four asked with a cruel chuckle. “Always could use some test rats for our latest batch.”

Kick-Ass looked up at you, his limbs limp, his eyes half-lidded. It was hard to see him like that. You wondered if he had stuck around, or maybe he hadn’t been able to get far enough away. When he coughed, a little blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

“That’s not gonna fly either, I’m afraid.” You said, your fists involuntarily lighting themselves with power.

“A fan of his, little Firefly? Your fists deceive you.” Four tsked.

You noticed a patch of dark fabric clinging to Kick-Ass’ stomach. He was bleeding. Shit.

Suddenly, Four collapsed to the ground, as did Kick-Ass, who scrambled into a corner, shaking.

“Took you fucking long enough.” Ember growled at the same time Ultraviolet shimmered into existence over Four’s unconscious body.

“I had an exam, okay?”

“Can we focus, here?” Nightlock called the rest of you back to attention. “Vi, knock him out, too. We’re gonna have to take him back to HQ to get him healed up.”

“Wait…” Kick-Ass protested weakly, trembling slightly. He was scared. That was understandable. You imagined finding out about aliens existing would be pretty jarring. “…What?”

You walked over and kneeled in front of him, checking the damages. As the healer of the team, that would be your responsibility. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Your words seemed to put him a bit at ease and he nodded, surrendering to Ultraviolet’s pheromones.

“Sol, Ember, get Four bound. We should take him in for interrogation.”

“Got it.”

“I’ll grab the samples so Jeff can start synthesis of the antidote when we get back.”

You stared down at Kick-Ass’ unconscious form, moving him as carefully as you could and maneuvering him so he was comfortable in your arms. Well, as comfortable as he could be with his wounds.

Once everyone else was done, the whole team warped to Headquarters, your base of operation. It was, to be frank, a mansion in a satellite orbiting earth. You took Kick-Ass to the med bay and laid him down on the cot. Immediately, the screen started blinking, instructing you to remove his uniform for optimal healing. Shit.

“SOL! EMBER!”

The boys rushed in.

“Thought you might call.” Sol chuckled, he and Ember setting to work, getting him out of his uniform and into a hospital gown instead.

“How bad is it?” You asked, prepping your supplies and opening a new file on your computer, labelling it “Kick-Ass.”

“Bad.” Ember said gravely, his voice quiet.

“Hurry up, (Y/N).”

“On it.” You turned and looked down at him, your eyes widening.

“What?”

“I know him. He’s in my class.” You said, golden glowing sparkles floating around your fingers. You held them over the wound on his abdomen, letting your power and warmth flow into him until the gash fully sealed up. Next, you healed up the giant purple bruises along his hip and thigh, and then, finally, you let your hand hover over his face, watching as the bruising around his eye shrank and the cut in his lip fused back together.

Dave.

You stared at him for a long while, watching as, slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

Shit. That was right. Your powers always seemed to evaporate whatever effect it was that Ultraviolet had on people.

He looked up at you, his eyes half-lidded and a soft smile on his face. “Did I die?”

“No.” Sol said, arms crossed. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Hey! Get out of here.” You batted your arm at them. “Don’t scare him.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re no fun.” Sol rolled his eyes as he and Ember left, leaving you alone in the med bay with Dave.

“How do you feel?”

“Good. Um, fine. Where are we?”

“We’re safe. This is our Headquarters. You took a pretty bad hit.”

He sat up slowly, looking up at you. “That I remember.” He seemed to notice his hair in the corner of his eye and felt his face.

“We had to take off your uniform to heal you up. Sorry about that.” You apologized. “I’ll, uh, even the playing field, though.” You told him. You pulled the yellow wig you wore off, exposing your natural hair instead, and then you pulled the thin black mask from your face.

“(Y/N)?”

“Surprise.” You did jazz hands and chuckled softly. “Funny how that happens, huh?”

“Yeah… funny.” He smiled softly, shaking his head. “That’s so weird.”

“Yep. So uh…”

“You were right. This shit is way above my level. That guy had four arms and that…giant octopus thing was…”

“Yeah, that sure was an alien.” You chuckled. “Sorry you got mixed up in all of it anyway.”

“Me too.” He looked at you for a long time before asking, “So you guys…you all have powers?”

“We do.”

“That’s so fucking cool.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Well, uh, four arms and his squid friend aren’t the only aliens around here?”

His eyes widened and his head fell forward as he stared at you like you had suddenly sprouted a third eye. “You’re an alien?”

“Half.” You amended. “On my mother’s side.”

“Oh. Cool. I’m dreaming, right? This is all some fucked up dream?”

“Unfortunately, no, it is not.” You giggled, looking at the look on his face. “Any other questions?”

“Yeah, actually, uh…” He paused and looked up at you, a look you couldn’t quite recognize on his face. “Why did you save me?”

“Because no one deserves to die like that.” You replied. “And I have to admit, you’re pretty cute.”

He grinned. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I think you’re pretty cute, too.” He chuckled. “So uh…do you think I could take a half-alien out on a date sometime?”

You scrunched your nose. “Yeah, I think you probably could. Besides, now that the Saturn Gang thinks you’re involved in all of this, you’re gonna need some training.” You smirked. “And I can’t think of anyone better to give it to you.”  

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski imagine #kick ass #kick-ass #kick-ass x reader #kick-ass imagine #kick ass x reader #kick ass imagine #x reader #imagine

[watchmegetobsessed]

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it���s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

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#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #jschlatt x reader #technoblade x reaer #wilbur soot x reader #tubbo x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #high school AU #sister reader #platonic #platonic fanfiction #x reader #toxic friends #panic attacks #revenge #tw: swearing #tw: panic attack #tw: homophobia #tw: f slur #tw: d slur #tw: toxic friendship #tw: attempted suicide #tw: bullying

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

[yourmcu]

Birthday

Pairings: The Avengers x  reader

Summary:

It’s your birthday and the team gets creative on how to surprise you, putting their acting skills to the test.

Word count: 2,350

A/n: just a little something because,, well,, it’s my birthday *runs away* also it’s cheesy, hopefully it makes sense lmao

Warnings: uhhh brief mention of explosion? mostly fluff

The Avengers wanted to get creative for your birthday this year. For the few years they've known you they picked up on things about you. One, you paid no mind to your birthday at all and just considered it a normal day like the rest of the 365, Tony took note that you hated parties, at least the really big ones, something that involved only the team would be good.

Okay, you sound like a party pooper, but that isn't the case; it's not a crime to just... not want to have a grand celebration, right? And people singing the 'happy birthday' song to you too while you just sit there in silence. It's awkward, you once told Natasha. It’s also awkward and hard for you to receive presents even though that’s what birthdays are all about, you’re still getting used to it since you knew someone like Tony Stark.

Well, the team think you're an amazing friend and they all treat you like family. They're so glad they met someone like you.

You're immediately called to the conference room on that day. Only to find the team arguing and pointing fingers at one another.

You kinda just slot in, sitting on the chair you usually sit on whenever there's a meeting or mission briefing. Glancing around, you try and find out what they're fighting about.

Security. Suits. Brief mention of Ultron. Rhodey busying himself with phones, probably making a lot of calls. Natasha and Clint talking among themselves, only raising their voice whenever they're included in the conversation which mainly consisted of Tony and Steve arguing.

"Suit up, get the jet ready." Steve dismisses but before he could walk out himself you raise your hand.

"Hey, sorry, I just woke up," you say sheepishly but coolly at the same time. "What happened, is everyone supposed to go? Can I read the file?" Because if this is an Avengers-level threat that required everyone, you'd want to know all about it.

His sharp and expression softens slightly when he looks at you. "No file, I'm afraid. Some of the compound's security protocols have been compromised, someone hacked in." He proceeds to tell you how they particularly had interest in Bruce and Tony's lab so the other rooms were untouched.

Apparently, they took blueprints and materials, maybe a handful of Tony's suits.

But if you think about it, those two carelessly letting the security to their lab loose? Highly unlikely...

You push the thought to the back of your mind and nod when Steve tells you to get ready. Stark tech can be dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Let alone the Iron Man suits.

Fortunately, those things have trackers. Leaving you to wonder again why those idiots don't even try and take them off so they won't tracked?

Sat on the floor of the jet while everyone was strangely quiet but once again you didn't pay any mind, you sharpen a few of your knives. Natasha sat on a stool near you, idly picking her nails. An hour into the flight you furrow your brows and look around.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," Tony states quickly and a matter-of-factly. They all share glances before he continued. "It's the tension. Sorry. My fault."

"It's not your fault, Tony," Bruce starts.

"I'm sorry, to whom were those stolen suits again?" Steve speaks up as well and you could tell it's gonna be a full blown argument again.

"Now hold on just a second-" Tony faces the super soldier to counter.

You merely blink, not expecting a simple question to turn out like this. Clint just glances from the pilot's seat and Natasha almost cracks a smile by the look of your face. If only you knew it was all fake, all planned. But what does she know? You're a spy too, maybe you've figured out what they're up to and decided to play along.

Sad to say you're still oblivious. Maybe the fact that you only slept three hours last night is one case. You wanted nothing more than your bed right now.

Heck, not one of them wished you a happy birthday but you didn't notice at all.

Tuning out their bickering you sit down next to Natasha who's the only one not in the argument.

"I haven't seen Wanda all day," you say and she turns her head to face you. "Or Sam, or Bucky."

"Probably not back from their mission." Natasha answers promptly.

You frown at that. "Steve made this sound like an Avengers-level threat, and it is, shouldn't they be here?"

You don't wait for a response, opening up a globe-shaped hologram that shows where the jet, represented by a blinking dot. Your eyes slightly widen when you see the target location which is one of the places you've been dying to visit your whole life.

Maybe it's just a coincidence. You definitely didn't expect to visit it for the first time on a mission though.

Natasha clears her throat. "Hey, have you read the book I gave you?" She subtly closes the globe up when she catches your attention.

You shake your head bashfully. "You know I'm a slow reader. Give me two months then I'll come back to you." You laugh. Natasha smiles and tells you to take your time. "Have you read the book I gave you?"

"I loved it."

"I knew you would!" You say excitedly and the next few moments you discuss about the specific book. She's just glad you didn't ask any further questions about the location.

--

All of you split up once you reach the base but Rhodey and Bruce stay in the jet as backup. The place reminded you so much of the old Avengers tower, only with darker themes. You're paired with Clint who you follow to the side of the building, with surprisingly no cautiousness. He just... ran in, entrance deserted of guards.

You all had a digital, tech checklist to see what was stolen including all the suit names. So far you've searched two drawers now and still no sign of any agent or guard. But it's weird since the others are clearly doing their part on their floors. Thuds, footsteps and sometimes banging sounds could be heard all around.

“Finally," you mutter when you hear footsteps behind you, spinning around so suddenly to surprise your enemy and take him down with ease. You raise an eyebrow when they don't put up a fight at all.

Clint was in front of a computer when you peek in to one of the rooms but he waves you off. "I'll meet you on the next floor. This'll take a second."

"One suit on the roof!" you hear Steve grunt through your earpiece.

"Remember to remove the arc reactor, that'll shut them down for sure." Bruce reminds through everyone's comms.

You hear Tony let out a noise. "Might have a problem with that, Banner, they're all reprogrammed."

Expecting the man with seven Ph. D's to worry, it only took him a minute to respond back. "It's your tech. I don't believe they could do that completely especially having them for only twelve hours."

"In that case," Tony sighs. "There should be a kill switch under one of their reactors."

"Which one?" Natasha grunts.

The deafening silence from Tony's line explains it.

You fight your way though the thugs which again, don't put up a fight. Sometimes you throw one punch and they're out cold, leading you to believe the intense training Bucky insisted you do worked. The only tough ones were the Iron Man suits themselves.

Ripping out the arc reactors wasn't easy. You had to use all you force. On the second one you encounter it got the upper hand and blasts you through a wall, the impact sending sharp pain to your head and back.

You hear metal thumping of a suit so you get back up and attempt to get your hands on the Iron Man in front of you.

"Hey, hey. Same team. Look," Tony grips on your wrists and lifts his mask up. "You alright?"

“Yeah," you pant, relaxing a bit. "Yeah. One of them got m-"

"We just discovered a bomb, northwest," Clint says. By ‘we’ he means him and Natasha. The redhead speaks right after. “Two and a half minutes. How many suits left, Friday?”

"Only one more suit is fully functional."

You get out of Tony's hold and sprint up the stairs. "I got it."

He smiles to himself. The plan is all coming  to place.

As soon as you enter the room you dodge a blast from the much bulkier Mark XVI. Of course they'd want to make the stealth suit more powerful. You launch yourself towards it, stomping on an arm while trying to dodge blasts from the the other one.

"Y/N! Fifty seconds!" Steve shouts in your earpiece.

You could've just jumped out, leaving the compromised suits here to be blown up but being under pressure made you panic and set your only goal to find the switch.

The suit could still set off a blast from the arc reactor so you couldn't really get your hands on it without losing a freaking arm.

"Get out of there!”

But you didn’t have enough time. So you just curl into a ball against the wall, accepting your fate.

A pop did go off. Loud, but you didn't feel yourself torn into pieces right after. You also heard a bunch of aye’s and oh’s. Redwing whirs by to your head to drop off a birthday hat.

"Happy Birthday!”

Your eyes fly open. Turns out the only thing inside Mark XVI was confetti. Natasha walks over to you to inspect and make sure you're alright.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widen at her, then at everyone. Sam and Bucky were now standing with them, smiling at you amused.

"I think she's in shock.”

“You think?”

Steve glares at Tony with a hint of amusement. "I told you it would be too much."

"Trust me she prefers something like this instead of a big party. Don't you, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?" You take off the hat and clutch it between your hands, appreciating Natasha rubbing your back as you try to collect yourself. "How is none of this real?"

"We basically faked a mission for you." Rhodey says.

You look around all the rubble. "This building, the people, suits-"

"Bought the place," Tony states. "Hired stuntmen, did a few tweaks on the suits...”

"God, why would you do that?" You bury your face in your hands, not knowing if you should be laughing or crying. "I punched those guys!"

"They'll be fine, they signed up for it."

You gently get up and brush off some confetti off your knees.

"But back at the compound... you guys were yelling at each other and during the whole thing you all sounded serious," you point out. "Was that all part of the act?"

Especially when that 'bomb' was about to go off. Steve's panicked voice made you scared for your life, only to know that it was all fake.

They all show signs of agreement, laughing.

"We'd make such great actors." Natasha smirks.

"Alright, the cake isn't going to blow itself." Clint walks up to you with said cake and you meet him halfway.

Everyone gathers around and before they could inhale to sing the stupid song, you cut them off. "You all know I hate to be sung at. Can we just get this over with?"

They all burst out laughing, you giggle in the process, blowing out your candle. You all group hug right after. The laughter makes you miss the sound of faint thunder outside.

"Look who's late." Bruce points out.

"Yes, I got here as soon as I can, my apologies." Thor smiles sheepishly.

Your ears perk up at the all too familiar voice of the god of thunder. Moving everyone of the way, you leap to hug him. "Thor!"

"Happy birthday, dearest Y/N." He grins and pats you on the head. "I'm afraid my - I mean - our gift, is with Loki at the moment."

"Enough with the formality, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Peter rings up Tony to tell him everything's set up at the huge building they rented for your low-key party. Just the Avengers. Peter, Vision and Wanda were in charge of setting things up over there, from decorations and food. Sam and Bucky also helped a bit before they arrived at the fake base.

So you all get into the jet again, this time you look at the windows in awe to see what the city's like. You also asked a bunch of questions on how they pulled something stupid but unique fake mission like that.

Once you've reached your destination, the place was simple yet big enough to fit everyone. Tony really took notes for this year. You didn't like anything too fancy or elegant, and you didn't like huge-ass parties with hundreds of people you've never met before.

Here you're with your family eating, drinking booze and playing games, generally having a good time.

You give the other five Avengers big hugs. Vision's never usually a hugger but for you he made an exception just for today. Everyone was surprised when he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

"Hugging has a lot of good benefits," Vision says when he lets you go. "Astounding, I know. It is recommended eight times a day, hopefully you've already gotten that much."

You giggle at his remark and Wanda rolls her eyes playfully. “Thank you, Vision.”

“Splendid, that means I don’t have to give you one.”

You turn around to see the god of mischief himself carefully hand you a wrapped box. Loki chuckles when you smile at him. “Happiest Birthday.”

“Loki.... you know you and Thor didn’t have to-”

“Thor? That one’s from me. I assure you.”

“Y/N!” You hear Tony call from the other side of the room. “It’s time for presents, little miss. Good lord this looks like Christmas morning.”

-

unfortunatley i am that extra to post a birthday fic woo hoo

#the avengers #avengers #avengers x reader #marvel imagines #tony stark #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bruce banner #thor #loki #james rhodes #vision #wanda maximoff #peter parker #sam wilson #bucky barnes #clint barton #tony stark x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #bruce banner x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #peter parker x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #iron man #black widow #captain america

[strawberry-jammers]

child reader (Pt.4)

tommy x child!reader || whys he here??

someone comes to the tundra to fight the blade (also some cute fluff)

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4 pt5

masterlist

this took so long lmao, part 5 coming soon

This story will diverge from the cannon. Since i cant remember it well im just gonna do my own thing.

------

The three of them, techno tommy and little (y/n), lived together peacefully for a bit. Techno and tommy would occasionally spar and commit minor terrorism, while (y/n) got to play with tommy and uncle techno. 

(y/n) has grown a bit sense they had arrived there, being a happy kid like they should be.

On calm nights, techno would read to the little kid, stories of gods who ruled over the lands. Stories of himself in his times of adventure. They enjoyed all his stories, for they held a sort of unreachable curiosity that they loved oh so much.

“Im not reading you a story.” techno says. Sitting in his usual arm chair. He had come back from the nether not long before, just wanting to rest after a long day of fighting withers. He didnt expect the kid to want to hang out with him. “Pwease uncle tech!” they said. He shook his head. “I said no.” (y/n) huffed, getting off the arm of the chair, walking to the pile of books that stood in the coroner of the room. 

They looked through it, trying to find the one they wanted. Once they did, they let out a happy ‘aha!’ and stumbled to the grumpy piglin, book in hand. “This one this one! Pleaaaase!!” they said. Showing techno the book. He examined it, realizing that it was the story about himself that philza had given to him as a joke gift. His eyes widened. ‘Why would the brat wanna read about me?’ he pondered. He just sighed, gently grabbing the book from the small hands it was being held in. “Fine, fine, I'll read you the story.” 

(y/n) smiled, climbing up to sit on the piglins lap, wanting to try and read the book along with him. He huffed, not really agreeing to them sitting on him. None the less he opened the book, reading the unfinished tale to the child sitting before him.

“Once centuries ago, there was a young lad cursed to hear ungodly voices…”

Those were nights (y/n) enjoyed the most. They couldn't read, but having techno read to them was much better than reading a book all alone.

On most days Tommy would play with (y/n) outside. Neither of them got bored of the snow, being used to the sunny weather that was logstedshire. It was a nice change of pace that (y/n) enjoyed. 

The two of them usually had snow ball fights, or tried to build towers and mini houses out of the snow. Tommy would build them snowmen, ones that looked like the people they knew. Others were sometimes ones they hadn't seen before, that Tommy would tell stories of when they would go to bed.

“Papa look!” tommy turned to his kid, who was happily standing next to a snow version of himself. It was small and barely looked like himself, but he easily recognized it. He came up to the small child, picking them up happily. “That's me!? It's amazing little (f/i)! You did so well!!” he said, ruffling the young ones hair. They giggled at the action. 

“Wanna see mine?” (y/n) nodded. He walked over to the snowman he had built, showing them to his kid.

They looked familiar, (y/n) thought. These were the people in the storys (y/n) was told, the man with words of wisdom and guitar playing skills that calmed every citizen, who had tragically died in their last battle. The boy who was by papas side, who loved bees and everyone he knew. The young baker who had a kind heart and a smile that could put anyone at ease. Jack manifold.

Tommy spemnt a very long time creating this, purely so he could show (y/n) his old friends at least once. “Whos that one??” (y/n) asked, pointing to the the fox looking one, standing tall next to the leader, wilbur. “That's fundy. He didn't do much in the war, but he was an amazing fighter, and also a furry.`` Tommy replied, setting the child down. They ran up to the snowman. “Furry furry furry!!” they chanted, making the young boy laugh. “Yes furry!”

Most days now were spent with all three of them playing games inside till the late hours. After (y/n) had gotten sick from being outside so much, Tommy decided to just stay inside the warm cabin. They would bug techno alot, but he enjoyed the company some days. It was better than staying inside alone with an enderman who didn't really like him.

Today however, was different. For they had an unexpecting visitor who was very friendly. 

--

Techno was making breakfast, as usual. He had learned that if he didnt, neither of the innits would eat till dinner when their bodys couldn't handle it anymore. It wasn't good for a young baby like that. Not that techno cared tho.

He was putting the dirty pots and pans in the sink, knowing he'd try and force Tommy to do it later. He started to put the food onto plates when he heard shouting coming from outside. "TECHNOBLADE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!!!" 

Techno stops for a second. No one could possibly have the balls to fight him, let alone twice. Technoblade put the stuff in his hands down, walking over to the window to try and see who was out there. As he thought, it was none other than Quackity trying to pick a fight with him once more. 

"I CAN SEE YOU PIGMAN! COME OUT HERE AND GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!!" The duck man was actually prepared this time, with enchanted netherite armor and an axe to go with it. It seemed he upped his game sense last time. 

Techno chuckled, going upstairs to grab his things real fast. There's no way someone can try and beat technoblade like that. He came back down to see Quackity opening his door. "Heh!? Why are you inside my house!?" Quackity stood there, axe gripped tightly. Techno reached the floor, grabbing his sword. "Why can't I be in your house techno? Hiding something?" 

Ah shit he's onto us

Kill him

Haha he looks funny

Techno shook his head. "Just thought you'd play fair duck man. That's what you government people love to try and do." Quackity stepped forward. "Why would I play fair with the man whos supposed to be dead? This has been a long time coming," Quackity readied his axe, "get ready blade, cause i'm finally killing you." Techno readied his sword as well. "I'd like to see you try." 

Just as they said this, someone came up from the floorboards. "*yawn* techno are you done with breakfast yet- HOLY FUCK QUACKITY!?" a tired Tommy says, holding a nearly sleeping (y/n). The two men turn to Tommy, seeing him and his child. "Oh? So this is what you were hiding. Haven't seen you sense the exile!" Quackity says, getting closer. Tommy got up from the ladder, shrinking behind technoblade, trying to protect his kid. 

"What are you doing here big q?" Tommy says, hiding his kid. “I could ask you the same thing. What's that you've got there? Technos kid or something?” 

“Well no-” “quackity leave them alone.” techno cuts off tommy, moving more so in front of him. He cant let the baby die, he knows phil would pumble him if he does. “This is between you and me quackity. Leave them alone.” quackity shook his head, pointing his axe at tommy. “Anyone alined with you is an enemy of mine. Even if he's an old friend.” quackity lunged at techno, who blocked the attack swiftly. Quackity tried to get around the man, so he could grab the child from tommys arms. (y/n) was now awake however, and they weren't very happy.

“Papa?” they ask, realizing there was an axe lunging towards them. Quackity got around the blade, and was already trying to get to them. Tommy noticed the axe coming their way, completely ready to take the hit for his kid. 

Techno blocked the attack however. “Tommy get them to safety! I can handle this.” tommy nodded, running as quackity and techno dueld. Wuackity tried to run after tommy, but techno blocked him. “Not interesting enough for you q?” he smirks, swinging his sword at the duck man. Quackity blocks, scolding. “You're really full of yourself aren't you?”

Tommy ran outside, running to the only place he knew big q wouldn't find them, (y/n)s old hut. He ran and ran for so long, it had reached past mid day when he reached the small home he had made so many months prier. He sighed, closing the door behind him. (y/n) had long since woken up, and was very agitated. They had not eaten yet and it's been hours. “Shit shit sorry (y/n).'' Tommy says, laying the child in their old bed. He looked around the old home for anything he had left behind. He found some stuff, but he still had to go out to get food. 

When he was done, he quickly fed the crying child. “I'm sorry kiddo, I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think quackity would wanna harm you. Sh shhh im sorry.” he picks up the crying child, kinda like how they first met. A crying (y/n) and a terrified tommy. 

“Pappa- '' Tommy cuts them off, shushing them. “Just rest, Just rest…” the kid nodded, calming down slightly.

The two of them stayed like that till the sun rose the next day.

The next day Tommy got a message on his communicator by techno. Apparently quackity had won the fight, having threatened to chase after them and kill them. Techno begrudgingly went to get executed a second time. Thankfully he lived however, thanks to ranboo and tubbo stopping it. The two of them were currently at the blades house. 

Tommy didnt wanna deal with seeing tubbo, but he knew he couldn't stay out here for more than an hour. He sighed. “Hey (y/n), how would you like it if you might get to meet new friends?” (y/n) looked at him, smiling. “Yeah new friends!!” he smiled, picking up the excited child. “Let's go back to uncle technos!” “uncle techy!!!” Tommy and (y/n) laughed. Tommy got ready and left for the tundra.

Hopefully tubbo wouldn't be there when he got there.

#tommyinnit x child reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x y/n #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #x reader #child reader

[football-writing]

Jack Grealish - real smooth

Note: I haven't seen the david and liza vid that this request was based on, and I have the attention span of fresh gravy so I didn't watch it either lmao. But I had a bit of an idea in mind for this more like Mason's fifa forfeit vid with Chunkz (let's be honest that vid was hilarious I still watch it sometimes for laughs lmao) anyway I hope that's okay. Also this features other players too bc why not

Warnings: contains some curse words probably, slight mentions of sexy times at the end, also I have no idea how waxing actually works as my only knowledge comes from that Mason vid so,, this is probably not accurate sorry xoxo

Hope you enjoy babes x

It wasn't unusual for Jack to invite some of his friends over whenever he had a day off. In fact, his days off were usually spend either with you or with his friends, most often opting for eating out with you before getting back and playing fifa with the boys for well past midnight. Today was no different. You had occupied yourself with a book and and cup of tea in your shared bedroom, while Jack was downstairs with his friends playing fifa. Their yelling and laughter could be heard even from behind the closed bedroom door. Not that it bothered you too much: as long as they were having fun and cleaning up after themselves once they left, it was fine by you.

However, it surprised you to hear footsteps coming up to the stairs, then down the hallway to your room. They had everything they needed downstairs, and never before had they bothered you upstairs, so why would they now?

A knock sounded on your bedroom door and you yelled out a quick 'yeah' as you closed your book and sat up on the bed, curious as to what it was they needed.

"Hey angel." Jack said as his head popped through the door before making his way into your bedroom, sitting down defeatedly onto the edge of your bed. He had a slight pout on his face, and bit his bottom lip nervously as he looked at you.

"What's wrong, baby? Please tell me you didn't break anything down there." You said, a stern look plastered on your face.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. It's just- uhm." He hesitated as he looked down, playing with the hem of his shirt instead of maintaining eye contact with you. Worry took over your features. What was he up to now?

"We were playing fifa forfeit, right. And Ben said I had to wax my legs if I lost-"

"Oh my god, Jack!" A releaved sigh left her lips. It was never gonna be anything serious with these boys anyway. She should've known better. "Did you lose, though? Please tell me you did."

He only nodded in response, and she let out a squeel as she fell back on the bed.

"That's hilarious, I was worried there for a second, but this is great."

"Don't get too excited. The boys asked if I'd ask you if you had any wax. But I just came up here to chat for a bit and then I'll go back down saying you didn't."

"Now, why would you do that?" She said as she looked at him with raised brows, challenging him.

"You know, I actually do have some strips left, I'd be more than happy to wax your legs. Besides, a bet is a bet, Jack. You can't just back down now." She smiled thriumphantly and he groaned in response.

"Why won't you just have my back with this?"

"Oh, I can wax your back too, no problem."

"Not what I meant sweetheart."

"I know." She smiled cheekily as she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, before telling him she'd be downstairs in a bit with all the necessities to wax his legs.

"Hey boys!" She hollered as she rushed down the stairs with her wax kit, the boys looking up at her. Jack was already sitting on the chaise longue with his legs up. His shorts ridden up a bit more than usual to expose his muscular thighs. The others sitting next to him on the couch, ready for the action that was about to unfold.

"Ready, babe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him as she sat down her kit.

"Oh I sure am!" Ben replied with a big boyish smile on his face.

"I'm sure you are, Ben." She chuckled as she ruffled his hair. He'd usually have it gelled back whenever he had a game, but kept it natural and curly when he came around theirs. It was her favourite look of his, perhaps partly because she could mess with his hair more easily.

"I remember when I had this done, hurts like hell. Good luck bro!" Mason interjected, patting Jack's shoulder in mock-sympathy.

"Yeah, I cannot wait to see you cry like a baby. I love you for coming up with this, Ben."

"Babe!" He whined. "You're supposed to support me here."

"Well I am supporting you, I'm the one waxing you. Trust me, you do not want to have this done by someone who has no idea what they're doing." You said as you warmed up a few strips of wax between your hands.

"Seconded." Declan replied with a serious face. Everyone looked at him in confusion; he had never told them about getting waxed before, but it sounded like an intriguing story.

"I'm not even gonna ask, mate." Jack said. Horror stories would not make this experience any more bearable for him. It left Dec pretending to be upset, eager to tell the - no doubt ridiculous - story.

"Alright, I'm gonna get these on." You interrupted their banter, tearing the strip to reveal the sticky substance underneath.

She put the strips on his leg as the boys chatted away. Just as she was putting the fourth strip on, Jack swatted her hand away.

"You have to put all those on?" He questioned her.

"Well the forfeit did say 'legs'. As in, both legs. Completely." Declan argued.

"I did say that. But that's a bit too harsh innit?"

"Yeah, there's already three strips on now, let's see how he gets through those first." Mason offered.

"Will hurt like hell with that much hair." Declan hit Jack's leg for emphasis.

"No doubt." You laughed as you smoothed out the strips once more.

"Ready, Jack?" You asked as you hold the edge of one of the strips, ready to pull it off.

"Wait, wait I gotta film this!" Declan was quick to exclaim as he took out his phone, much to Jack's dismay, who had his hands in front of his face as he waits for the inevitable pain of ripping off the strips.

"Alright, 3. 2. 1!" The boys count down in unison as you rip off the first strip.

"Jesus, Y/N!" An array of curses leave Jack's mouth as he yelps, gripping his leg in pain, his eyes wide with shock. Clearly he had underestimated how much this was really going to hurt, which has all of you rolling over with laughter. Mason is gripping his stomach as he's sitting on the floor, barely able to breathe between his giggles. You're trying to ease Jack's mind and soothingly rub the sensitive skin on his leg, but you're shaking too much from the laughter leaving your lips.

"Oh my lord, and look at the hair that's come off!" Declan hollers as he takes a step closer to properly film the strip that was, indeed, covered in Jack's leg hair. You held it up for the camera as you shrieked at the sheer amount of hair. It's like a lion's mane got glued on the strip.

"Jeez, Jack, you hairy lad." Declan laughs, which earns a grumble from dissatisfied boy. You're pretty sure if Dec wasn't responsible for filming the whole ordeal, he'd be on the ground just as Mason was.

"Oi, what are you crying for, mate? I'm the one in pain here." Jack points a finger accusingly at Ben, and when you turn around you see he has tears in his eyes, breathing coming out in desperate gasps as he shakes his head no, signalling he can't take any more of this banter. It seemed like everyone had at least slightly calmed down, but looking at Ben made everyone burst out in laughter yet again. Mason had tears streaming down his face now too, and you're sure he might piss his pants if he laughs any louder. It even makes Jack chuckle.

"Just get it over with, alright. I don't wanna be in pain any longer." Jack asks you nonetheless, guiding your hand to one of the other strips.

"It can't be that bad." Ben's voice is higher than usual from his earlier laughing fit, but he's wiping the tears from his eyes as he seems to have calmed down considerably. Mason can only nod in confirmation, still unable to form words without giggling.

"I have no problem waxing you lot too, babes." You smile up cheekily at them, which results in loud protests from the boys.

"Now that I would love to see." Jack replies, before looking down at his leg and rubbing the spot that was now rid of any hairs. "Perhaps this would be funnier if there weren't two other strips on me leg." He sighed in despair, staring at his leg with sad eyes. It made you chuckle, but seeing Jack's stern look dericted at you, you quickly focused on the task at hand.

"Alright, next one Jack."

"Lord have mercy."

The next strips don't have any other effect than the first one. It sends all of you rolling on the floor laughing, and Jack with tears in his eyes and red skin on his leg. Dec leaves the room at one point because he genuinely can't breathe, and Mason has to sprint to the bathroom, like you predicted. Meanwhile your hands get shakier and shakier from laughing, and you can barely see what you're doing due to the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Jack's decided to rip the last strip off himself, and you're shrieking with laughter as he pulls at it but chickens out from the pain, resulting in it only coming off halfway. When it is finally off, and all the hairy strips are disposed of, everyone slowly but certainly calms down. You're getting some lotion from upstairs to soothe the stinging, and when Ben orders pizza, it all seems long gone.

Yet when you're watching tv, and Mason steals a sneaky glance at Dec, the both can't help but try - and fail - to surpress their giggles.

It's how the rest of the night continued until the three other boys finally left in the late hours of the night.

"I'll clean, love. Get in bed and I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" Jack's offering once they're gone, and you're accepting gratefully as you kiss his cheek. The night was fun, but the laughing fits had you beyond tired.

So when Jack slips into bed next to you, you're already in bed with your eyes closed, dozing off.

"Hey, babe."

"Hm?" You mumble as you open your eyes at Jack's whisper.

"Wanna feel my leg?" He asks, but he's already draping his freshly waxed leg over your legs, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You've known the guy long enough to know that he won't stop bothering you if you decline, and the request makes you think of the many times you've asked him to feel your legs after - finally - shaving them again.

So you decide to humour him and softly carress his smooth leg.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" His voice cocky as he questions you.

"Sure, real smooth Jack."

"Wanna have sex with a sexy smooth beast like that?"

You snort loudly at his inappropriate request, shoving his leg off of you in a joking manner.

"Oh come on, don't tell me I went through all that for nothing!" He exclaims in agony.

"No, you went through all that because you suck at Fifa." You deadpan as you grin at him.

His eyes are darker as he watches you intently, and the knowing smirk on your face makes you apprehensive of what he's up to now. He's moving closer, hovering over you and effectively trapping you as his muscular arms hold himself up on either side of you. And next thing you know, he's placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, before trailing down to your jaw. A gasp involuntarily leaves your lips as he nibbles at your earlobe.

"You know with how soft my leg is and all." He starts to whisper in your ear. His voice is husky and smooth - and normally you know what it means. But you have no clue where he's going with this sentence. "Would you mind if I-" And he's pausing again for dramatic effect as his lips graze over your hot skin. "Slitherin." He finally whispers in your ear, accentuating the 's'.

And just like that, you're back rolling over with laughter just like you had been that very afternoon.

#Jack grealish #Jack grealish x reader #jack grealish oneshot #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish fanfic

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Wendy!! i was angst-inspired and wanted to share - Shinichiro finally having his feelings reciprocated by one of the people he confesses to, and the other Black Dragons are happy for him, until Akashi realizes he's also having feelings for this person. Of course he respects Shin enough to not get between them, but... it's fine if they get some time on the side, right...?? y/n's got two hands, what he don't know won't hurt him, etc etc. eventually it gets to the point where they feel like things can't continue the way that they have without someone feeling betrayed. so they're preparing to tell Shinichiro but they don't get to before uhhhhhh His Naptime💀 and they both have to live with that guilt and decide how they're gonna move forward, like do they get together?? do they back off of each other?? does it even feel the same if they're not sneaking around? does it make each of them think too much of Shin whenever they see each other??? it just hurts, it hurts my heart because emotions and hurts my brain because i could not write this if i tried lmao

I WAS ABOUT TO GO TO BED UNTIL I SAW THIS AND YOU GAVE ME

H E A R T B U R N

This prompt is ABSOLUTELY INSANE.

And I love it, I'm writing it. Y'all better strap the fuck in, BECAUSE MR. TAKEOMI IS MY ANGST KING. FREAKING GENIUS MASTERMIND, YOU ARE.

Rain Bringer: Shinichiro Sano & Takeomi Akashi x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation (I have been saving this song for a good one. I think this is it):

"We should stop this..."

Takeomi's lips slide up the side of your neck and back down, ignoring your statement in the dim light of the room. The lamp in the corner is red, your signal to Takeomi that you're free for him to come over, which happened every so often after Shinichiro left your apartment for the evening.

"You don't mean that," he replies finally, and you huff, feeling his hands course up to your waist.

No, you don't mean it.

Yeah, you like Shinichiro, but Takeomi makes you feel things no man has ever made you feel. Ever.

It's as if Takeomi took your essence and wrapped it around his wrist, chaining him to you forever. Shinichiro was a safe bet. Takeomi was what your entire body lusted for and desired in the middle of the night when your bed wasn't warm.

"Kiss me," Takeomi whispers and you obey, leaning back to catch his mouth as he leans over your shoulder. "Everything's fine." You kiss each other until the result is the both of you laying in bed, bodies tangled around each other as he pumps into you with sinful and terrifying lust. "God, you're so damn perfect," he breathes, holding your wrists above your head and nudging your nipple with his tongue. "Wish I could have you like this every night."

And you do, too. Sort of.

Out of all of the Black Dragons, why did you have to fall for both Shinichiro and Takeomi? If it wasn't for that night when he walked into Shinichiro's shop and gave you that look... fuck, that heat-filled and desire bringing look!

You'd gone weak-kneed and landed right on them in front of Takeomi, taking him in the backroom like a devious and scheming whore. It wasn't okay. If Shinichiro found out... you'd both be dead. You'd gotten lucky multiple times with Takeomi's dalliances, from almost getting caught in the shop to the warehouse to the fucking bathroom at the club...

You liked Shinichiro. You did.

But Takeomi was just... something else.

After his single orgasm and your fifth one, your head rests against his chest and you hear his heart beating slowly beneath his rib cage.

"We need to tell Shinichiro," you exhale. Takeomi goes stiff, but the thought had crossed his mind before. He thought about pulling Shin aside and trying to tell him in the nicest way that he was fucking his girlfriend. But... to his shame, he never got the courage. But now that you're bringing it up, he feels some sense of 'morality' or whatever it was.

"We'll tell him tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you reply, falling asleep on the man's chest after a few moments of silence. Takeomi wished he had his cigarettes so he could smoke to ease his mind, but not wanting to wake you, and not wanting to move - he forgoes them, instead letting his mind roam while you rest.

_____________________________________________________________

The news comes that morning.

Both of you had multiple missed calls and a tear-filled Mikey and Emma trying to get a hold of you, get a hold of someone.

But you both had been deep in the throes of sleep, nestled in with each other as the sun rose on the bleak-ass day. You part without words, Takeomi pressing a kiss against your forehead as he leaves out the door, forgetting the breakfast you tried to make and the coffee that had gone cold in your silence of getting ready for the day. How could you face the younger Sano children like this?

You were sure that Takeomi's cum was still nestled between your thighs like the stain of your sin, visible for every single person to see as you walked down the street to the Sano home. You're shaking as you walk through the door, shivering even though it's not cold and your body curling in on itself, even though you haven't been hurt.

Takeomi is sitting at the table, facing away from you, but you can't find the strength to call out to him. Instead, you feel like a fraud as you cry in Keizo's arms, trying to find something that feels authentic to you deep in your heart. You had feelings for Shinichiro. But you cry more out of guilt than your pain, trying to make sense of your own actions.

At the funeral, you wonder if you had just asked Shinichiro to stay the night - instead of being so eager to push him out - if he would have survived. And again, Takeomi doesn't speak to you, and you don't try to speak to him.

Neither of you can face what you've done.

Especially not with each other.

_____________________________________________________________

A week passes.

Two.

Three.

And you find yourself in your apartment, staring at the things he left you with a sense of dread. The chain, the shirts, the bracelet he stowed away for your birthday...

You swipe the things off the dresser top, enraged at yourself for being such a horrible person. You can't face yourself - all of the mirrors have been turned around. All of his clothes were still in your closet because you knew if you touched them, you'd be forced to face what you've done.

But anger drives you forward, pulling at the items and yanking them off their hangers, each shirt, each pair of pants, each hat falling to the ground in a heap of laundry that you can't find the heart to dispose of.

You could find the heart to fuck his best friend, though.

The swarm of accusatory thoughts begins to plague your mind, and you sit on the floor, tears falling from your eyes as you try to knock them loose or free them so they can't hurt you anymore.

Your thoughts are so loud that you almost don't hear the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You swallow your tears, wipe your face, and trudge to the fixture before opening it without checking to see who it is.

Your mouth dries up when you see Takeomi, his eyes full of sorrow.

"Takeomi," you breathe, but he pushes past you, ignoring the sound you make when he grips your wrist and drags you to your room. when he sees all of the clothing scattered across the floor, something in him recognizes your dilemma, but he doesn't say a word. Instead, he turns around and kisses you roughly, pushing you against the door and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip.

It's not wrong if Shinichiro's dead, you chant to yourself, trying to make sense of the feeling in your body as Takeomi takes you and claims you as his over and over again in the bed you once shared with a dead man. And you can't help it, you rationalize.

Takeomi's the only one who understands your pain, your suffering. It's unique to both of you and drives you back together, even though his death drove you two apart.

"I don't regret what we did," Takeomi pants, moving you up and down in his lap while you face him. "I don't regret a single moment of it."

And deep down, you don't either.

_____________________________________________________________

But sadly, those feelings of lust and desire peter out with time.

You realize that the relationship between you and Takeomi was built solely on the fact that you were sneaking around, that you were being little shitty kids and playing a game that didn't make sense anymore. It's like playing hide-and-seek with a ghost, but that ghost is how you felt about Takeomi before, and how you feel about him now is staring you right in the face.

The face before you is Shinichiro's, and you stare into his dark eyes and see the betrayal lurking there in your dreams, in your nightmares, in your thoughts when you pass by the former S.S. Motors.

"We should stop this."

This time, Takeomi looks up at you and into your reflection in the mirror. His eyes seem to betray how he truly feels, which is nothing short of empty.

"Yeah."

You get dressed in silence again, just like the time when you found out Shinichiro died, and he leaves without saying and word and without a kiss. You watch him walk away into the rainy night, hands in his pockets, and wonder if Shinichiro hadn't died... would you two still be doing what you did before? Would you sneak around with him and play the gamble of getting caught? Or would you settle for a man who made you feel safe?

Maybe you'd dump him for Takeomi.

You don't know.

But all you know is that every single time you remembered Takeomi Akashi, you'd have the painful memory of betraying someone you cared about... twice.

#takeomi akashi smut #takeomi akashi x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut

[hangovercurse]

Jawbreaker

You’ve been dodging Colson’s advances for once, but when he shows up at 6 in the morning, you finally decide to give in.

Request: “I love your writing can you write a Colson x reader using the song jawbreaker with some fluff and smut, maybe on the beach?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: smut, cursing

A/N: this is so much longer than I meant it to be (it was going to be longer but I cut it off bc I needed to post this) (Also, I’ve never had sex on the beach so… apologies for any inaccuracies but I tried my best lmao)

Word Count: 2861

Who the hell was calling you at 5 in the morning?

The light from the phone screen burned your eyes slightly as Colson’s name came into view. You sighed out before answering, “why do you do this?”

The man on the other end of the phone snickered, “good, you’re awake. I’ll be at your house in 20.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion and discuss, “no the fuck you will not. I was asleep.”

He chuckled, “we’re going to the beach.”

“Colson, I have work to do.” This was not the first time he had pulled an extravagant stunt to try and get your attention, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N, how do you still have work to do, you work all the time.” He groaned in frustration, “you’re coming with me, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You rolled your eyes, “well, that’s the answer I’m giving.” You hung up the phone, unable to see the disappointed expression on his face when you did.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Colson, you did. You just didn’t swoon over him like every other woman in his life, which apparently only made him try to get your attention even more.

After you hung up you fell back asleep, not considering that he might actually show up at your door in 20 minutes. So, when he did, you wanted to kill him.

“Colson, I told you. I have work to do.”

Admittedly, the sight of him in a sheer tank top and low hanging swim shorts on your doorstep was one that would occupy your mind for a while. But you still refused to give him the attention he craved.

He smiled innocently, “you can take vacation days.” Your expression was unamused, prompting him to continue, “you work too hard, just take one day off with me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I work a normal amount and I take vacation days. Just not with you.”

Colson pouted, tilting his head to the side, “that hurt.”

A chuckle fell from your lips with a roll of your eyes, “if I go today will you stop calling me before 9 am?”

He shrugged, “probably not.”  

You groaned, moving to let him enter your house reluctantly. “Give me like 10 minutes,” you sighed, moving to your room to grab your sexiest bikini. Despite your reluctancy, you decided that if you were going to go, you might as well make it fun. You threw a long, slightly see-through shirt on top, the material not doing all that much to hide what was underneath.

After fixing up the rest of your appearance, you moved to find Colson, who you had left in the living room. He was lounging on the couch when you appeared, his jaw dropping dramatically.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle, moving to stand in front of him. “Are we leaving or are you just gonna sit there all day?”

He stuttered, his face blushing red, “uh- yeah, let’s- uh- let’s go.”  You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him off the couch gently and leading him to the door. You grabbed your sunglasses on the way out, catching the time; 5:32.

Colson opened the car door for you, helping you in. As soon as he got onto the main road, his right hand moved to rest on your thigh. Your first instinct was to say something snarky about it, or just remove it altogether, but you decided to let yourself relax for the day.

It was hard to say what you and Colson were. You weren’t dating per se, but you were certainly more than friendly. Colson had a habit of calling you at all hours of the night and early morning, asking you to hang out with him or full on (drunk) confessing his adoration for you. You always rejected his advances, knowing you had no time for a relationship and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of falling for him. But there was always a part of you that craved him, and his constant flirting and touching didn’t help anything.

The ride to the beach was relaxing; Colson had the windows rolled down to let the wind encase your body. The cold contrasted with the warmth that his hand sent running through you, his thumb rubbing small circles onto the bare skin. He blared music through the speakers, singing along despite the early hours. You giggled as he gave very dramatic performances, eventually singing along with him.

When you arrived, he reached in the trunk to get the large blanket he had placed there earlier. With his free hand he grasped your hand, intertwining your fingers. You sent him a questioning look but didn’t pull away.

The beach was empty except for a few people walking the shoreline. Colson spread out the blanket in a small area closer inland, fairly hidden from the view of the rest of the beach. He pulled off his shirt slowly, showing off his tattooed chest and muscular torso. You did everything you could to stop yourself from staring. He made no effort to keep his eyes off of you as you rid yourself of your shirt.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the water, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He smirked, “can I really?” You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly. The water ran over your toes, the coldness surprising you. The man laughed as you squealed lightly, jumping back in shock.

“It’s cold,” you tried to defend yourself, but he kept laughing. “You’re a jerk,” you pouted, kicking water towards him. He narrowed his eyes playfully, waddling further into the water and returning the gesture. “Colson!”

Before you knew it, a splashing war had started between you two, which ended with Colson dragging you further into the water. You whined as it hit the top of your thighs, shivers running through your body. Colson chuckled teasingly, “are you cold?”

“Yes,” you moved closer to him, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulders, “you wouldn’t understand because the water is barely hitting above your knees.”

He looked down at you with a mischievous expression before leaning down and picking you up, bridal style. “Put me down!” You tried to sound serious, but your laughter exposed your amusement.

Colson shrugged, “if you say so.” Before you could protest, he lightly threw you into the water.

When you emerged, you had a pout on your face, “I hate you.”

He laughed, “I know you do.” He moved towards you, arms reaching out to grab your waist. He pulled you into his chest, the warmth of his skin seeping into your own. “Let’s go warm up,” he pulled away and laced your hands together again, leading you back to your spot on the beach.

You settled onto the blanket while Colson grabbed a towel from his car, wrapping it around you when he returned. He sat down beside you, his legs spread out in front of him. You climbed into his lap, leaning into his chest to find more warmth. When he chuckled at your actions, you hushed him, “you’re warm, shut up.”

He teased you, “I think you just want to be close to me.”

You scrunched your nose playfully, “who’d want to be close to you?” He shook his head playfully before leaning his chin on the top of your head.

It was quiet for a little while after that, both of you relaxing in each other’s arms. It was interrupted by Colson, “hey, look.”

You lifted your head to send a confused look to him, only to find his gaze on the sky. Moving your vision to where his was focused, you found the sky a beautiful array of pink and orange. A smile came to your face at the beauty of it all. “I haven’t watched the sun rise in so long,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting with your back against his chest.

His hands placed themselves on your lower stomach gently as he leaned towards you and whispered, “that’s why I brought you out here this early.”

You looked up at him over your shoulder, “thank you.”

He shrugged, “told you, you need a break.” You rolled your eyes playfully before leaning up and pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

You began to move away before his lips caught yours, keeping you in place. The kiss was unexpected, but you found yourself easily falling into it. His lips were smooth against your own, the movements perfectly in sync.

You shifted so that you were on your knees facing him, arms finding their place around his neck. His hands gripped your sides as his tongue slid across your lips. Your lips parted to let him in, deepening the kiss. You let one of your hands travel up and down his torso, feeling the muscles underneath your fingers.

Colson’s hand moved down to your thigh, pausing at your ass momentarily to massage the skin. He moved one leg at a time so that you were straddling him from your knees, his bulge growing ever more apparent to you. You moaned quietly as you started grinding on him, only the very thin fabric of your bathing suits covering you.

His lips detached from yours, “we should stop before we- uh-“

You rolled your eyes, cutting him off, “what, scared of getting caught?”

He scoffed, “I was trying to be a gentleman and say we could go do this somewhere with less sand, but whatever you want, m’lady.”

A laugh rolled off your tongue before you pecked his lips lightly, “you’re cute.” You pecked his lips again, grinding onto him again, “but you started this here, so you’re gonna finish it here.”

Colson smirked, lips finding yours immediately. His hands moved to the towel that had fallen to your feet, using it to cover up your middle. “Turn around,” he whispered, and you did as he said. , sliding off his lap for a moment so that he could pull his member out of his pants, rolling on a condom that he’d had in his pocket.

You chuckled, “was this your plan all along?” You placed your knees on either side of him once again, making sure the towel was placed across your lap properly.

He reached for your waist, pulling you closer to him and undoing the ties on either side of your bikini bottoms, “I was being hopeful.”

His lips found your neck as you lifted your hips and slowly slid his length into you. You let out a hum, biting your lip to keep any actual moans from coming out. “Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” he muttered against your skin.

You whined quietly as his hands on your waist led you up and down him slowly. You placed your own hands against his thighs to keep yourself balanced. Your pace sped up, hips moving to collide with his needily.

He filled you up fully, hitting your walls and setting every nerve in your body on fire. It didn’t take very long for you to begin clenching around him. His pants and kisses against your neck made every feeling even more intense. “’m close, Kells,” you whined, grinding yourself into him even harder.

He growled against your skin, hands still controlling the majority of your movements, “I know, princess. Just hold on a little longer.” He began to thrust his hips up into you harshly, going deeper into your core than he had before.

You couldn’t hold in the moans anymore, the noises spilling from your mouth with every thrust. He smirked, “that’s it, baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Mm, please. I’m so close,” you whined, trying to hold off your release as long as possible. Colson didn’t say a word, he only continued to thrust up into you for a few more moments before twitching inside of you.

His thrusts got sloppy as he approached his climax, his voice sending you over the edge. “Cum around me, babe.”

Fireworks spread through your body as you came, your orgasm washing over you heavily. Colson’s seed spilled into the condom inside of you, his thrusts slowing before stopping completely.

You lifted yourself off of him, leaning against his chest. You moved with its rise and fall, his heavy breaths filling your ears. He pressed lazy kisses to your cheek and jaw as the two of you came down, whispering into your ear, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Smiling, you put your bikini bottoms on, still under the cover of the towel. Once you were both decent enough to make it to the water, you climbed out of his lap and stood up, pulling him with you. He followed you lazily to the water, hands once again finding your hips and pulling you towards him.

He pressed a kiss to your lips, eyes shining brightly, “glad you came?”

“A little,” you giggled, reconnecting your lips.

 A few hours later the two of you packed up and went back to your place, a sleepy haze finding its way to your mind. You had tried to stay awake as long as possible, but Colson could tell you were struggling to keep your eyes open. So, when he suggested a nap, you easily agreed. You curled up in his arms, sleep overtaking you almost instantly.

It was around 6 pm when you woke up to your phone vibrating. You groaned, untangling yourself from Colson and climbing off of the bed.

“Hello?” You answered the phone call.

Your manager’s voice rang through the phone, “Hey, Y/N! I thought you were going to get those sides to me today?”

You groaned, having completely forgotten about the work you’d needed to do today. “Yeah, I’ll get ‘em to you tonight, what time do you need them?”

“The director was hoping by 8 pm, think you can swing that?”

You sighed, thankful that you had at least recorded most of the material the day before, “I can try.” Your manager thanked you before hanging up, leaving you to let out an annoyed groan.

You felt a pair of hands around your waist, Colson’s familiar tattoos alerting you to their owner. “What was that about?” His voice was riddled with sleep, making you want to do nothing but lie in bed with him the rest of the day.

Instead, you turned to face him with a sigh, “I have to record some stuff for this audition before 8 tonight.” He pouted, leaning down to kiss you. You moved your head so that his lips met your cheek, making the man huff. “Colson, you should go home.”

He groaned, “it’s your day off, you shouldn’t have to do work.”

“You decided it was my day off, I told you I had work to do.” You giggled, pushing away from him, “I can’t record if you’re here.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he pleaded, his lips moving down to suck on your jaw.

You pushed him away gently, “that’s not what I mean. You’re a distraction, I won’t get anything done in time if you’re here.” You smiled fondly at his poutiness.

“You work too much.”  

Moving away from him, you chuckled, “I’m being serious, Kells.”

“Are you really kicking me out?” He huffed, tilting his head to the side. You simply nodded in response, to which he responded, “are we going to talk about today?”

You sighed, “not right now. I have to get this stuff done.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, moving towards your door, “okay, I’m gone.”

You watched the man walk out the door, conflicted between wanting to pull him back inside and never let him leave and wanting to lock the door and never let him back in.

 At 6am, you were awoken by a knock at your door. Why does this keep happening to you?

You weren’t going to answer it, hoping whoever it was would just go away, but once you heard the “Y/N? I know you’re home,” you knew they wouldn’t.

“Colson, it’s six in the morning, what are you doing?” You took in the man’s appearance, his bloodshot eyes, red cheeks, and stench alerting you to his far from sober state.

He slurred his words when he spoke, “I wanted to see you.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe, “did you drive here?” The man nodded, dangling his keys in your face. “How the hell are you not dead?” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the keys from his hand, “c’mon, I’m driving you home.”

He stumbled forward, trying to stop you from moving towards his car, “let’s just hang out here.”

“Colson, it is 6 in the morning and you’re crossed on my doorstep, I’m taking you home.” You tried to push past him, but even wasted he was stronger than you.

He whined, “I came to see you, don’t make me leave.”

At this point, you were too tired to fight with him, “fine, but I’m going back to sleep.”

He laughed mischievously, stepping closer to you, and wrapping an arm around your waist, “no you aren’t.”

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