#I’ve given my skinny jeans a rest

[sevcasejay1chicago]

hey im dreaming of a reading story with jay where he meets a reader a quiet shy bookworm who always wears dresses or skirts and is a bit younger than him (around 10 but if that's too much for you maybe less) the rest of the Intelligence (Will too) doesn't believe she has feelings for him but then something happens and they see how much she is in love with him and they start treating her like family and Will like a little sister

Sorry for my English but it's my second language and I also wanted to say that your stories always bring me joy and peace 🤍

Found Family- Jay Halstead

Warnings: mentions panic attacks and sleazy men

Authors note: Thank you for the ask! I had to make a few changes, but I hope you still love it!

—————————

You met Jay by chance and unfortunate circumstances. You have a habit of frequenting coffee shops on your days off. You are almost always dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, glasses perched on your face and hair thrown into a messy bun. You enjoy reading and studying in crowded places so that you can people watch when you need a break. You sit toward the back, back against the wall, and watch as people come and go as you drink your coffee.

Today, you sat in the back in your skinny jeans and maroon sweatshirt, laptop sat untouched in front of you, school work spread around the table, but your favorite book was perched in your hand. You’d given up on studying for the time being and there wasn’t really much to look at or watch at the moment. That was until someone came back to your table.

The guy couldn’t have been more than 50, but he was certainly uninvited when it came to sitting in the seat directly across from you. He had a sinister smirk gracing his face as he stared at you. You tried to ignore him, in hopes that he would go away, but you had no such luck.

Putting your book down, you shut your laptop and folded your arms protectively across your chest. “Can I help you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The guy smirked and brushed his foot across your leg. “Maybe. I’ve been watching you for some time now. You seemed lonely and I figured I could offer you some company. After all, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be alone.” He replied, smiling suggestively as he leaned forward and started moving your stuff out of the way to get to you.

“Hey!” You said, pushing your chair back to get away from him.

The man hooked his feet around the legs of your chair and pulled you back. “Oh come on. Don’t be like that.” He snarled. “Let’s not make a scene.”

You were shaking as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You looked around for anyone who could help you when you spotted a handsome cop watching the situation unfold. You did the open and closed hand signal, which immediately had him moving out of line.

“Everything okay here?” The cop asked, coming to stand at your side, looking down on the man as he flashed his shield at the creep.

“Yes officer. Everything is fine. I’m just talking to my girl.” The man immediately answered, leaning forward to touch you again.

The cop lunged forward, taking the man’s wrist in his hand and twisting his arm behind his back. “I don’t think she wants you touching her. This is your only warnings to back off or I’m arresting you for harassment.” The cop practically growled into the man’s ear. “Got it?” He asked, letting up slightly.

The man nodded. “Got it. Got it! Please let me go. Your hurting me.” The man begged.

The cop immediately let go and yanked the man out of the chair. “Get out of here. Never, and I mean never, talk to this woman again or come into this coffee shop. We clear?” The cop asked the man.

“We’re clear.” The man replied, immediately walking out the front door.

The cop turned to you and kneeled on the ground at your side. “Hey. I’m Jay Halstead. You okay?” Jay asked, looking up at you with kind eyes.

You shook your head and stifled a sob. “N-no. I j-us.” You drug in a breath, trying your hardest to keep the tears at bay. “I wanna g-go h-home.” You whispered, wild eyes checking the area around you.

Jay nodded and stood. “It’s okay. Let’s get you packed.” Jay offered, looking at you for approval. When you nodded, he immediately began gathering your things for you. “Do you want a ride home?” Jay asked once you were ready to go.

You smiled shyly and nodded. “I-if it isn’t t-too much t-trouble.” You agreed, fidgeting with a backpack strap with one hand and wiping tears from your eyes, under your glasses.

Jay smiled. “No problem at all. Come on.” Jay said, leading the way out, coffee long forgotten.

———————

That first encounter was 6 months ago. Ever since, you have yet to see that creep, but you have seen Jay Halstead dozens of times. He frequently comes to your place at the end of the day, which is a habit he started forming after your initial meeting. At first, he wanted to be sure you were okay, and that the man stayed away, since you live alone and have no family in town. He brought something every time he came, and often stayed until you fell asleep.

Now, Jay comes over whenever he gets a chance or whenever you need each other. Most nights end with you snuggled into his embrace and him carrying you to bed. Sometimes, you will stay at the other’s apartment if it gets too late, but you both have yet to establish any relationship.

Tonight, you and Jay are having drinks with his team and his brother, Will Halstead. You are sitting next to Kevin and relentlessly teasing and flirting with him. It’s something you have done with all of the guys, and sometimes the girls, to try and mask the feelings you have for Jay. You distract yourself with one of the guys when Jay meets another girl to try and stifle your jealousy. Since you haven’t shown the same energy to Jay, nobody else has ever suspected that you could have any real feelings for Jay. Until tonight.

You were going up to the bar to grab drinks when someone grabbed you around the waist. You barely reacted at first, thinking it was one of the guys or one of your friends from 51, until they tried pulling you closer and spoke.

“No one as pretty as you should be alone.” The man whispered, trying to tug you into him.

You shrugged him off and waved down Stella. “I-I’m not a-alone.” You stammered, your anxiety immediately heightened as you felt the man move his arm higher up and try to hook a hand around your boob.

You felt like the room was closing in as you lost sight of Stella, until the man was forced off of you. You almost fell, but landed in steady arms that immediately pulled you into their chest and backed away as Adam and Stella dragged the guy out of the bar with Kevin in tow. You struggled briefly, but recognized the smell of your best friend, Jay Halstead.

“Hey hey hey. It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.” Jay shushed, caging you in his embrace as he walked you through the crowd and back to the table.

“She alright?” Asked Will, sliding a glass of water your way.

You had major anxiety when it came to going out in public since the initial incident. You’ve just recently started venturing to the bar on your own since you know many of the patrons, but this was gonna set you back. Your anxiety was through the roof as you clung to Jay with shaking hands.

Jay shushed you and pulled your head into his chest, placing a hand on the ear that was facing the crowded bar. You could barely hear the noises of the bar, but you could clearly hear the beat of Jay’s heart and feel his chest rising and falling. Jay spoke to Will as you allowed yourself to get lost in your thoughts about Jay. Instead of replaying the incident, you allowed Jay’s presence to calm and reassure you.

Eventually, Jay pulled back and picked you up, following Will through the crowded bar. “We’re gonna go home. Alright? I’m gonna take you home.” Jay said to you, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, leaning your head on Jay’s shoulder. As you walked out, you spotted Adam trying to chill Kevin out. Kevin was pretty close to you, like the big brother you never had, and was extremely pissed that someone had the nerve to mess with you. The anger immediately turned to playfulness as they spotted Jay carrying you out and your little wave over his shoulder. They both began making kissing face and inappropriate gestures towards you and Jay that had you hiding giggles in Jay’s neck.

“Alright love birds, into the truck.” Will teased, opening the door for Jay to slip in the back seat with you.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jay replied, sliding in with you and buckling you both in, not letting you out of his lap as you shivered from the adrenaline crash.

The ride home is silent. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you hoped Jay would stay either way. Your question was answered soon as Jay got out of the truck and headed into his apartment.

“Figured you wouldn’t want to be alone.” Jay said to you, letting you down as he took his key off his key ring and threw the keys to the truck at Will. “Just bring it back tomorrow.” Jay said to his brother, both of you waving back to Will as he drove off.

You followed Jay in, immediately going into his closet to grab his army sweatshirt, changing into it and leaving your clothes on his bedroom floor. When you came back into the living room, Jay had your favorite playlist on and some hot tea. He was sat back on the couch, in sweat pants that he grabbed from his dryer and no shirt.

You wasted no time in crawling into his lap and laying your head on his chest again. You waited for him to wrap his arms around you and get comfortable before you swallowed your fears and spoke. “Jay. I wanna tell you something.” You whispered, fiddling with his dog tags.

Jay hummed, pulling you even closer.

“I really like you. I mean, your my safe space. You always know how to make me feel better, no matter the situation.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “Sometimes, I just wanna lay my head on your chest and forget everything bad that has ever happened to me.” Finally, you sat up some and looked him in the eyes. “I want to be with you. In more ways than one. Honestly Jay, I love you.” You said, smiling wildly as Jay smiled at you.

“Thank God. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I’ve been waiting on the right time to tell you that I love you too.” Jay said, crashing his lips into yours. The kiss was slow and needy. Your hands found purchase around his neck and in his hair. His softly held you around the waist with the other tangled in your hair as well.

The kiss ended when you both finally needed air. You laid your forehead against his, noses brushing against each other.

“The others are gonna freak.” You whispered, causing Jay to cackle.

“Nah. I heard there’s a bet going on. You found a family in my little family. They are just gonna be happy we are finally together.” Jay said, smiling widely as he leaned in for another kiss.

——————————————

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

@daggersquadphantom

@stellakiddsblog

@100yroldteenagers

@senjoritanana

@celtic-shadow-wolf

@starset21

[horrificshit]

Limits.

Dom!Lou miller x Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, dumbification, strap on?, daddy kink, age gap

A/N: I decided to write this in a first person point-of-view. Why? Don’t ask me.

Words: 1.8k

Ding!

The sound of my phone going off. Curiosity peaks, I pick up my phone, revealing who messaged me:

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “Hey baby, I’m out doing some errands, can you be dressed by the time I’m home?”

Oh? Why does she want me dressed? Maybe we’re going somewhere fancy? Surely not.. Surprisingly, going to places which require dressing up for are a rare occurrence.

I shoot a text back, giving a response to Lou’s message.

You: “Okay! Should I dress fancy?”

Lou💕: “Yes, you’ll see why once I’m home 😉”

I get up from my once cave-like spot in the king size bed, giving up the warmth of the bedsheets. The room is quite cold due to the crispness of the winter weather in late January.

Speed walking to the closet, I sift through a number of dresses; all of different colors, lengths, patterns, and materials.

a long sleeve dress was obviously the ethical choice given the weather, but a short, skintight dress seemed more ethical in my opinion. Who cares about being cold when id feel like the sexiest girl in the room?

My eyes land on a white satin dress. I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one. Where did I get it again? Maybe from high school prom.

Bleh. Prom. I always hated prom. And evidently, I only went that one time. Brian Richards, the boy I went with, he ended up being a huge duche.

Whatever.

I slip on the dress, and— oh my god. I could literally fuck myself. The dress, it hugs all my curves in all the right places. My collar bones stick out and I find that extremely sexy, and hopefully Lou will think the same.

Shoes.

Grab a pair of white heels. Not to tall, not too short.

My jewelry is dainty. a gold necklace with a small heart. So small in-fact, you can hardly see it. Large gold pearl earrings accompany the necklace.

I trot over to my vanity, gathering a few products: primer, concealer, blush, highlighter, mascara, and lipgloss. Simple, yet bold.

My hair lies in a simple half-up-half-down with, of course, a white bow in the back.

And, just as I get finished, I hear that familiar ding of my phone, notifying me that Lou must be here for me. I check my phone, and to my expectation, I see an incoming message from the older woman.

Incoming message from Lou💕:

Lou💕: “I’m here. Take your time, the reservation isn’t until 6:30.”

Smiling, I put my phone down and take a look in the mirror. Hopefully she likes it as much as I do.

I grab my small brown purse and take yet another look in the mirror, giving one last check before going out the door to greet my girlfriend.

Overall outfit:

I walk toward Lou’s sports car, the cold nipping me in the butt. Literally and figuratively. I sort of regret wearing a sleeveless dress, but whatever, I look amazing.

Lou unlocks the car door, and I enter the vehicle. She looks like she’d seen a ghost from how she was looking at me. Did I look that good?

Her eyes rake up my entire body, stopping at my lips. I smile, flattered and proud of myself that I indeed, do look that good.

“Where are we going?” I inquire, still having not been told why I had to get all dolled up. “Somewhere fancy.” Chuckles Lou, already having naughty thoughts.

She takes the initiative to reach her hand over and grasp onto my thigh. I squeak, not being prepared for her to touch me, but relax a few seconds later.

Some time goes by and I decide to take in what Lou herself is wearing:

She wears a black turtleneck top, a black leather jacket atop. Black skinny jeans, the type that hug her curves, or in reality, her ass, in the most perfect way.

In correlation with the rest of her outfit, she wears black heeled boots. And of course, in typical Lou fashion, her plethora of necklaces lay on top of her chest.

The car stops, and the older woman squeezes my thigh, silently letting me know she’s going to let go, and that we’ve arrived at the final destination.

“We’re here,” Lou says with a smirk. I look up and see a restaurant with a name I cannot even pronounce. At least without stuttering that is. The restaurant looked exclusive; like we weren’t allowed in. But, according to my girlfriend, we are.

We both get out of the car, and I immediately am reminded of how cold it is outside. Lou takes notice of my shivering, and ushers me inside of the restaurant.

The girl in the front greets Lou and I. “Hello, welcome to Novitá, do you have a reservation?”

Lou grabs her phone, pulling up a digital receipt. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but the world changes everyday, I suppose.

“Here,” Lou shows the girl the receipt, looking back at me with a smile.

“If it doesn’t work, my reservation should be under the name Lou Miller.”

She types in her name and smiles back, grabbing two menus. “This way,” we’re leaded to our table, which Lou previously reserved days before.

We both order our drinks, champagne for myself, whilst Lou opts for an ‘old fashioned’, or in other words, whiskey, sugar, and water.

She obviously has a stronger tolerance to alcohol than I do, because I could never handle the extreme burn of whiskey going down my throat. Other things maybe, but definitely not that.

The drinks arrive, and the girl from before, who, upon reading her name tag, appears to be Arabella.

She takes our orders, and apologizes for any delays, the restaurant appears to be quite busy. I look around and take note of the ‘noble looking’ people surrounding the table we’re sat at. We don’t look nearly as rich as them.

“Y/N? What do you want to order?” I’m snapped out of my trance by Lou and brought back into reality. I look at her, and back down at the menu that rests in my hands. ‘Gnocchi di Patate’. That sounds delicious. But wait, $34.99?? How is she getting all of this money?

I open my mouth after some time and tell the waitress what I want. She writes it down, and tells us it may be a while, and to enjoy our drinks.

“So,” Lou starts. She rubs her foot up my leg, making me squirm slightly at the feeling. “I thought you deserved a treat for being such a good girl.”

I look into her eyes. Completely blown out. I can’t help but the small smirk on my face, knowing all to well how this will end: with me bent over,screaming her name, her hand muffling the noise.

“Are you not gonna say anything? Daddy paid a lot of money for this, I think I deserve to at least hear your voice.” I look down, not being able to carry out the eye contact. She continues to rub my leg underneath the table. Good thing there’s a satin mat, covering the whole length of the table, down to the floor.

“I-“ words weren’t an option at this point. My mind is far too small at the moment to even comprehend anything else but the husky voice of the older woman across from me.

“What? Cats got your tongue?,” She starts, staring at me like she’s the predator and I’m her delicious little prey.

“,or are you just too dumb to use your words?” Continues Lou, sending me into a serene headspace. My mind is completely blank, besides the vision of the woman across from me.

TIME SKIP

We finish up with our food, no words being exchanged between Lou and I. Just her speaking to me. Telling me that she thinks I’m beautiful, though some ways more appropriate than others.

The check arrives and she pulls out her platinum card, swiping it. I can’t help but feel bad that she spent that much on me, between the cost of my drink, and the food.

“You ready?” She inquired.

“Mhm.”

I appear to be shy, but in reality, I’m extremely horny. She’s been teasing me all night, and I just know that there’s more in store. If not at home, she’s likely to get impatient and do her business in the car.

Buckling into the car seat, she revs up the engine. I look up at her, smiling innocently with my signature doe eyes. Unlike my own, her eyes are completely blown out. She’s more that ready to pounce when given the chance. Pounce being her having her way with me; not that I’d have a problem with that.

Lou’s hand once again finds its spot on my thigh, where it remains for the duration of the car ride, occasionally feeling a squeeze every now and then.

“I really don’t like how quiet you’re being,” Lou confronts, the once silent car ride no longer.

“What’s wrong?”

Silence.

I just can’t get any words out. Even if I were to try, the only thing that’ll come out is a string of whimpers and sounds. Words just aren’t an option at this moment.

Then, the whirring of the car’s engine stops, Her key taken out of the fob. Lou turns to me, hands still on my body.

“Baby. Did I do something? Daddy would feel terrible if she hurt her baby.” Her hands wander up my legs, stopping at the end of my dress.

Soft hands caress my calf, smiling as she knows what she’s doing.

“Lou.. not in the car…” I say in an extremely small voice, the headspace Lou has created for me completely taking over my mind.

“Fine,” she opens the car door, walking to my side, opening the door for me. “Inside. I want you on the bed, stripped.” The older woman said in her husky voice.

Once we made it up to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and I made a b-line to the bedroom.

Taking one last look in the mirror, I slip off my dress and take off my shoes, revealing a matching white lingerie set:

Climbing on top of Lou’s bed, I wait patiently for her return.

“I guess you are a good girl then,” Lou says, the door slowly creeping open. “, and I see you’re wearing my present.”

Lou bought me this set a while back to celebrate her and Debbie’s successful heist. I’ve never been a huge fan of her job, but she enjoys it, so I can’t see a problem with that.

Slow steps, excruciatingly slow, inch their way toward me. “Nothing to say, huh?” Now crawling on top of me, I can’t help but let out a small whine.

Lou chuckles at my pathetic sound, enjoying the power she has against me and my body.

“You know,” The older woman starts, huskily. “I wish I could get you to tell me what’s up.”I want to speak; say something, anything, but I know the only thing that would come out is my silent pleas, and a string of cries.

She scoffs at my silence. My eyes are burning from the tears that threaten to fall, my mind and body so sexually frustrated. “I suppose we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | twenty five

You’re the king baby, I’m your queen. *Noah’s POV* “So where are you taking me?” I looked over at Ellie and just smirked, not daring to tell her where we were going. I kept my eyes on her for a little longer than I expected, I couldn’t help myself. She had her hair in a sleeked back ponytail, black ripped skinny jeans, white tank top and her signature checkered vans. The past 24 hours with her have been absolute heaven. My home has been such a safe space for me and having her in it made it feel complete finally. She was so patient and understanding with me last night and I felt like a huge weight had been lifted. Sex with her felt like a drug I wanted to use for the rest of my life. Between last night, this morning and fucking her quickly in the shower before we left the house, I still couldn’t get enough of her right now.

“I’m not telling you.” I replied as I backed out of my driveway and headed down the street. She crossed her arms and I could feel her eyes on me. “Great, I’m gonna end up on the news. Newsflash, Canadian women missing in the Hollywood Hills.” I was having a hard time holding my laughter back at how dramatic she was being, “do you really think I’m taking you somewhere to murder you?” “I don’t know, Noah Sebastian…are you?” She sarcastically replied. “Ok fine, I’ll ruin the surprise. I wanted to order from my favourite sushi place, and take you to my favourite spot in the city to have a little picnic. I figured since most of our time has been taken up with my shows, we deserved another quiet night together before you leave.” 

She leaned over the console and kissed my cheek, almost making me run through a red light.“That sounds great. I’m sorry for accusing you of murder.” “I am capable of it but I’ll save it for another day.” I winked. She just rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand as she looked out the window. I felt my heart skip a beat over how happy I was feeling right now. The windows were down, music was playing, and the sun was shining, making Ellie’s dark hair shine. I don’t think it could get better than this.

We left the restaurant with enough sushi to feed an army and headed over to White Point beach. This place was so special to me for so many reasons. I got a lot of my writing for the death of peace of mind done here and it was just my escape from the pandemic. It was the one place I actually felt my nervous system calm down. I’ve tried chasing that feeling elsewhere and honestly, I never found it until I met Ellie. “Wow…Noah.” Ellie paused, putting her hand over her mouth as she admired the view in front of her. I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be since she was also surrounded by beaches and mountains at home but she still looked awestruck. The beach had a hill that towered over everything, giving you the perfect view of the ocean and an even better view of the sunset. “This is my hiding spot.” I replied turning off the car and locking my fingers with Ellie’s. “I’ve never shown anyone this spot. This place has given me more peace than therapy ever has. I just wanted to show you it cause … well because you give me the feeling this place does.” “Noah…” She whispered as tears filled her eyes. She took her seatbelt off and grabbed me by the back of my neck, guiding me to kiss her. I pressed my mouth to hers, wrapping my hand around her throat the longer we kissed. The kisses were so soft and gentle, giving me time to taste the strawberry flavour from Ellie’s lip gloss. We pulled away and she smiled so sweetly at me, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I just sighed deeply, this girl was something else.

I came prepared and grabbed blankets, a cooler and hoodies out of the trunk before we headed over to the beach. Ellie raised her eyebrows at me as I walked past her and found my normal spot was free. I laid the blanket down, Ellie put our food down and sat beside me. I pulled out two white claws, giving one to her as we dove into our food. “Who knew you were such a romantic.” Ellie smiled before taking a bite of her sushi. “This is better than any expensive restaurant.” “Good, I’m glad.” I replied, not taking my eyes off her. “That’s one of the biggest reasons why I love you.” She face flushed a little as she met my gaze, “what do you mean?” “I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you’re probably the first woman I’ve ever won over by being myself. You don’t have unrealistic expectations because of who I am, so I never felt like I needed to hide behind a mask.” I stuttered a little near the end, I was trying to tread lightly and not offend her by any means. “Noah, I fell for you because of your heart, and who are you are as a person off stage. Your band, your success, any money you make from all this comes secondary. Sure I met you because of your band but in another life if I just met you on the street and didn’t know who you were, I’d still be here ridiculously in love with you.” “Ridiculously huh?” I joked, nudging her arm. She smiled at me as I got closer to her, caressing her cheek and kissing her again. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to be all over her right now. Not even in a sexual way, just affectionally. My heart felt like it was going to burst because of her. “I love you Ellie.” “I love you more.” After we finished our food, we got cozy and watched the sunset together. The sky was so beautiful and reminded me of cotton candy with the shades of pink and blue. Ellie was nuzzled against my chest, listening to the sounds of seagulls in the distance along with the sound of each other’s heartbeats. I didn’t want this night to be over. The sun began to disappear and the sky glowed a dark blue, all I could see was Ellie’s bright eyes piercing through the darkness. As we got to the car, my phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, it was Jolly. “Hey man, we’re thinking of hitting up the pier in 30. Last night for Matt, both Nicks and Bryan in town. You two want to come?” “Hey Ellie do you want to head to the pier?” She just nods, polishing off her white claw before getting into the car. I pouted a little bit hoping she’d just want to go home, but this could be fun as well. I should also be thankful my friends love her as much as I do and want to include her in things. Before I got in the car I went to text Jolly back but I opened my conversation to Nick, taking a deep breath before I started typing. “I wanna marry this girl.”

[kirk-says-wah]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞

This was a request on ao3 ✨

- fluff

- pairing: Kirk/Dave

When Dave arrives at Kirk’s condo, he lets himself in, the flat quiet apart from some noises coming from the kitchen.

He can’t be arsed to take his shoes off, but dumps his bag by his feet before venturing further into the apartment.

He’s made it a habit of turning up at the flat unannounced, especially since Kirk had given him his own key a few weeks ago. Not that they talk about it. Ever.

Dave finds Kirk in the kitchen, making himself a cup a tea as he hums an unfamiliar tune. Dave stands in the doorway, just watching him, how his head slightly nods to the best, hands mimicking a guitar every now and then.

He finds himself smiling fondly, eventually managing to calm his face though because he can’t show his feelings, even if it’s Kirk. That’s what he tells himself, though he has a habit of not sticking to it.

He sneakily steps over, snakes his arms around Kirk’s unsuspecting waist making him jump, tea splattering onto the side.

“Ooops,” Dave says, nudging Kirk’s neck with his nose.

“Jeez man, don’t creep up on me like that,” Kirk says, wiping his hand on his jeans before turning in Dave’s hold to look up at him.

“You missing me, huh?” he says, looking up through his fringe.

Dave laughs, a hand coming up to fiddle with a black curl.

“Nah, I just thought I’d come round for free booze.”

Kirk huffs a laugh, punching his arm lightly, but Dave just leans down, pressing their lips together.

Kirk is warm, dressed in a Samhain tee and skinny jeans, standing on his tiptoes as he kisses Dave back, letting his tongue slide over soft lips.

When they break apart, Kirk grins, all goofy like, and Dave can’t help the smile that splits his face.

“What were you humming earlier?” he asks, and Kirk shrugs, turning back to finish stirring his tea.

“It’s nothing. Just something I’ve been working on.”

“Oh yeah?” Dave asks, resting an elbow against the counter, his face softening.

Kirk flicks him a shy look before shrugging again.

“You’re not stealing my solos again?” Dave teases. Kirk just pulls a face, finally drinking his tea.

“I think it will be good for the album,” Kirk says, putting his cup back down. “I’m just afraid James isn’t gonna like it.”

“James doesn’t fucking control you.” Dave can feel himself getting angry, but tries his best to push it down. It’s not Kirk’s fault, and he doesn’t want him to take the brunt of his anger.

Kirk stays unconcerned, rolling his eyes.

“I know that,” he says. “But it’s a riff I’ve been working on for a few years, and I really don’t know if I could handle him and Lars picking it apart.”

Dave sighs, reaches out, grabs Kirk by the hand, almost making him topple over as he’s yanked forwards.

“You’re fucking worth more than you think, Hammett,” Dave says gruffly, hand painfully tight around Kirk’s wrist for a second too long before he cools himself.

Kirk gives a lopsided smile, moves to wrap his arms around the redhead, rests his cheek against his chest.

“I love you, y’know.”

That takes Dave off guard. They’ve never said it before. They’ve never even talked about what they are.

But still, he can’t handle the flood of emotion that bombards him, hitting him square in the chest, drowning him quietly and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t-

But Kirk squeezes him gently, reaches up to kiss his jaw, and Dave realises he doesn’t need to reply.

Kirk already knows.

[lovelythegirl]

hi!! this is my first post and it’s a lil tibit based on my own personal experience and writing usually helps me release those anxieties and thoughts that I’m too scared to share aloud. I’m also not sure if I’m doing this right so please be nice and patient with me. <333

********

I’ve seemed to only run into him on fridays. Sitting in a pleather black couch in the second floor common area, a face mask adorned my mouth watching whatever the other girls streamed from netflix. Not that I paid attention to it. How could I? Though as nostalgic as they are, I’m not all that interested in rewatching those poorly animated Barbie movies from the 2000s as some of my floormates do. Yet, their company was better than none and spending the past six months in quarantine had me realize how much I hate being alone. Besides, I enjoy the ongoing commentary and shared laughter from that odd grouping of girls. It made the ongoing stress of my mental and academic health less daunting.

But back to him, I never planned it, it’s not as if I wait with my legs curled up on top of another as I rest my laptop on the meat of my thighs waiting for him to come through that heavy wooden door into the second floor. That divider between worlds since he was a third floor kid. We had a lot of mutual friends, and one of them has the reputation of being Ferris Bueller of the dorms with his door always open and booze always flowing. So it was common for anyone and everyone to stumble upon Daniels room on any given moment during friday and saturday nights.

Yet, when he comes into the common room no matter how bright that lumiating stark lights might be, he makes them shine brighter. So I’d sit on that black couch like I always seem to do during the evenings, with the same groups of girls, face mask on and a front row seat position to the second floor door. Skinny pop fresh and buttery in a mixing bowl on the coffee table in front of us. More laughter from The Princess and the Pauper as it plays on the big screen, the light tapping from the keys of my Macbook as I edit the last paragraph of my gendered studies paper, and through all the noise, there it is. Suddenly as it is almost expected, the heavy door of the second floor opens and my eyes, the only eyes paying attention, look up and there he is.

Oversized Football hoodie adorned on his body, jeans, and sneakers. I stand from the couch, and like a child greeting a parent after they’ve come home from work, I come towards the door.

“Jesse!” I call, and with mutual open arms I embrace him.

“How are you?” I would ask. He responds positively and asks the same of me. I’d tell him that I’ve been good as well, then we’d part ways. I’d go back to the pleather couch blushing through the RGB face mask and he’d walk his way to Daniel's room for the usual weekend kick back.

It never phased the girls I’d sit with. They would never question it. Eyes never leaving the screen and I liked it that way. Not that I was embarrassed about liking Jesse, there was nothing I was ashamed about when it came to my feelings for him. It was more about not being comfortable with talking about my infatuation because what if he gets word of it and doesn’t feel the same way? I’ve never been in a relationship before because I was never desirable enough for the generation I grew up with, the kids in my town. I was “too weird” or “too fat” for them to even give me the time of day. When I muster up the nerve to tell a crush that I’ve liked them, it always resulted in snickering or straight up grimaces. Growing into my new maturity physically and mentally, I knew my worth now as something beautiful, but part of me still feels blinded by others' attraction. Or even signs if someone even likes me back. Since I was so immune to it before, what if I’m over thinking or overlooking the signs? How do you really know if someone actually likes you back? There aren't enough questions for me to ask Wiki How to get the answers I need. I’d ask my friends but I’m embarrassed about how naive I am. They’re all beautiful women with their lists of past and current partners, and I have this irrational fear of them making fun of me. That I'm some prudent virgin. It sounds silly, trust me I’m very aware. If these girls made fun of me, then they’re not really my friends are they? However those thoughts still linger and somehow I’m oddly comfortable with the embracement of his arms and the “hi, how are you?” between us. Never wanting it to go further, because I don’t want to lose what I have. Don’t want to lose that comfortability between us into something more for the fear of the “what ifs.” What if he’s just a nice guy, what if he doesn’t like me back, what if he likes someone else. I keep myself steady into what I already know. Which is a warm hug and short conversation once a week where I wait until the next friday for him to come down to the second floor and into Daniel’s room.

Yet there are weekends where I would randomly see him later on in the evening where we’re both a tad inebriated off of cheap liquor and watered down beer. Our conversations would drift more loosely, but come the next day I couldn’t remember what we talked about, only that I knew that I talked to Jesse the night before, and I would wake up with a terrible hangover and a loose smile on my face. Drunk on him, hoping that maybe he feels the same way.

[theperfectblonde]

Tumblr camera is shit lol but I did 28 minutes. For maybe two of those I did a light jog at like 5… so that was my big step for the day 😂

Slowly trying to work my way up because my muscles are so weak and I’ve lost basically all my strength and cardio. Even walking makes my chest tight sometimes. It’s shitty not being able to push myself the way that I used to, but I can see small improvements every day. I’m going to try and keep it that way so that when I go back home in another week, I’ll be able to go on a daily walk AND a daily jog.

My left leg used to feel like it was cramping at the knee constantly from being bent sitting all the time I think, and my ankles used to ache. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was annoying and it was constant. After being consistent with walking for only a few days now I’ve noticed that I hardly feel it at all. Getting the blood flowing feels like it’s taken it away.

Today was also the first time in probably a year where I’ve woken up and I felt genuinely refreshed. I got a solid 7 hours of sleep and didn’t sleep in, and although I had a tiny nap I’m actually going to go to bed on time tonight I think??

I’ve been eating pretty clean also, and even though I’m tired it’s a different kind of tired. Like I’ve EARNED being tired, instead of waking up tired. Its not much of a difference, and yet it’s noticeable and it feels so good.

As much as I want to get skinny again, the core of losing weight for me has always been to be healthy. Obviously I fail at that pretty often on either end of the spectrum lmao. My mindset though is that it doesn’t matter what I look like aesthetically in the sense that it doesn’t have to be perfect - I just have to be happy with it, but most importantly I have to FEEL good. Looking good while feeling like shit honestly just isn’t worth it. I’m trying to balance that out still.

But…. I’m busting out of my jeans. So…. Obviously we’re leaning more towards one end. But this is maybe my like… idk 3rd time coming back to this blog? And my SW is significantly lower than every time I’ve tried. I’m just going to be casual about it and not push myself so hard, because my baseline is so wildly different this time around.

Just gentle and consistent and clean. I am… tempted to go weigh myself tomorrow morning after going to the bathroom in an empty stomach to see where I’m at - but I already know I’m not going to be happy with the number. I really really don’t want to see it, because I know it’ll make me feel like shit.

But looking in the mirror - I feel like I need to know it, so I know what my limit is. I feel like for the rest of my life, this is the biggest I will ever want to be. This is the weight where I don’t feel good looking at my body in the mirror. It’s not bad, but it doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel proud or sexy looking back at myself.

So… I’m still thinking about it… but maybe I need to know. Maybe I’ll take a photo and not look at the scale and then look at it at a later date when I’ve lost a little more…? Cause then it won’t feel so bad.

We’ll see how I feel tomorrow. All I know is that being away from my boyfriend’s family has given me a sense of ease and peace that I really need to get back to, and it’s letting me finally do what I need to do. I desperately need my own place, but everything’s falling through.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

280 of 2023

Hot; bold if you agree. 1. I listen to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. 2. I can play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder. 3. I don’t like hot dogs. 4. Hot pockets are gross. 5. I’ve said “That’s hot”. 6. I have been told to wait a “hot second”. 7. Hot chocolate > Hot tea. 8. I’ve listened to Cobra’s Starship’s CD: Hot Mess 9. I have ridden in a Hot Air Balloon. 10. I would rather be considered a “cutie” than a “hottie”.

Cold; bold if you agree. 1. I hate being cold. 2. I currently have a cold. 3. Ice cream is my favorite dessert. 4. I don’t drink enough water. 5. I have visited or stayed in an Ice Hotel. 6. I would rather go somewhere cold for a vacation. 7. I wouldn’t do much for a Klondike bar. 8. Snow is overrated. 9. Winter is my least favourite season. 10. I have been given the cold shoulder.

Yes; bold if currently, you would say “yes” to these questions. 1. “Should you be doing something else?” 2. “Do you listen to the radio?” (lol) 3. “Have you ever left the country you live in?” 4. “Are bolding surveys your favorite type of surveys?” 5. “Do you think you will ever like a U.S. President?” 6. “Is your favourite food a type of junk food?” 7. “Is your favourite band currently performing?” 8. “Have you ever cried watching a Disney movie over the age of 15?” 9. “Do you ever wonder if you would be friends with fictional characters?” 10. “Do you ever get paranoid that your dreams are telling you something you don’t want them to?”

No; I do not have… Touch-screen phone Skinny jeans Coffee maker Red nail polish Job Curling iron Tissues Ice cube trays Bulletin boards Apples to Apples (what is that even?)

In; I have been in… The White House A limousine A museum in Chicago The set of a movie or television show A wax museum A haunted house A long line A midnight release An opera house or theatre

Out; I like these outdoor activities bike riding roller blading ice skating walking a dog hiking swimming tanning kayaking playing sports rock climbing

Up; I like… balloons clouds ceiling fans rain snow Chinese lanterns Stars Planetariums Kites Birds

Down; these things bring me down, bold if you agree. Oversleeping Staining or tearing a piece of clothing Getting ditched Sold out tickets Movies with sad endings Books with endings Being a third wheel Not knowing anyone at an event When a restaurant is out of what you’re ordering Seeing a friend upset

Wrong; I have been wrongly accused of… Being upset with someone Breaking something Finishing the rest of a food or drink Knowing important information and not sharing it Witnessing something Laughing at something that wasn’t funny Forgetting to do a chore Holding out on someone Stealing Cheating on someone

Right; to my right, there’s… A television An alarm clock A beverage A candy A towel Christmas/hanging lights Someone else in the room A wall A window A pillow

Black; I like… James Bond Batman Men in Black Rock n’ Roll Harry Potter Night Time Graduation Orchestras Oreos Bowling Snow Days Letters Cotton Balls Teeth Macbooks Sugar Weddings Masquerades Ghosts

Fight; I have participated in, or I would like to be in a… Gang fight Gladiator fight Cat fight Wrestling Match Dance Off Medieval Battle Kung Fu Fight Wizarding Duel Civil War Yo Momma Fight

Break Up; Reasons I would break up with a significant other. Being paranoid of your friends of the opposite gender. Forgetting my birthday. Kissing or anything more sexual with another female (or male) Putting his friends before me. Making an important decision without my input. Going somewhere that would cause us to have a long-distance relationship. Being addicted to a video/computer game. Having bad hygiene. Forgetting to call often, or not texting me enough.

Kiss; I have been kissed… In the rain. In the snow. In a body of water. In a different city. Goodnight. In a vehicle. In a bathroom. In a doorway. For a photo. Good morning.

[neon-junkie]

Why can’t this be Love? - Chpt.1

Summary: You've never really fit in, despite trying, despite being on the cheerleading team, despite awkwardly socialising with the popular crowd. It's not for you - these people aren't for you. Yet, you don't know how to escape! Do you continue following a dead end? Or finally break away?

The answer is made for you after your 'date,' a boy on the basketball team, bails on you, and uninvites you from some stupid basketball after party. Whatever, that's fine. But what's not fine is the agonisingly long walk home. Oh, in the dark, late at night!

However, your saviour finds you, and not only does he save you from walking home alone, but the conflicting feelings that you've spent the last few years with.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Cheerleader Reader

Reader Description: Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Not much detail is given about her appearance, other than she wears heavy eyeliner, and is clearly an outcast that is trying to fit in.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Slow burn, Awkward flirting, Drinking, Angst, Comfort, Generic High School Bullying, Denial of feelings, Feelings realisation.

[Chapter 2]  [Read on AO3]

Notes: oh my gooddddd. EDDIE!!! AHHHHHH!!!! hes so fucking cute!!!!!!!! this man has brought me out of my writers block that i've been suffering with for MONTHS.

I haven't written anything for ST before, so sorry if anything is out of character. I also have no fucking clue how American schools work, so I'm going to avoid mentioning it at all costs. The schooling system in the UK is waaaay different!!

This is set a good couple of months before S4 starts. Fic title is inspired by a Van Halen song hehe.

Anyway, enjoy. This is gonna be a series. IDK how long it'll be, but we'll see where this freak takes us!

Chapter 1 - Curbside Collection

Boys.

Stupid boys.

Stupid boys, or specifically, a singular boy, that has bailed on you after tonight's first-of-the-year basketball game.

Really, what did you expect?

"I want to spend tonight with the guys," your date had said. "You can get a ride home with Misty, right?" he asked, referring to your friend - your friend that hadn't even come to tonight's game, considering she isn't into the sport, let alone in with the 'popular crowd.'

Not that you are, either.

Cheerleading is something that your parents pushed on you, back in Middle school, back when they thought their "darling little girl" was somewhat ordinary. Back when you hadn't discovered rock music, Lord of the Rings, and skinny jeans.

But, oh god, you would never show those things to your parents! To them, you're their perfect high grade daughter, who's excelling in her classes, and attends cheerleading training twice a week.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that you were the 'weirdo' of the bunch, the strange girl that is always shoved into the heaviest point of the cheer pyramid, carrying everyone's weight, whilst those on top get all the praise for their "fantastic tricks!"

Regardless, despite your heavy eyeliner and brooding expression, you somehow managed to catch the attention of a boy on the basketball team. It was probably a dare, which would explain why he's bailing on you now, leaving you to walk a few miles home, alone, in the dark...

Fuck!

After zipping up your jacket, you begin your soon-to-be exhausting walk home - a walk that would have been far quicker in your 'dates' car. At least it's not cold tonight; there's a slight chill to the September air, but you'll soon warm up once you get moving, and maybe when you crack open one of the few ciders in your backpack. The ciders that were meant to be saved for tonight's after party, but it seems you're uninvited...

A bottle of cider is pulled from your backpack, and once the chilled bottle comes to rest in the palm of your hand, you suddenly realise that you don't have anything to open it with. Fuck. Can God give you a break already?!

Your mind trails back to a trick you saw a few months ago, where one of the basketball lads opened a bottle using the side of the curb. You wander another street onwards before deciding to attempt that trick, wanting to be out of view of the school, and your classmates, who thankfully live in the opposite direction to you.

One knee meets the gravelled road as you crouch down, bringing the bottle of cider into position. You let out an uneasy sigh as you remember how that guy did it; he used the heel of his hand to crack the cap against the curb, and after a few attempts, the cap popped right off. Of course, he called it "easy," but after your first few attempts, the cap is definitely not budging, and your hand is slowly starting to throb with every hit.

"For fuck’s sake," you curse as you hit it one more time, desperate for the taste of lukewarm cider, a stranger that'll keep you company on your painful walk home.

One more hit, and you let out a grumble as you give up. Your head rolls back to the sky, and whilst still in cheerleader uniform, you let out a soft, "fuck," cursing God (or whatever is up there) for not letting you have a drink on the walk home.

That's when a chuckle catches your attention, and you lock sights with the last person you'd ever expect to interact with.

"Are you trying to open it? Is that what you're trying to do?" Eddie Munson asks with a cheeky smile on his lips. He's leaning against a lamp post, mere meters away from you. His arms are crossed, with one hand fiddling with the ends of his curly hair, almost as if he's nervous, but covering it up.

Eddie is, from what you've seen, a strange guy. And you don't just mean because he likes rock music, and plays D&D. Oh, no, there's something about this man that isn't quite right. Trauma? Perhaps? Shit, maybe you two have something in common.

You've never interacted, minus a brief interaction a few days ago. Your 'date' had shot him a degrading comment after passing him in the halls, and Eddie had responded with a laugh, and a comment that had you almost in tears.

"Your jeans are always so tight, Munson. No wonder your dick's so small, it must be suffocating in there," your date had sneered. A weak comment, but whatever, you just wanted to get to your next lesson, but someone was eager for a fight. It must have been his hormones acting up, or just boys being boys.

Eddie, despite being on his own, a lone wolf without the company of his misfits, had chuckled as he chalked up his reply. "Oh, he's just fine. He's a little sore right now," Eddie replied.

Your date raised his brow, and Eddie continued his comeback. "I mean, fucking your mom is a tiring chore, but someone has to do it, right? Which is why I'm able to fit in these tight jeans."

You couldn't help but laugh. A 'your mom' joke? Classic.

Your date shot you a disgusted glance, and hey, maybe that's the reason why he ditched you tonight. Maybe it's been sitting on his mind this whole time - his beloved cheerleader had giggled at a joke that the freak Munson has cast. How sensitive!

Coming back to the present, you let out a defeated, "yeah."

Eddie chuckles once more, although you know he's not laughing at you, but rather, with you. "I'm surprised your boyfriend isn't here to thirst your quench," Eddie comments with a shrug.

"Boyfriend," you scoff under your breath. "He's never been my boyfriend, especially not now."

Eddie looks genuinely sympathetic, and bridges the space between you two with a few lanky strides. "I take it you really need that drink then, huh?"

A nod is all you need. No puppy dog eyes, no heart-warming story. Eddie takes the bottle from your grasp, and pops the cap off by using one of his chunky rings, rather than the curb. He smiles as you take a large gulp, instantly feeling a buzz throughout your body, despite it being no more than 4% alcohol.

Placing the bottle down on the curb, you swing your backpack over your shoulder once more, and say, "here," as you pull out another cider, and offer it to Eddie.

"Are you sure?" Eddie questions, only to be taken back as you shove the cider into his hands.

He pops the cap off his own cider, and grins before taking a gulp. "Here," Eddie repeats as he offers you his hand, pulling you up from your awkward gremlin pose, now with an open bottle of cider in your hand. Your backpack is slung over your shoulders, and a small gust of wind follows the movement, dancing along the hemline of your skirt - a minor movement, but you're certain Eddie's eyes trailed down there before meeting yours.

"So..." Eddie groans. "Do I dare ask where your 'not boyfriend' is?"

"Probably at the after party. I dunno," you shrug.

Eddie's thumb reassuringly rubs over the back of your knuckles, and only then do both of you realise that your hand is still in his. You both break away, begrudgingly, but hey, maybe it's for the best? The freak holding hands with the weirdo cheerleader is a rumour that'd spread like hot fire around the school, and you don't fancy dealing with the backlash.

"Woah, hang on," Eddie nervously laughs as he raises his spare hand. "You mean, you've been uninvited to the after party? Or are you refusing to attend?"

"Your first assumption was right," you shrug, and take a swig from your drink. "Well, I think I was?"

Eddie remains quiet, but raises both brows with a gesture that silently reads, 'go on.'

After grumbling, you begin explaining. "I don't know what happened. Tonight was normal, or as normal as it can be. I was cheering, and he was playing basketball, but as soon as the game was over, he approached me, and said that he wanted to spend tonight with his friends..."

Eddie nods softly, listening to you ramble, using him like a therapist, still standing on your lonesome on the side of the road.

"...His friends were in the background, and they were... laughing. I just accepted it and left. When I went to change out of my uniform, the other girls were also laughing, so I didn't bother changing. I just grabbed my bag and left."

Your eyes focus on the floor as you let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as disappointment takes over, and there's faint tears brewing in the corner of your eyes. Despite not being able to see Eddie's expression, you can feel sympathy radiating from him, and in a wild daydream, you'd throw yourself into his arms in hopes of finding comfort.

Little do you know, Eddie would happily comfort you.

"So..." Eddie heavily exhales, bringing your attention back to him. "Let me walk you home, then."

Your expression softens, no longer casting an imaginary scowl at your ex-not-boyfriend. Eddie Munson, the freak, has not only helped you open your cider, and listened to your therapy worthy rant, but also wants to walk you home?!

Obviously, you're going to accept his kind gesture. Being a woman has waaaaay too many flaws, and walking home alone is one of the main ones. Having Eddie there almost eliminates that target, even if Eddie is lanky, and only fights using the roll of a dice.

However, what is going to come of this if someone sees you two? A cheerleader and a freak, walking home together, joint ciders in hand. Fuck, both of you are going to get it in the neck, and probably from the same bunch of people. Social circles aren't meant to cross, especially opposite ones, but you've never really fit into the 'popular' squad.

"You're more than welcome to say 'no,'" Eddie sheepishly comments, his eyes trailing from yours to focus on his cider instead.

Shit. You moron! You haven't even responded!

"No. I mean, yes! I'd love for you to walk me home, but do you live this way? I don't want you going out of your way to-"

"-Yeah," Eddie cuts you off. "Sure, I live this way," he shrugs.

Ugh, he's lying!! However, you don't fancy rejecting his offer - not only is it a bonus to walk home with someone, but he's also so... interesting. Entreating. Perhaps even... cute? With that curly, untamed hair, and his lanky frame that reminds you of a baby deer attempting to walk for the first time.

"Come on, Princess," Eddie says with a light laugh as he takes a few strides forwards, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Let's get you home!"

Taglist: @bubblegumcat229​, @buckys2thicc​

If you would like to join the taglist, then please drop me a message!!

[erodasfishtacos]

has harry ever come before yn? and how did he react to it

warning: um this is straight up filth, sorry (not sorry)

CEO!H

-

“Baby, c’mon,” He huffs in frustration, his thumb slips once again because she’s just so wet for him.

“M’trying!” YN bites back, “You’re expecting me to come in two seconds all because you got yourself worked up by rubbing your dick on my tattoo.”

Harry can’t deny even after a few years of the ink being on his wife’s bum doesn’t make it any less hot to him.

It takes one more harsh pump of his hips before he’s groaning and coming, his fingers faltering on her bud once again.

YN is whining - these displeased, spoiled little noises that prickle the skin on the back of his neck and grit of his teeth.

“Y’sucha god damn brat,” Her husband spits out, not even enjoying his release because of his impatient, perfect wife.

“M’not,” YN retorts as she flips onto her back and lays down, not even disgusting her pout.

“Out of the hundreds and hundreds of times I’ve fucked you and made sure y’finished first - the one time y’dont you want to get all huffing and bent out of shape.”

YN squints at him, because he’s not wrong, she chooses to bite back with a bit of attitude, “Well you had some clumsy fingers tonight.”

Harry barks out a laugh, spreading her legs roughly, and muttering, “I’ll fuckin’ show clumsy fingers.”

Then continues on to make her come twice if his fingers along just because.

-

MLBrry

“Oh my god,” YN giggles loudly when Harry curses as he spills inside her - legitimately after only about three minutes of being in her.

“Shut up,” He whines, ego bruised a bit as he pulls out with a look of betrayal at his already softening cock, “Y’looked so good in m’jersey at the game tonight. Flauntin’ y’tits like tha’.”

YN smirks widely, turning around from where he had her bent over their bathroom counter, “I know, I saw how many times you had to ‘adjust’ yourself in your uniform.”

Harry hauls her up until her bum’s on the cold marble and her legs are spread to show him where she’s dripping from him.

“Can’t help it. It’s nearly impossible not to come the second I’m in you,” He pouts, it was the truth - usually he had amazing stamina but every once in a while his body was a traitor.

YN let’s out a quiet sigh when he tucks two fingers back inside her, twisting and curling in the way that make her toes crinkle.

“You amaze me. I’ve given you four babies and y’still as horny as ever,” YN giggles pleased and confident because of her husband’s constant want for her.

Harry pushes forward to lick into her warm, sweet mouth before he’s resting his forehead against hers and watching his fingers work into her perfect heat.

“Only horny f’you, mama. Course s’just for my wife, m’so fuckin’ in love with you. In love with your body, this beautiful thing has given us our babies - how could I not be obsessed?”

YN comes panting in his mouth and a smug smile on her face when he hardens back up against her thigh in the process.

—

Deaf!Harry

Harry’s lips are bright pink and swollen, his narrow hips pushed against the tiny counter in the frat bathroom as YN kneels in front of him.

“Baby, baby, want to fuck you. If you blow me I’ll come,” He signs in warning, attempting to coerce her into standing up but she doesn’t budge.

Her hands are quick on his belt and skinny jeans, letting his thick length rest towards his tummy as she leans forward to lick at the head.

He wasn’t joking, right as she suckles harshly on the head with her hand stroking the rest - he flexes and released with a loud loud moan.

“Didn’t know my mouth was that good,” YN gestures as she stands up with a teasing lift to her lips, thumbing a lose drop.

“You know when you grind on me it gets me going,” He accuses to justify his short span, “Don’t act like you don’t come in a second when I have my mouth on your clit and three fingers up in you.”

YN swallows harshly at the dirty talk, startling when someone bangs on the door, stating the need to use the toilet.

“I’m totally telling Niall you came in legit two minutes,” YN signs before swinging up the door and disappearing into the crowd - leaving behind her flabbergasted boyfriend.

—

Vamprry

“My leg is cramping, H,” YN complains noisily as he keeps her leg lifted a she fucks in from behind as they lay on the bed.

Harry is so so close.

His annoying little creature wasn’t going to find her end because of a god damn leg cramp.

“Bat, just let me - oh fuck,” Harry snarls loudly as he can’t control himself any longer, fucking harshly into her a few more time before he comes.

Ad soon as he’s lowering her leg, he’s met by her displeased, grumpy whimpers that make him want to bite her until she’s limp or kiss her sweetly - sometimes he can’t tell which.

He drops her leg, planning to finish her off but she pushes his hand away which has him baring his fangs and snarling fiercely at her.

“No, I’ll finish myself,” She grunts, rolling onto her back and propping up her legs, one hooked over Harry’s thigh.

Every time he tries to reach over to help as she rubs quickly and precisely at her bud with short puffs of air - she smacks him off which makes him hiss angrily as he watches on.

“You’re like a million years older and you can’t control yourself still?” YN teases breathlessly as she feels a ball of fire start to pool in her stomach.

Her grin gets wider when his eyes blacken and his lip curls completely back to reveal his glimmering white canines.

“Pest, you are not doing it correctly. Let me make you come,” Harry demands with agitation, his hands clenching to not just grab her.

“Shut up,” She snaps back, two fingers rubbing in languid circles that have her hips bucking - it really shouldn’t turn her on that her vamp boyfriend is threatening her with his fangs.

“I rarely ever come before you. Please little human, you are annoying me and I wish to make you come now,” Harry tries to use a more gentle tone.

YN finally gives in, letting him take over with his own fingers, two tucking inside and his thumb right on her nerves.

His fangs ascend back into in gums as he admires his squirmy mate who is restless until she tense and releases on his hand.

It’s only a matter of second before she is coaxing his fangs back out - because she loves to torment him, “Better luck next time champ.”

“Enough,” He growls at an ear-shattering volume before he’s biting at her mating mark to get her to submit.

Works everyday.

—

Influencer!H

Harry was getting himself overly worked up, as soon as YN pressed record for a little something that she could watch when she had to leave tour for two weeks.

“Honey bee, c’mon,” Harry rasps, voice as deep as it goes as he sits in the armchair in their hotel room - legs spread and feet planted on the floor.

“Hold on, just want a shot of this,” She replies, he was so fucking hot - couldn’t grasp that this man was her’s sometimes.

He had a firm, lazy grip on his cock - thumb circling his extremely sensitive tip every so often which made him shutter.

“Slower, tease yourself,” YN murmurs as she films him, watching raptly as he slows down his strokes but fucks up into his hand.

“Want t’be in you, bee,” Harry tells his with a wrinkle between his eyebrows as he twitches in his palm.

“Then listen to me,” She orders in a voice she rarely uses - a authorative voice that has Harry moaning as he squeezes himself.

“M’listenin’, I promise.”

“Stop,” YN replies, eyes following when he releases his grip and it sways before resting on his taut belly - pink and swollen.

She props the camera on the desk, shimmying down her underwear, and straddling him on the chair - letting herself sink down.

“Oh fuck - baby, m’gonna - bloody hell,” He moans as he comes within seconds, hand squeeze her plush hips.

His forehead is sweaty, lips puffy, and YN is so pleased with him, whispering that he’s so fucking good for her, she can’t wait to watch it when she’s away.

-

Cheating!H

“Y’takin’ it so good, darlin’,” Harry grunts out, teeth gritted and hand grasping her jaw to keep her mouth against his.

YN was in a mood tonight.

“C’mon, we don’t have much time before Anna comes looking, H,” YN goads coyly, her plush hips digging into the counter where her bum is pressed against.

“Hush up, pup,” Harry scolds, biting at her swollen bottom lip before hiking her up a bit more to hit her spot right on.

“She’s gonna be so bummed, y’can’t get it up for her tonight after fucking me,” YN doesn’t stop with the filth.

“Y’act like I have ever fucked ‘er. I’ve only been givin’ it t’you for the past ten years,” He mutters, tongue licking into her mouth to shut her up.

When someone knocks on the door, they don’t stop, Harry determined as he pounds into her with hard, meaningful strokes.

“Harry, are you in there? Are you feeling alright?” Anna asks from the other side of the door - it was super loud because of the party.

He comes right then on the spot.

“You’re sick,” YN giggles, pleased as he pumps in a few more times to fill her up - claiming her as he always did.

—

Gang!H

It started with the god damn fucking teasing.

Rival gang members, the police, literally nobody gets under his skin - just his bloody nuisance of a wife and she took full advantage.

She got in these moods were she would fuck with him, tease him, wind him up until he had her pinned down with a sore arse.

He loved her so fucking much.

It started at the bar, she had leaned over with way too much cleavage on display as she fluttered her eyes to get men to buy her a drink.

Harry who was currently in the middle of a lucrative deal couldn’t concentrate as a man offered to buy her a glass of wine.

He didn’t care who saw, he excused himself and pushed her harshly into the bar until it would bruise her hips.

“Cut it the fuck out now, m’busy,” He hisses menacingly in her ear, ignoring the men who were staring wide eyes at the exchange.

Her hand comes back to subtly palm at his crotch before humming, “All these nice men are willing to pay attention to me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry rumbles, gripping her wrist and moving it away from his groin with force.

“Whoa, man! You can’t talk to a lady like that!” A brunette gentleman squawks after watching the interaction.

Harry steps back, a sly smile rising the corner of his lips, and he purposefully lifts his shirt just a bit to flash a shining gold desert eagle tucked in his waistband.

The man’s eyes widen in horror which makes Harry chuckle darkly, “Don’t tell me how to treat m’fuckin’ brat of a wife, she fuckin’ loves it anyways.”

With that, Harry storms back to continue his meeting and YN grins, a little flushed as she sips on a glass of water - aroused beyond belief.

After a bit, YN disappears down the hallway to the restroom, and sends Harry a text that has him excusing herself.

Please help me. Woman’s bathroom, hurry.

Harry’s reaching back for his gun, not hesitation as he rushes down the hallway - heart pounding at the thought of his love in trouble.

He slams open the single stall bathroom, gun drawn but all he sees is his beautiful wife, on her knees with lust obvious in her body language.

“Y’tha’ fuckin’ desperate?” Harry scoffs, locking the door and placing his gun on the counter - already reaching for his belt and zipper.

“Please sir.”

It sends a harsh, electric zip down his spine as he hisses when his wet tip hits the cold air, he bends down first - forces her mouth open and spits.

But his words are soft and loving after, “Brat, love you s’much. Y’the love of m’life.”

Her eyes twinkle but she can’t speak because he’s guiding himself in her mouth with a long push that has her breathing heavily through her nose.

Harry surprises himself when he ends up spilling right after she pulls off for a breath and jerks him, rasping out, “I love living life with you.”

Yeah he comes at words and he isn’t fucking ashamed.

It has him pushing her up against the wall and licking her out until she’s teary from sensitivity and legs quivering pathetically.

-

👁👄👁

[stickynotestoletters]

Izuku x Male Reader Smut

I'm a dirty slut, so .... yeah

Women DNI please :3

Warnings: you push friend boundaries in the fic but Izuku likes it so it's fine, bottom reader, top izuku, buff tan izuku, big tiddy izuku, God kink apparently, degradation, he calls you puppy, a bit of simp Izuku, breeding kink

Izuku wasn't a simp, okay? He was kind, he was courteous and pleasant to be around! But he always had boundaries with his friends and loved ones. Well....until he met you.

You see, Izuku had a not-so-obvious crush on you (shut it Bakugou). Ever since he met you at UA he kind of let you push any and all boundaries that he had put in place with his friends.

Now don't get the wrong idea! At first, when you both met in your first year at UA it was just little stuff! Like, using his clothes or borrowing a pillow. I mean that's what friends are for right? At least that’s what you told him.

He thought maybe he just needed to chill out and let loose his rules a bit. So you were a little friendlier about how you acted around him as opposed to your other friends, so what?

He could make an exception this once and that would be it!

But then you started getting even more comfortable.

And it was good! He was happy you were comfortable around him! It made his heart fly!

You were being a little touchier with him and it was just friendly stuff. Laying your head on his shoulder and in his lap or even just stroking his hair while you cuddle, but that's fine!

He likes it, he always has and always will!

You ask permission the first time you do these things and how could he resist sitting in the arms of a gorgeous man like you?

Then it stays that way for a while a little after UA.

You get a little bold every once in a while after that but it's nothing he can't handle.

He's working out and doing hero work so he has more things to focus on than his not so little crush anymore.

Even if he stays up at night thinking about all those touches. Thinking about your chapped lips and smooth skin beneath his hands. Thinking about your hands and how much he likes them. Likes them in his hair, massaging his shoulders. How much more he would like them if you tangled them in his hair and pull on it as he's fucking you into his mattress. How much he'd then like it for you to yell and scream his name as he absolutely pounds you into his sheets. How much he wants you to cry and scream his name until the neighbors bring noise complaints and you have a sore throat the next day from it.

So yeah. He doesn't have the time.

Until one night you show up to his door. It's late, almost 4 in the morning, about 2 hours after he comes home from his agency, and he just hears these little knocks on the door. He thinks it's the rain at first until he gets a text from you asking him if he's up and if you could come in.

He's almost dressed and ready for bed but for you, he'd sacrifice any amount of sleep to make sure you're okay at any time of the night.

He opens his door to find you drenched from the rain. And he means soaked. You're shivering in these nice little skinny jeans and a white T-shirt. You're sobbing and your hair is spilling water onto his doormat. "Hey Izuku, is it-is it okay if I come in?"

He can hear just how congested you are, it seems like you've been crying for a while. "Yeah, just let me-let me get you a towel, are you okay?" You start sobbing in front of him and he gives you the towel as he comes back."Never mind, that was obviously a stupid question, come on in and go get a shower."

You're nice and warm by the time you come back to the kitchen, he's made you shower and given you some food. So now you two sit down on his couch and he holds you close to him. he's not saying anything and neither are you, but you know he wants you to talk about it."So, I kinda had a breakdown about some relationship stuff right now." You guys laughed at the obviousness of it.

"Did you want to talk about it?" He looks at you laying down on his chest, tangling your legs with his, in his shirt, in his pants. God he wished you would-

"Kinda, I don't have to if you don't want me to." He shook his head to the sides and you sighed deeply," I knew you would say that, okay, it's kinda embarrassing if I'm being honest."

He laughed at you, "Nothing could be more awkward and embarrassing for me to listen to than when you told me, in detail, about your crush on Bakugou." You contorted your face in distaste at him and he just kept laughing.

"Bakugou is hot and I stand by all that I said asshole." You shook your head. "But I was very embarrassing."

It got quiet again and you put your face in the crook of his neck. "So, I figured out that I ....fuck okay so...." You move back to face him and stare at him in the eyes. "Don't laugh but I realized I only want a sexual relationship with someone at the moment. I started crying because I felt like I'd been lying to myself and I've just been under a lot of stress lately." Your blush is not less bright than his at all and he can't do anything but avoid your pretty little face looking at him than to push you into his chest and look up at his wonderfully beautiful ceiling he's never had the time to admire before this.

"You could have said that to me without the weird eye contact but whatever, go on."

You laugh hysterically, a little high on your emotions, "Okay hear me out. I'm a hero right? And using a loved one as leverage is a very classic villain plan. So I thought that was why I didn't want a relationship. Now I figured out it's just the stress! I want something like that eventually but right now? I just want something with someone to destress."

You move your head up to look at him and he moves his hand away from the back of your head, his emotions are going haywire right now. What is he supposed to say to that??? Do you want him to find someone for you to hook up with or???? And then he realizes-"I am not setting you up with Bakugou-"

"-OH MY GOD SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY IT WAS A ONE-TIME THING." You shake your head and laugh incredulously at him. "I'm allowed to be attracted to people who aren't good for me okay? Is it really that bad?" Izuku rolls his eyes at you, "Yes. Yes, it is."

You roll your eyes back at him," Whatever that's not what I wanted to ask anyway." you scooch up onto his chest a bit more and put your hands under your chin as you look into his eye with your best pleading face." Would you do me the honor of being my destresser?"

He could explode right now.

Like seriously what?

".....You want me to what now???"

"Would you rather I phrase it differently?"

"To make sure we're on the same page yes-"

"Fuck the stress out of me buff man."

"Jesus Christ." He practically lifts you off of him like a doll,"If you were going to prank me like this," he sets you onto his couch and walks to his bathroom to go wash the heat off his face, "do it over text next time."

You follow him into the bathroom," It's not a prank! I'm for real okay? Look-" he looks puts his head further near the sink, he doesn't want you to see his red face,"-the way I see it is we're both busy as fuck. We both are mature adults looking for something intimate, which you have not found yet may I add, that could both put someone in danger otherwise." He scrubs his face and takes a deep breath, turning his water off and looking at you calmly.

"Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second of all, why me then?" He knows he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but he's not going to do this if it's just for the fun. He wants to actually mean something to you other than someone to fuck. "You could have chosen any one of our other friends. So why me?"

You grab his hands and lift them to your lips,"Izuku, I care about you so much. You're one of my closest and best friends in the entire world and I am so lucky to have you. You have supported me in any way you possibly could, and I hope that I've done the same for you. So I want us to support each other as much as we need in this." You look him in the eyes," Plus you could snap me in half and are one of the only people I could fight that has the stamina to keep going at me."

".....you're so fucking lucky I like you. Fine! Okay fine."

"YES!"

So for the rest of the night(morning?), you two plan out how this is going to work. Rules, boundaries, kinks (by god he's going to need a break), and what times you guy can and can't.

It works well actually. Better than Izuku expected. He's just ecstatic he gets to finally hold you.......until he doesn't.

Now Izuku knows you two discussed boundaries and the fact you can call each other practically any time but for the next week, he seriously couldn't get the mind power to just swallow his fears and call you up. Not to say he wasn't thinking of you, by god he did that every single day even more since then, he just didn't want to bother you.

But then you called him. It was 11 pm and you were very horny. He picked up the phone and immediately just, "Hello?"

"I need you to plow me into my mattress it's been a week, come over as soon as you can, I'll be waiting sir-"

And that was the end of the call. Your house is like 20 minutes away from his but he somehow made it there in 10. He didn't even text you he was coming, so you thought he was busy.

So you were just on your couch, scrolling on your phone until a rushed knock at the door, you opened it, and were immediately kissed on the mouth.

Just a whole ass surprise makeout, he holds you up in his arms and pushes you against the door. You pull away to breathe and just look down to see this large monster of a man pressing his massive chest to yours, heaving so out of breath like he'd just ran a marathon (he practically did). Just staring up at you so desperately, you're not going to lie it was a nice view. You laugh a bit hysterically as he kisses you repeatedly. Then he works his way to your neck, still holding you up with his arms but fondling your chest and ribcage. He nips your neck and sucks so hard you're sure to have some nice little hickies in the morning. You moan as he pulls on your nipples and rubs your pecs in his hands.

Your mind goes fuzzy as you hear him whisper, "Dirty little slut left me with nothing after your little call. Think it was funny?" He kisses your neck again, licking down to your collar bone, "Think it's funny to leave me with nothing? Just the thought of this dirty little pup begging me to come over?"

You moan into a laugh at the fact he seems more desperate for this than you are. "Laughing now are we?" You immediately quiet down, his hands travel to your waist, and grinds his leg into your crotch.

"Oh gods-" He pushes into you again as you moan,"-f-fuck!"

"Damn puppy. Didn't know you had such a dirty little mouth. Why don't you show me how you use that little mouth when I actually get started with you."

He takes you into your bedroom, pressing your hard dick against his own and sucking on your neck even more.

You pant heavily onto his shoulder shaking from anticipation as he brings you into your room.

He pushes you down on the bed into a folded missionary position. You're hazy and in hysterics, as he talks more, "God, look at you! What a fucking slut for me. Come on puppy look me in the eyes and tell me what you want."

You look up and his smile is devious. It's alluring. He's practically ravishing you with his eyes. He’s taking your clothes off and feeling you up, “Your tastey skin, so smooth and soft. Do you know what I’m gonna do to it puppy?” Your head is swimming with full unbridled warmth and lust, you can’t even respond so he takes your face in his hands and makes you look at him,” I’m gonna mark you up so well, give you all the hickies and bites I want to put on you until you’re barely unbruised. How does that sound?”

You yell out, “Yes! YES! Puppy will be good for you please? Want it so bad.” He laughs at your responses, leaving your naked body vibrating on the bed and he moves away to take his own clothes off. His toned muscles flexing without meaning to as he takes his shirt and pants off of himself. Sliding his boxers down his toned calfs.

You stay laying there, letting out hysteric laughs and panting as he stretches you out with his fingers. And he keeps his promise, biting and niping all over your thights and stomach. You fall from your hysterical high as he pulls his mouth away until he takes your dick in his mouth and you’re pushed all the way back up the hill, arching your back and crying out for him as you grab the head board.

God you haven’t been so sensitive since you don’t even remember when. He’s sucking you off and his fingers are reaching just the right spots in you. Sliding onto his fingers down to the knuckle of his pointer and middle finger, flexing and massaging just the right spot, just until he takes a deep breathe. Then he takes all of you into his mouth and presses down on your most sensitive spot,” OH GOD, FUCK! Yes~ IZUKU PLEASE, I’M CUMMING!”

You cream into his mouth so hard. He pulls himself up off the mattress and off your dick once he finished sucking it all out of you. He licks the rest off his lips and hums in delight,” You taste better then I’ve ever imagined.” Ah, you blush so red as he said this. You think to yourself, he was just saying it for dramatic effect. For the moment! It couldn’t possibly be true....

God if only you knew how true that is from him.

He pulls some of the excess cum off your dick and you shiver a bit at his fingers grazing your tip. His magic hands. And he brings them to lube his dick back up,” Gonna fill my puppy with their own cum, how about it, slut?”

His eyes are crazy, this is a whole new side of Izuku you’ve never seen from him. And by the gods above are you excited to see it.

He presses your legs down so they’re almost flat by your arms and climbs up halfway atop your thighs. He slides himself into you and,” f-f-UCK!” He’s fucking huge.

Your partners have been quite average in the past. Nothing to scoff at but not as big as Izuku. You feel lightheaded as he pushes himself all the way in. “Look at you, my pathetic little puppy, breaking on my dick. Not even halfway there pup, but I’ll be nice this time.” He stops and you thank god and curse at him as well. You feel like you’re gonna be ripped apart yet you still crave so much more.

He gives you a second to catch your breathe, then he leans over, presses your legs farther, and starts pounding into your pretty little hole. Absolutely destroying your insides. You’re crying and whimpering and all it does is drive him to go faster and harder. To milk all those pretty little sounds out of your pretty little mouth. You’re crying on his dick and it fuels his ego,” You’re crying already? God look at you, so pretty and stupid on my dick. Such a good useless pup. Never had dick this good. Are you seeing god or something pup?”

His smirk is returned with teary eyes looking up at him, drooling at him,” Ye-ugh fUck-yes God, love your dick so much.” Oh fuck. That’s new.

It was so hot, imagining you praying and worshipping “your God’s” dick. Izuku being rode by you as you cry out for your God.

He laughs hard and leans down to get a better grip on the sheets, stopping for a moment, and then pounding you into the mattress. It felt like he was trying to hammer you down into the mattress to press you hard enough you’d become one with it. “That’s right baby! Ahaha! You feel so good I’m your god? My little puppy’s so dumb on their god’s dick right?”

You cry out to him, repeating over and over,” God! My God! Please god!” And you cum hard, over and over on his dick for the rest of the night. Orgasming and being fucked through your over sensitivity again and again and again until dawn. He finally gives in after getting his fill of filling you up.

God, he was definitely the right one to go to.

And all Izuku could think about you as he cleaned up and got ready to go to sleep with you was how fucking thankful he was you broke all his boundries for him. And accepting the fact that yes, he is the biggest simp for you.

————

-Laika

[earlgreydream]

butterbeer.

| draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader | fluff |

a/n: requested by my dearest hufflepuff, @fitzfiles​ i’m so soft for draco 

You sat curled up in the Hufflepuff common room, your thick herbology book resting on your lap. Cedric was beside you on the couch in his golden quidditch sweater, smiling kindly at you. 

“Do you see? In order to care for the mandrakes, you must bury them in the soil like this,” you showed Cedric your notes. Every Friday afternoon was spent tutoring Cedric in herbology after your shared class. 

“Yes. You’re much better than Sprout at explaining it. You should become the new herbology professor when the bloke finally retires.” Cedric grinned at you. 

“I like Professor Sprout! That would be fun though!” You giggled. 

“Oi, Y/N! Your boyfriend is griping to be let in here,” One of the Hufflepuff girls called to you as she entered the common room. You smiled at her apologetically, squeezing Cedric’s shoulder as you stood. You walked to the painting, letting it swing open to reveal Draco Malfoy. 

“Hi,” you smiled at him, and he gazed at you softly with a loving smile. His usual arrogance and sharpness was gone from his expression as he looked at you with utter adoration. 

“Hi, darling,” he stepped into the common room, kissing your forehead lightly. 

“Cedric.” He nodded, greeting your best friend. Draco had been a bit prickly toward him when the two of you first began dating, but he warmed up when he realized that Cedric wasn’t a threat. 

“We’re not quite finished. Do you mind?”

“I’ll wait. You can’t go in this anyways.” he said, nodding to your school uniform you hadn’t changed out of.

“I know, darling. It’s warm in here and I haven’t had the chance to change.” 

You walked back over to the couch, and he sat on the floor on a golden cushion, his head resting against your thigh. You lightly ran your fingertips through his snowy white locks as you leaned over your herbology book, helping Cedric identify the differences between the plants for your O.W.L.S. 

The other Hufflepuffs no longer stared at Draco, now used to having him in their common room. Draco was often hanging around, enjoying the warmth and coziness, and the way he was welcomed. He found that he much preferred it to the chilly, marble elegance of the Slytherin commons. 

One of the second-year girls walked over, setting down a plate of pumpkin pastries.

“Y/N, Draco, Cedric, have some,” She said sweetly, smiling at the three of you and sitting down across from the Slytherin prince. 

“Draco, would you maybe look at my potions paper? I swear Professor Snape hates me, and I’m nervous.” She asked shyly, and Draco sat up. 

“Of course, let me see.” He took the paper from her hand, and she moved to sit beside him. You smiled down at your boyfriend, and the kind way he spoke to her. 

“This is great, but you should add here that polyjuice potion takes a long time to make...” He fell into soft chatter with her, showing her where her paper could be stronger. Draco was gentle, careful to praise the younger student on what she did well. It warmed your heart, and you turned back to finish with Cedric. 

“This is perfect. I’ll put in a good word for you too, with Snape. Please, I’m always happy to help you or tutor you if you need it, alright?” he asked her as she stood.

“Thanks, Draco.”

“Of course.” 

“I love it when you’re sweet.” You said, leaning down over Draco and kissing the tip of his nose. He stood, helping you to your feet and taking your heavy textbook for you.

“I’m still mean!” He teasingly defended himself and you shook your head at him with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Pansy that you’re secretly nice,” you teased back and he followed you to your dorm. 

He set your textbook down on your desk, mindlessly folding the various clothing you had tossed over the back of your chair or top of the trunk at the end of your bed. He was extremely neat, always folding your clothes or putting things back in their places whenever he visited your dorm. 

“Y/N, is this my quidditch sweater I’ve been looking for?” He asked as you pulled a yellow Hufflepuff jumper over your head, letting it fall over your black skinny jeans. 

“Um, no, it belongs to my other boyfriend who plays on the Slytherin quidditch team,” you answered with a straight face. 

“You’re dating Theo behind my back?” Draco asked, humor laced in his voice.

“No, sorry, the other one,” you bit back a giggle as he reached for you, tickling your sides and making you squeal.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m yours, Draco!” You squealed, trying to escape as your laughter interrupted your breathing. 

“That’s right. You’re mine,” his voice dropped a few octaves, making you shudder with a small smile on your face. 

“It doesn’t smell like you anymore. You can have it back.” 

“Oh, I can have it back?” he smirked, pulling. you into a kiss. 

“But I want another one in return.”

“Y/N, that jumper is mine too. And that one.” He pointed, and you rolled your eyes.

“You have plenty. You can share.” 

“Come on, let’s get going.” 

Draco wrapped a scarf around your neck and fastened the buttons on the coat like you were a child. You knew he was just doing it because he cared, and you let him, taking any affection you could get from Draco. 

“Where are your gloves, honey?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and he frowned.

“It’s cold, you can’t keep losing them.” 

“I know, let’s go now. I’ll find them later, for next time,” you begged.

“You can hold my hands so they don’t get cold, and my coat has pockets.” 

“Alright, love, come on,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you to him as you apparated to Diagon Alley. 

You shivered as snowflakes gently dusted into your hair, the freezing air nipping at your skin. You squeezed Draco’s hand, and he led you through the bustling street, weaving through groups of people. Draco was right, it was cold, but you didn’t dare complain, not wanting a lecture from your boyfriend about how you should keep better track of your gloves and hat. 

“Y/N, go ahead,” he gently pushed you in front of him as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron, helping the two of you escape the cold. 

Draco kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you through the crowded pub. You squeezed through the crowded area, and ascended a flight of stairs to the second level. You smiled when you saw your favorite spot was open, a window bench with lots of pillows and a street view. You took a seat in the large round window, and Draco settled beside you. 

“What can I get for you two?” A waitress asked.

“Butterbeer for us both, please.” You said politely, and Draco added vanilla cookies. She smiled and promised to have your order soon.

“Thanks for helping me escape school. I needed some “us time” away from it all,” you told Draco, who planted a kiss to your lips. He tasted like sage and vanilla, and his kiss was sweet and gentle. 

“Of course, I love spending time with you,” Draco wrapped an arm around your waist, and you leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder. He turned and kissed the crown of your head, his fingers lightly tracing the embroidery on the sleeve of the coat you wore. 

The waitress returned with your drinks, and you grinned, leaning forward and wrapping your hands around one of the glass mugs. Draco smiled at your excitement. He loved seeing you happy, even if it was over small things, like a warm drink on a cold day. You were so sweet. You were kind to everyone, especially him, and he loved you for it. You were the breath of fresh air and the gentleness he needed in his life, and he was profoundly in love with you. He adored you, and he was secretly happy when you stole his sweaters, because he loved to give them to you. 

A tiny silver necklace with a moon charm always rested beneath your collar, matching the one he war. He’d given it to you as a gift on your birthday, three years ago when the two of you started dating, and you never took it off. It made him happy to see you wear it proudly. Sometimes, he would watch you from afar, seeing your fingers touch the pendant lightly whenever you missed him. He’d walk up to you then, and see your face light up with joy when you saw him.

“Draco, can I have one of your vanilla cookies?” you asked sweetly, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly. 

He held out the plate to you, and you picked up the top one off the small pile with a smile. You bit into the soft cookie, smiling at him gratefully. He kissed your cheek, and you fed him a piece. He lightly nipped at your fingertip, making you squeal with delighted laughter. 

“Don’t bite!” You giggled, pecking his lips, which now tasted like sugar and butterbeer. 

“M’sorry, love,” Draco laughed, not sorry at all. 

The two of you played chess on the tabletop with a small set the pub had while you drank the butterbeer and finished off the cookies. You watched the snow fall outside, and Draco tried to teach you chess strategies, though you were mostly lost. 

“That’s alright. It’s getting late, anyway.” Draco said when the two of you got stuck in your match, the empty mugs long forgotten. You looked up, seeing that the sun had set, and the only light outside came from buzzing street lamps. 

You held Draco’s hand tightly as you stepped out into the cold night, burying your face in his shoulder as the two of you walked back to a side street where you could apparate back to Hogwarts without being seen. You held your breath as Draco waved his wand, and you were suddenly back in your dormitory, disturbing your once-sleeping cat. 

“Will you stay?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Of course.” He kissed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

You hung up your coat and scarf, slipping your boots off and placing them in the bottom of the wardrobe. Draco draped his slacks, sweater, and undershirt over your chair, and pulled one of his jumpers you had stolen over his head. You stripped before pulling another over your head, his last name stitched on the chest. You turned to see Draco was pulling down your duvet, and you smiled at him softly. 

You walked over, freeing your hair from your plait and picking up your brush from the dresser. Draco’s pale fingers wrapped around the brush, prying it from your grasp. You smiled up at him as he gently brushed the tangles from your hair, helping you get ready for bed. You sat on the sheets, knees pulled to your chest, and Draco softly dragging the brush through your hair. You were nearly asleep when he finished, yawning as you sat up. 

“Get some sleep, love.” He slipped into bed behind you, pulling the duvet to cover you both. He murmured a spell to shut off the lights, darkness falling gently over the two of you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest, settling with you into his arms. 

“Goodnight, Draco.” You whispered, and he kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

[hwa-joongie]

Studio Fervor

Hongjoong x Fem Reader

Location: Studio

Names: kitten (for s/o), daddy/sir (for Joong)

Word count: 2,843 :))))

(T/W) Kinks: slight exhibitionism, hair pulling, oral, hard dom Hongjoong, choking, Dacryphilia, begging, spanking, marking, power play/power bottom, body worshiping, degradation, sub y/n.

Everyone was sitting in the cafeteria eating some meat the staff was cooking, everyone but HongJoong who was still working in his studio making new songs. Y/n looked over at San saying “Has he come out yet?” San shook his head saying “No. Do you want to take him some food?” you shrugged your shoulders saying “I guess I can. Give me a plate full and I’ll bring it to him.” Seonghwa was making a plate for himself in front of  you and grabbed an extra plate and handed it to you. As you both start filling up your plates he says “Are you going to try and talk to him?” It’s been a little over a month since the fight. You started to slowly forgive all of the boys but everyone didn’t know that you and HongJoong got back to seeing each other on the down low.As you both wanted to keep to yourselves for the time being you didn’t talk to each other around the group.As you got back together HongJoong always leave gifts around just for you in front of your apartment door. Letting it be shoes, jewelry, makeup, or even lingerie practically becoming your sugar daddy. As to whatever you showed him what you thought was cute he bought it. You took it upon yourself today to wear a very low cut bralette and the matching underwear with it that HongJoong bought you. You nodded her head responding back to Seonghwa “Yeah. Have you talked to f/n?” Seonghwa shook his head saying “Not yet. I don’t think she’s landed yet. I’ll call her when I get back to the dorm.” Halle nodded her head smiling saying “Alright I’m going to take these to him. I’ll see you later!” Seonghwa nodded his head saying “Alright!” 

You walked through the lobby humming to yourself while holding his food. Once you got in front of his studio Y/n knocked 3 times waiting for a response. you didn’t hear a reply so you decided to let yourself in seeing HongJoong sitting in his computer chair with his headphones on and tongue out. You sucked in a breath seeing how sexy he looked at that moment. Y/n walked in closing the door and locking it before heading over to HongJoong standing to the side of him tapping his shoulder causing him to look over at her. He immediately took off his headphones saying “Hey what’s up?” you held up the plate saying “I brought you some food since you’re not going to finish anytime soon.” HongJoong chuckled saying “I’m sorry. I’ve just been stuck on this beat and I can’t find any lyrics to match it well.” He grabbed the plate from your hands grazing your fingers causing sparks to go through them. Y/n said “Do you think I could be of any use?” HongJoong shrugged setting the plate down on the side table saying “You might. Come sit.” He patted his lap signaling for her to sit on his lap. you hesitated for a minute before giving into him sitting on his lap, he put the headphones on your head. You put your focus onto the computer in front of you not paying attention to the boy you were sitting on. HongJoong hit the spacebar making sure the music wasn’t too loud. You moved around to the beat getting a feel of the song in which it caused the man underneath you to grip the table. 

HongJoong finally was able to contain his dirty thoughts to the back of his head. Y/n nodded her head to the music forgetting she was on the man. A sexy beat comes on causing you to sway your hips from side to side making HongJoong let out a moan throwing his head back. HongJoong finally had enough of the torture and decided to drag his finger tips along the curves of your body. Making you jump at the feeling of the fingers lingering on your skin through the clothes you slid off the headphones saying “Joong..” he hummed in response mumbling “Don’t stop moving kitten. Keep going.” Just those words gave you goosebumps and sent shivers down your spine making him chuckle. He sat up a bit more in his computer chair so he had better access to Y/n neck, giving soft pecks to the exposed area. you let out a breath that has been held in since when you felt his fingers. He kissed up to your ear mumbling “Did you lock the door kitten?” with eyes closed loving the feeling of his breath on your neck you nod your head as a reply. 

He leaned back saying “Kitten I’m not going to give you what you want until you give daddy words.” He moved his hands down to your waist gripping your sides tightly making you say “Yes daddy I locked the door.” HongJoong moved Y/n hips up and down his crotch making you feel his bulge through his black skinny jeans. He threw his head back again saying “You know kitten I’ve missed you. I hate keeping what we have a secret. Because sometimes the way San looks at you makes me want to bend you over and show him who you belong too.” you moaned at what the man behind you was saying. Your hands found the arms of the chair giving you more stability. HongJoong removed his hands from your hips saying “Get up and move to the couch kitten.” you listened to him doing what you were told to do. HongJoong lingered over by the computer saying to you “Strip for me. I’ll put on some music.” 

HongJoong out on I Know by Big Sean featuring Jhené Aiko. He walked over to the couch sitting in the middle of it, legs spread open arms on the back of the couch. you stood in front of him taking your jeans off first letting the oversized button up cover the bottom half of your body. Knowing that you would’ve most likely been in the studio with him, you put on the black set that HongJoong always loved on you. He was becoming impatient watching you dance saying in a deep voice “Put the heels back on and come over here kitten.” The look he was giving made the arousal that was growing in between your legs grow hotter. As you slipped the heels back on, making sure to bend down in front of the man sitting in front of you showing him your ass. How the you looked made HongJoongs pants grow tighter.

Y/n walked over to the man very cautiously knowing him he would grab you at any given moment. Which is exactly what he did, he grabbed your hands that were covered by the sleeves pulling you onto his lap. The songs he had on shuffle made the moment even more sexual. you were now straddling HongJoongs lap feeling his bulge even more through your wet panties. He took it upon himself to unbutton your shirt saying “I told you to strip didn’t I kitten?” you moaned at the thought of the punishment he had in mind. you bit your lip watching his fingers expertly unbutton the shirt you mumbled a “Yes sir.” HongJoong stopped at the last 4 buttons saying “So kitten what do I do to girls that don’t listen? Hm?” you relaxed your shoulders  letting him slip off the shirt saying “They don’t get to cum daddy.” He hummed at the answer saying “Good girl! You know for a girl who doesn’t listen you’re doing a pretty good job of doing it now. Maybe I’ll shorten you punishment tonight.” HongJoong eyed the lingerie she had on saying “My kitten dressed up for me didn’t she?” nodding your head saying “Yes sir I did.” He started playing with the waistband of your underwear saying “Get up real quick kitten let me do something. Take those off, I don’t want to tear them up.” swinging your leg over to her other leg that was on the other side of HongJoong letting the man get

 up walking to his computer turning off the music while you took off the rest of your undergarments. As you were about to take off your heels HongJoong said “Keep those on kitten. Get on your knees if you’re done.” automatically you did as you were told, getting on your knees hands in your lap while waiting for him. He turned off the music and clicked certain buttons making sure everything was working correctly. Once he was done he walked over to you that was on the floor. He grabbed a pillow handing it to you saying “You’re going to be down there for a while kitten. I suggest you get comfortable.”  taking the pillow, setting it down in front of you crawling on top of it so your knees were on it. Once comfortable, you looked up to HongJoong as he said “Take it out and show me how much of a slut you are for my cock kitten.” Y/n almost immediately started unbuckling his belt and jeans pulling them down along with his underwear until his cock sprung free. gripping the base of the cock you licking the tip getting all of the precum on your tongue. HongJoong grabbed you by the hair saying “Don’t be a tease now kitten. Show me what I know that pretty little mouth does.” you let go of the base of his cock moving your head down little by little making HongJoong throw his head back groaning at the feeling. Once y/n was all the way down to the base she stayed there looking up at HongJoong as he moaned. you moaned at the feeling of his cock in your mouth letting the spit spill out of your mouth and onto your breast. Knowing he liked the feeling of you choking on his cock you stayed there for what felt like minutes knowing his release was what he needed you for. HongJoong pulled the girl back by her hair saying “Man I missed this mouth of yours kitten. I just fits so perfectly in it. Don’t you think so?”  nodding your head with tears on the brim of your eyelids making the man smile. You tried to move your head back onto the mans cock but he held you back by the hair saying in a sadistic tone “Does my kitten need more of my cock?” nodding your head eagerly saying “Yes sir I do. I want to make you feel good.” HongJoong then said “Get up and sit down facing the wall on the couch.” As you got up with HongJoongs help, legs felt like jello from sitting so long on your knees. As you were standing up he helped you to the couch. Once you were sat down the way he wanted HongJoong laid his head in between your legs saying “Sit on my face kitten.” As you sat down slowly HongJoong got tired of waiting he pulled you down onto his face, making moans escape yo  while holding onto the back of the couch. One hand letting go of the couch grabbing onto his blonde hair. HongJoong moved his tongue so effortlessly on your heat. HongJoong put his man focus on your clit knowing how much it drives you crazy. Throwing your head forward putting it onto the back of the couch saying “If you keep doing that you’re going to make me cum.” HongJoong pulled away from your heat saying “That’s the whole point kitten. Now do me a favor and cum on my tongue.” He stuffed his face back into her folds making you moan. He put his focus back onto the sensitive bundle of nerves making your legs shake around his head. Y/n was gripping the couch moaning loudly, thankfully HongJoongs studio was somewhat sound proof. HongJoong could tell that you were close by your heavy breathing, he slapped your ass signaling to cum and with that you came undone on his tongue, as you rode out your high body going slightly limp as you tried to hold yourself up so you wouldn't fall on his face. 

As HongJoong was cleaning up he made on her he marked up her inner thighs so no one else could see them. He loved seeing his art work on her that’s how he reminded her that she was his. HongJoong pulled out from underneath of her saying “You did such a good job cumming on my tongue like a good whore. Now can you take me? I know you’re still pretty sensitive.”  moaning at the praise he gave, replying “Yes sir. I can take you.” HongJoong smirked, leaning down to whisper in your ear saying “Mmmm. You’re still so wet for me. God I love this pussy of yours.” HongJoong gave  no warning before pushing his way into you causing you to throw your hand back to hold onto his wrist in pain due to the stretch. HongJoong groaned at the tight feeling of your heat saying “Take it like the cock loving whore you are. Ok kitten? I love how your pussy just grips onto my cock like this as if it never wants me to leave.” He grabbed onto her arms pulling her back to where her chest touched his. He pulled one hand up to her neck choking her muttering “There she is. Such a pretty kitten. 

Who do you belong to kitten?”  throwing your head back onto his shoulder saying “You daddy. I belong to you.” HongJoong smiled at the girl saying “That’s it kitten. You’re taking me so well. So good.” At that moment there was a knock at the door making your eyes go wide trying to push HongJoong off of you but he shushed you by putting a hand over your mouth.Looking at him shaking your head no while he nodded his head smiling before yelling “Yes?” Mingi said through the door while jiggling the handle “I was wondering if Y/n wanted to go with me to get some ice cream! Also hyung why is the door locked? You never lock it!” HongJoong whispered in the small girls ear saying “If you reply back without them noticing anything I’ll give you anything you want kitten.”  nodding eagerly HongJoong remove his hand from your mouth still thrusting into you faster than before making you squeak out “No! I’m ok my stomach isn’t feeling too good so I’m probably going to take a nap in here while HongJoong works.” Your words were starting to slur. HongJoong smiled down at you being a mess that he made of you. Mingi then said “Are you sure Y/n?” now trying to hold in a moan trying not to make a sound until HongJoong gripped your hair pulling it back more saying “Reply kitten. Or else you won’t cum do I make myself clear?”  nodded, saying “Yeah I’m sure!” Mingi yelled “Ok! I’ll see you back at the dorms!”  Once they heard his heavy footsteps walk away from the door finally able let out the moan that you were holding in. HongJoong started pounding into you like it was his last time saying “Kitten. Hold it.” knowing you were on the edge about to cum but he wanted to see how long you could hold it for. throwing the top of your body down so it was on the couch back now arched having HongJoong hit your g-spot repeatedly. Making you scream into the couch cushions and gripping them as your knuckles turned white. HongJoong was almost over the edge. But what pushed him into it was whenever you lifted your head up revealing tears going down your face saying “Please cum daddy. I can’t take it anymore!” HongJoong moaned out “Cum now kitten.” As both of your orgasms washed over the both of you.  HongJoong pulled out of you only to grab you to sit down on the couch coming down from the high. He whispered to you “Was it too much today?” shaking your head saying “No. It wasn’t.” you started  tracing his arm muscles with your finger saying “You know out of all the times I’ve came. It’s never been like that.” HongJoong looked down at the tiny girl who was now on his lap saying “You say that every time. When are you just gonna get used to the fact that I’m going to be able to do that to you?” He pushed hair back making you lean into his hand saying “Whenever you make me yours.” With a surprises look on his face catching him off guard leaving him at a loss for words. That was until Y/n tried to get up off of his lap, with legs still weak.

[ipuckwithhockey]

History Repeats Itself- B. Boeser

a/n: This somehow ended up being around 11k words, so I hope y’all enjoy it! Also, I only did a quick scan for grammar and spelling so sorry if there are errors!

summary: You and Brock met once back in college when you were still committed to your high school boyfriend. Years later you’re single and older and just starting a new job in Vancouver. The only question now is whether or not you will take the opportunity to rewrite your own history.

warnings: None that I can think of

“So, are you in or no?” Y/N’s roommate asks her as they walk out of the library and toward their dorm. 

“I don’t think so Mags, I actually have some studying to catch up on.” You reply unconvincingly. Midterms of your first semester at the University of North Dakota just came to a close, and your excuse of having homework on a Friday night wasn’t convincing anyone. 

“Y/N, seriously? You aced all of your midterms and we just spent three hours in the fucking library! Live a little! The hockey team is having a huge party, and the guys are really fun AND super hot! You deserve this!” Maggie tries to convince you to come out to a party that the UND Hockey team is having tonight, and you tell yourself not to give in. 

“Maggie, I have a boyfriend. And you know they don’t let guys who aren’t on the team into their parties. God, it’s basically a frat.” You scoff at the idea of a frat party, but there’s still a small part of you that wants to experience the chaos of a real college party. That’s probably why it ends up being so easy for Maggie to convince you to slip into a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top before embarking on a night out.  

“Y/N, this is Nick and Brock. They’re both in my econ class. Nick is a sophomore, but Brock here is a freshman like us!” Maggie happily introduces you to the two tall boys as you enter an old musty house, full to the brim with college kids. The air smells like stale alcohol and you take note that your shoes are somehow already sticky. You’re not sure if it’s from something you stepped in or if it’s just the floor in general. 

“Hey, nice to meet you.” You shake Brock’s hand that he’s extended for you and you can’t help but stare a little too long, taking in his blonde hair and ocean-blue eyes. 

You had to admit though, Katie was right, these guys are super hot. You can already tell your roommate has her eye on this Nick guy, and it actually looks like he might be interested in her too. He’s just her type— He’s hot and he knows it, and his dark hair and striking features draw the eyes of nearly every girl in the room. The blonde boy who stands across from you is quite honestly the opposite of Nick. Brock is also undeniably good-looking, but he’s shy and his light hair and soft smile make him seem less intimidating than his friend. 

Nick finds you and Katie some drinks and some other girls you’ve become friends with show up to the party a little later. The boys come and go as they mingle with other people and their teammates, but Nick tends to stay close by to Maggie and you catch glimpses of Brock occasionally. Apparently his shyness doesn’t apply to his teammates. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch him and his friends dance together to some shitty remix of a song you used to blast on your way to school. You’re actually having a great time, but you can’t hear your phone ringing over the music that’s blaring through the house you’re in. Later, Nick offers to walk you and Maggie home after a few hours of living like a real college kid, and Brock ends up tagging along since he apparently lives in the same building. 

“So, how come we haven’t met you before tonight? This one talks about you all the time.” The four of you are walking across campus and Nick has Maggie under his arm as he asks why you never seem to be with your roommate. 

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.” Maggie quips as some of the alcohol she’s consumed tonight gives her the courage to openly criticize your relationship. 

“Maggie.” You say in a warning tone. “He’s just not a big partier, and usually I’m not either.” You shove at her shoulder lightly. Maggie was nice and you liked being her roommate, but when you first met and told her you had followed your high school boyfriend across the country to attend a university in “North fucking Dakota” she immediately expressed how crazy she thought you were. In her eyes there was no way that a couple who started dating when they were fifteen would last forever. You disagreed, which is why you turned down your scholarship to an ivy league and followed your boyfriend to North Fucking Dakota. His family was from North Dakota, and for some reason everyone in their family had to go to school there too. At the time, you didn’t see it as giving something up, you saw it as you and your boyfriend starting a life together outside the confines of your hometown. 

“So, what floor do you live on, Brock?” Maggie asks as the four of you make your way up to your building. 

“I’m on 4— Room 405. What about you guys?” Brock asks back. 

“We’re 219.” You say back before you’re startled as you hear another voice you’re not exactly expecting.  

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been?” The group you’re with is almost to the doors of your dorm building when a perturbed voice yells for you.  

“Uh- Owen. What are you doing here?” You’re surprised to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, looking like he’s seeing red. You weren’t even supposed to be seeing him at all tonight. He had told you he was going to be occupied for the evening while he was studying for his physics exam. You hadn’t told him you were going to the party, but at the time you didn’t think it was important. Owen preferred that you didn’t bother him while he was studying, so you decided against calling him before your night out. 

“I’ve been calling you for like two hours— God have you been drinking?” The rest of the group you were with tonight looks uncomfortable to say the least, and you can’t blame them. Owen wasn’t the best at saving face, especially when he felt like someone hadn’t upheld the standards that he had set out for them. Now he just looked like a dad reprimanding their child, and a wave of embarrassment quickly washed over you.

“I just- We went to a party. I didn’t think you’d mind. You were supposed to be studying all night,” You say sheepishly, as you begin to regret letting Maggie convince you to go out. Before Owen can clap back again, Maggie nudges you and tells you that the three of them are going to go, not wanting to invade on your private life any longer. 

When they’re gone, Owen starts again, “This just isn’t like you. I’m so disappointed.” You feel bad now, you know you haven’t done anything wrong, but Owen’s words make you feel like you have, so you tuck your tail between your legs as follow him back to his dorm and apologize for what you did. 

That was almost five years ago. You dated Owen for longer than you’d like to admit but eventually you removed your rose-colored glasses and broke up with him. You graduated from UND and got a second chance at your Ivy League dreams when went to graduate school. Now, you’ve completed your masters and have been offered a promotion at you job. The only catch was that the new position required you to move to the west coast… of Canada. 

You moved almost two months ago, and your raise was enough to allow you to move into a nice building downtown. Work takes up most of your time now, so you haven’t been able to explore the city as much as you would like, but you can already tell your decision to make Vancouver your new home was a good one. The laid back and easy feeling you get from this city is completely different from the big east coast metropolis you had been living in before, and even though you’re working more than ever, you feel like you can actually breathe here. 

Since your breakup with Owen your senior year at UND, you’ve taken time to take back your life. You try your best not to ponder on the past anymore, and you focus on your own future. It can’t be denied that at first it was hard not to remain bitter at the idea that you had so willingly given up many things in your life, for a boy who took them too eagerly. You worked through it though and took back your life by focusing on your own goals and working on furthering your own career. The past is the past now, and you were ready to start this new life in Vancouver. 

*

“I actually can’t believe you’re wearing that.” Elias mocks at Brock as they step out of the elevator and into the lobby of Brock’s apartment building. Brock is sporting a bucket hat, and even though he knows Elias is joking, he wonders if he shouldn’t have just left the hat sitting on his kitchen counter. The two of them are bickering back and forth about their fashion choices, and Brock almost misses you as you walk past him. Almost. He recognizes you immediately even though your hair is longer, and your face doesn’t look so much like a kid’s anymore. 

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Brock extends his hand, hoping he doesn’t seem too nervous to the pretty girl he has just been introduced to. He’s a freshman, and a star on the UND hockey team, which kind of makes him North Dakotan royalty. Since starting college, he’s learned what to say and how to say it, to get a girl’s attention, but he’s not the overly confident guy that his friend, Nick is. Nick lays it on thick and loves the attention he gets. Brock likes it, it’s fun, but he’s more laid back, and not as worried about getting the girl. He just likes to have a good time with his friends and doesn’t really need all of the extra attention. 

He would however like to have your attention. He makes some friendly conversation with you over the course of the night, but you stick close to your girlfriends, and he can’t tell if you’re not interested or if you just aren’t catching what he’s putting down. 

Later that night, when Nick tells Brock that he is going to walk you and your roommate home, he’s quick to tag along. Even though he lives in the same building, he probably would have stayed at the party a little longer if you hadn’t been going with them. On the walk across campus, the four of you make some small talk, and Brock knows that Nick definitely thinks he’s getting laid tonight. 

Brock can’t help but hope that Nick getting laid will mean you will need a hideout for a couple hours while your roommate occupies your shared room. Even though he’d happily accept it, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting laid. Brock just hopes that he’ll have some time to get to know you a little bit better, maybe get your number, and then eventually ask you out. It’s right then that Nick asks why they’ve never met you. 

“She has a boyfriend. And I’m pretty sure he’s allergic to having fun.”  Maggie replies, and Brock can’t help but be disappointed. You had a boyfriend. So it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, well it was, but it was only because you were already taken. Maybe you had even caught on to his light flirting, and he can’t help but think how embarrassing that is.  

This embarrassment honestly wasn’t as bad as what was to come next. Brock isn’t sure if his secondhand embarrassment is worse than the embarrassment that you’re probably feeling as the guy, who is presumably your boyfriend, yells at you for going to a party. He can tell that you’re trying to play it cool, you’re definitely uncomfortable with scene that is unfolding. Brock isn’t sure what to do, and him and Nick exchange a few quick glances as to say, “what the fuck?” And next, he’s incredibly thankful that Maggie steps in to tell you that they’re going to head into the building. 

“What the fuck was that?” Nick asks as the three of them get out of earshot from you and Owen.  

“Meet Owen, the illustrious high school boyfriend.” Maggie’s sarcasm is clear, and Brock is surprised that someone who seems so sweet could be dating a guy like that. 

That hockey party his first semester at UND was the last time Brock spoke to you. He left after his sophomore year when he signed with the Canucks and before he left, when he would see you on campus, you were usually with the jerk he only briefly encountered that first night. When you would pass him in the hallway of your dorm or even around campus you would usually avoid meeting his eye or offer one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles. Brock would always smile back, and he would wonder if you were actually happy with that guy, and occasionally he would tell himself that he could make you happier. 

You felt bad as you essentially avoided him for the first few weeks after that party, but it got easier as time went on. The two of you barely knew each other, but for some reason every time that you did pass him, you were still enamored by his kind eyes and generous smile that only made you feel worse for avoiding him. Over time your friends, like Maggie, would eventually fall to the waste side too as your boyfriend continued to control your life. Maggie stopped asking you to hang out and when you moved in with Owen after your freshman year, you basically lost all connection with her. Everyone probably thought that you were a massive bitch because they perceived your actions as you choosing your boyfriend over them. They weren’t wrong, but you didn’t know at the time, that your priorities were extremely misguided. 

Brock’s little crush was soon forgotten when he dove headfirst into the NHL. He was busy trying to establish himself in the league, and he found himself in a few lackluster relationships that usually ended in a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t working. He was a good guy, and even though he wasn’t a saint, he preferred to get to know a girl and take her to dinner before anything else. The girls he dated usually fell pretty hard for him. He’s unmistakably attractive and his endearing personality make him incredibly charming. They knew that they couldn’t hold on to him forever and that he didn’t want to hurt them, so they let him go and hoped that they would find another guy that was half as good.

Seeing you now is like a breath of fresh air for Brock; his little crush immediately rising to the surface after being buried away for so long. 

“Y/N?” Brock lightly touches you on your arm to get your attention. You’re lost in the email you’re replying to on your phone, and you’re more than surprised when you turn to see the same light blue eyes that you met your freshman year of college. 

“Brock?” It’s the only thing that your brain can formulate right now. Brock Boeser is probably the only person you know in Vancouver and yet he’s standing in front of you right now. You haven’t seen or spoken to him in years, and you can’t believe that he even remembers you. 

“Hey, I thought that was you.” Brock says, as Elias notices the big smile that’s plastered across his friend’s face. “What are you doing in Vancouver?” Brock asks, wondering how a girl from the east coast who went to school in North Dakota, somehow ended up in Vancouver. 

“I um- I live here. I just moved for my job a couple months ago,” You tell him.

“Oh, no way! Vancouver’s great, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” He replies, still taking in the fact that you’re standing in front of him. 

“Yeah, I like it so far,” you say. “Do you live here? – Or I guess, in the building?” You ask. You know that he lives in Vancouver, you’re aware of his hockey career, but you’ve lived here for a couple months and have never seen him around. 

“Yeah, I’ve been back in Minnesota for most of the summer, so I just got back a couple days ago.” He tells you. You never really put much thought into where athletes go after their season ends, but it makes sense that they would go back to wherever they call home. 

Elias nudges Brock to remind him that he’s still standing awkwardly beside him. “Oh, this is Petey,” Brock turns to introduce you to his friend that you already recognize, “It’s Elias, nice to meet you.” Elias says as he offers his hand to you. 

“Yeah, I know.” You let out a light laugh and think about all of the Vancouver Canucks posters you’ve seen him on throughout the city. You’ve seen posters of Brock too, but you barely even know the guy, so it’s never really struck you as anything out of the ordinary. 

“Are you a Canucks fan?” Elias asks.  

You laugh a little, “Oh, no. I don’t follow hockey or really any sports, but everyone at work does, so I’ve been trying to learn a bit about it to keep up with the water cooler conversations.” You laugh again because it’s true. You’ve never really been tuned into sports, but your new office is basically all men, and they’re all huge Canucks fans, so your google searches of the team’s stats and roster have helped you become familiar with the team before their season starts. 

“Well, you’ll have to come to a game some time.” Brock tells you. 

“Um yeah. Maybe.” You offer back, mentally debating on if that would ever actually happen, but knowing that he’s only being polite. “I um- I’ve actually got to go, but it was great running into you.” You smile, and say goodbye to the two blonde boys and make your way up to your apartment. 

Brock Boeser lives in your building. Again. You laugh, thinking about how funny it is that history is repeating itself. He’s just as cute as he was the first time you met, but the truth is you barely know each other, and you’re sure he remembers that you were probably a massive bitch in college who avoided him at all costs. You don’t let the thought of him linger too long and push it to the side to get on the realities of your life instead of continuing to mull over the past.  

*

Over the next month or so, you continue to run into Brock in the elevator or in the lobby of your building. He always says hi and greets you with the same sweet smile. You make polite conversation and he’s so charming sometimes that it makes you blush. It starts off with awkward hellos and goodbyes, then you start to make small talk, and soon enough conversation between the two of you becomes pretty effortless. His little jokes are usually so dumb, but they make you laugh and you truly appreciate that he’s always so nice. You start to open up a bit more and aren’t as hesitant when he asks you innocent questions about your life. 

You got to meet Coolie and Milo the other day, and Brock says that they are particularly fond of you. They both seem to be the sweetest dogs in the world, so you’re sure they’re just as good for everyone else. You see them ever so often when Brock takes them on walks around town, and he loves the way your eyes light up when you see his furry kids.

Brock usually asks you how work is going, even though your advanced corporate job goes way over his head, and you ask him about hockey, which you also have little to no knowledge of. You both usually give short and uninteresting answers like “great” or “it’s going.” Then, just as Brock is trying to find more ways to get to know you, you tell him that you’ve been trying to educate yourself more on hockey. You explain that you primarily work with men, and these men happen to be very keyed in on the sport and particularly on the Vancouver Canucks. Now, every time he sees you, he asks you what you’ve learned. 

Your conversations are still fairly short, but you tell him when you’ve finally learned all of the NHL team names, and understand each of the hockey positions. You explain some of the penalties and you’re pretty proud of yourself when your explanation of offsides gets an approval. When he asks you who you’ve decided your favorite player is, you tell him you like “that Boeser kid,” but not as much as you like Elias Pettersson. This gets a big laugh from him, and he tells you he doesn’t disagree with your analysis. This is a turning point for the two of you. Brock can tell that you’re becoming more comfortable with him, and he likes seeing this lighter side of you. 

One day when you pass him in the parking lot, he’s on his way to a game, dressed in suit, but with a beanie on his head. You’ve seen him like this a number of times before, and you really don’t understand why he insists on covering up his beautiful hair with various hats. You also don’t mind admiring how good he looks in his game day apparel. He’s good looking, and it’s not a crime to admire that. 

As you walk toward each other in the parking lot he calls out to you, “Hey, you learn anything new this week?” You laugh, because he usually starts the conversation like this, asking if you’ve studied up or done your homework. 

“Actually, I have a question for you.” You tell him as you come up, stopping before you would pass each other. 

“Okay, shoot.” He says. 

“Well, that’s actually your job, but my question has to do with goalie interference. I just don’t really understand it. I was trying to find videos of calls during games, but all of the calls seem kind of inconsistent.” You tell him, and he laughs at your shooting joke, leaving you feeling proud for a moment. He’s also laughing because you’re right. No one fucking knows what goalie interference is. 

“Yeah, I’m not even sure what goalie interference is half the time. But if you figure it out let me know!” He answers. You laugh, and the two of you begin to part ways. 

Before he makes it to his car you shout back, “Oh, Good luck tonight!” 

He smiles and thanks you before opening his car door and on his way to the rink he thinks about all of the little conversations the two of you have had over the course of last couple of months. His crush has only continued to grow, and Elias keeps nagging him to ask you out, but he’s not even sure if you’re single. With his luck, you’re probably married to that asshole from college, although he hasn’t noticed you with anyone and he hasn’t seen a ring on your finger. 

After that night Brock decided he needed to figure out if you were single or not, so that he could move on from his infatuation with you instead of wasting his time pining over a girl who was already taken. You’re always polite, and more recently you’ve become more and more comfortable joking and bantering with him, but sometimes you give him a look like you’re not sure what to say. 

That look is the look you get when you contemplate how you got here. Years ago, you couldn’t have fathomed having a simple conversation with Brock, but now you see him on a regular basis and make conversation like you’ve been friends for years. You appreciate his willingness to talk with you, and you enjoy your interactions more and more every day.

Brock knows that on Sunday morning you usually go for a walk down to the coffee shop on the corner, so today he grabs Coolie and Milo and heads for the door, hoping he’ll be lucky enough to run into you. He makes it all the way to the coffee shop without seeing you and he’s praying that when he opens the door to the store that you’ll be waiting inside. 

No such luck. 

When he doesn’t see you standing inside, he decides he should at least buy a coffee instead of awkwardly walking out. After he picks up his drink he walks across the street to the park so that Coolie and Milo can get some exercise. For some reason, the gods are on his side today, and a few minutes into his walk he sees you sitting on a bench under a tree, reading a book. 

He doesn’t get to secretly admire how pretty you look sitting there, with the sun streaming down through the limbs of the trees, because Milo and Coolie have spotted you and are actively dragging him in your direction. You’re stirred from your reading and when you look up you see two big fur balls running toward you, their owner not far behind them. 

“Hey! Sorry about them.” Brock apologizes as he tries to calm the dogs down. You’re laughing and smiling because Coolie has jumped up on the bench beside you. Brock tells them to get down as they continue to try and jump for your attention, and they eventually settle at his side. 

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all. I feel the same way when I see them,” you say, and it gets a light chuckle from Brock. He loves that you get so excited to see them and he cherishes the way your eyes light up when you reach down to pet them. He’s not sure what to say now, and before the silence gets too awkward you ask him if he wants to sit while motioning to the spot next to you. He gladly accepts your offer, and he sits down next to you.

“What are you reading?” He asks, attempting to facilitate some conversation. 

You turn over the book in your hand so that he can see the cover, “It’s called Normal People.” You say before giving him a brief description. You also tell him it’s a series on Hulu and he says he’ll opt to watch that instead of reading the book, earning another laugh from you. 

“So, did you leave the boyfriend behind or did you bring him with you?” He asks referring to some of the plot points of the book you had described to him. The question surprises you because one, there wasn’t a boyfriend, and two, why would Brock think there was a boyfriend? Your mind works fast enough to figure he might think that you’re still with Owen, but over the last couple months you don’t think you’ve given him any reason to think you would still be with him. 

“Neither I guess. I didn’t have a boyfriend to leave or bring.” You answer, looking over at Brock. You’re sure you almost hear what sounds like a sigh of relief from him, but it happened too quickly to tell. 

“I guess you and that guy from college didn’t work out?” Brock asks cautiously. He’s trying not to seem too eager, but he’s dying to know what ever happened between you and that jerk. 

You let out a light laugh as you think back to your previous relationship, “No, it definitely didn’t work out.” You say back. “We were obviously super young; we started dating when we were fifteen,” you sigh. “Anyway, I think it just took some time to realize I wasn’t going to marry a guy I thought was cute in my 9th grade biology class. We just didn’t have anything in common anymore. And he turned out to be a total jerk.” It feels surprisingly easy talking to Brock about this. You’ve felt so much shame and embarrassment for staying with this guy from high school for so long, but Brock’s eyes don’t convey any judgement or reason to feel ashamed. 

After that you gracefully shift the conversation to Brock’s love life. It was only fair, and when you asked him if he had a special lady- or man in his life, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. It isn’t because you asked him if he was perhaps seeing a man, but because he was just so flustered by you and your questioning of his love life at all. 

“Nope. No ladies... Or men for that matter.” He says with a little laugh. 

“Really? A star hockey player like you doesn’t have girls lined up waiting for their chance to be with you?” You tease, as you can see, he’s still blushing a bit. You don’t think much of it, other than that he’s probably just shy about those things, but you don’t really feel too bad about teasing him.  He continues to convince you that there aren’t any other ladies in his life, and eventually the topic of conversation is forgotten. 

Brock walks back to the apartment building with you, and when you get in the elevator you remember that you’re going to be attending a Canucks game next week, “I almost forgot! I’m going to the Preds game next week!” You tell him, and his expression lights up hearing you say that you’ll be attending one of his games. “Some of the guys from work invited me to go with them. I think I’ve really won them over with my new hockey knowledge,” You tell him proudly. 

Some of the guys from work who are particularly invested in the hockey team invited you to come with them to a game, and you happily accepted the invitation. You had proven yourself to them as a colleague and now as a hockey fan too. 

“I guess we’ll have to get a win for you guys.” Brock replies confidently. The Canucks have had a great record lately and it looks like their winning streak is just getting started. “You better!” You say before the elevator stops on your floor and you tell him you’ll see him later, leaving Brock to think about everything he’s learned about you that morning. 

*

It’s Thursday, and this week has been hell. 

Sadly, you’re used to dedicating most of your time to work, but this week has been a total shit show, for lack of better words. A big account you’ve been working on decided at the last minute that they wanted something completely different, causing you and your team to have to work some crazy hours this week. By Thursday you’re practically a zombie due to your lack of sleep. The hours you have spent at home have been minimal, as you’ve gotten home past ten almost every night this week, and you leave in the morning again before 7. 

The guys on your team have all been working crazy hours too, but you’ve been taking the lead on this campaign, so you’ve made sure to be there early and late every single day. They can tell you’re just about out of gas, and they send you home early, telling you to rest up for the big presentation tomorrow. You try to argue, but they’re right, you need a break. You surrender and head home after stopping to get some takeout, knowing that your fridge at home is starkly empty. 

“Ms.Y/L/N, I’ve got a package for you.” Paul, the concierge of your building tells you as you pass him on your way to the elevators. You haven’t made any online purchases as of late, and you don’t remember anyone telling you they were sending you anything. Still, you wait patiently as he goes to the back room to grab it. When Paul returns he’s holding a decent sized shopping bag. You’re not sure what it could be, but you take the bag and thank him, too focused on getting up to your apartment and out of your work pants. 

As soon as the door to your apartment is closed behind you, you drop your bags onto the kitchen counter and slip out of your dress pants. Your bra follows shortly, and you settle into your couch with your take out. The rest of your evening is spent lounging on the couch, catching up on your shitty reality tv shows and taking a break from work. When you look down at your phone and see that it’s only 8:30 you tell yourself it’s too early to go to bed, but you’re exhausted and you bed is calling to you. As you gather your dishes and clean up your kitchen you’re reminded of the package you picked up on your way in. 

The bag is still sitting on the counter where you left it a few hours ago. You take a minute to think about what it could be or who it could be from, but nothing comes to mind. When you open the bag all you see is some blue fabric. It feels like clothes, so you dump it over on to your counter and come to find that the bag is full of what looks like Vancouver Canucks gear. You’re in surprised to say the least. There are multiple pieces of clothing laying in front of you, and you’re sure it’s at least a few hundred dollars worth of apparel. There’s a note too, but you choose to look through the other contents first. 

First off, there’s a navy blue hoodie with the classic Cancuks logo. There are two t-shirts, one has the Canucks throwback logo on it and the other has the pride logo printed on the front. You smile at that, knowing that he obviously knew you would like that one. Next, is a Canucks beanie with a pompom on the top. Finally, you unfold a royal blue jersey. You’re expecting to see a number six on the back but instead your eyes land on the number 40. You can’t help but feel a little sad for a minute, knowing he didn’t get you a jersey with his number on it. 

Alas, you unfold the piece of paper that was sitting in the bottom of the bag and it reads:

I figured you might need some gear for the game Saturday. I hope everything fits okay. 

If you ever need anything I’m Apt. 859, *his phone number* 

-Brock

P.S. Petey insisted that I include his jersey since he’s “your favorite.”

You don’t feel as bad about it not being a Boeser jersey now, and you use a magnet to hang the note up on your fridge before folding your new gear and heading to bed, grinning ear to ear. 

Your presentation goes off without a hitch the next day and you and your coworkers are ready to let loose a bit for the Cancuks game the following evening. You meet up with them at a bar that’s not far from the arena, and you grab a round of drinks before you head into the game. The four co-workers you meet up with take note of your Pettersson jersey, and you smile, satisfied with their praises. A couple of them are sporting jerseys too, one with Horvat and the other with a Boeser. You don’t mention that you know the guy who actually wears number 6, and when he scores the game winning goal you cheer just as loud as everyone else, but secretly you’d like to think it was because he knew you were there in the stands. 

When you get home after the game you shoot Brock a quick text.

You: nice goal tonight! i think this pettersson jersey is lucky! (10:54pm)

You: this is y/n btw (10:54pm)

You’re not sure if he’ll reply so you set your phone down and start to go through your nightly routine. A few minutes later you hear your phone buzz from your night stand. 

Brock: petey didn’t even score tonight and you’re still talking about him? maybe i’ll just take that jersey back (11:01pm)

You: hey, no take backs. but it was a very nice goal!  (11:03pm)

Brock: how was your first game? (11:07pm)

You: my second favorite player scored, my team won, and my co-workers were impressed with my vast hockey knowledge so i’d say it went pretty well! (11:13pm)

You spend some time debating on how to word your message, not wanting to send a reply too fast, and not wanting to seem to flirty, but you still let yourself tease him a little bit more before hitting send. 

Brock: HAHA. very funny. (11:14pm)

Brock: i’m glad you had a good time. (11:14pm)

Brock: we’ll have to get you to more games. it looks like you might be good luck. (11:15pm)

*

Sunday morning is your time to relax. You try not to do any work and opt to take some time for yourself. This can take many forms, like lounging around the house or even reorganizing your bathroom. Today you opt for baking. You bake a couple dozen brownies and place them in a container before slipping on some shoes to head up a few floors. 

You hadn’t given it much thought until you were standing outside of his apartment door, but the two really only interact in the hallways or elevator and you’ve never been to each other’s apartments. The brownies in your hand are probably getting colder by the minute, and you know they taste the best when they’re still warm so you convince yourself to bring your knuckles to the door. 

The person who answers the door isn’t Brock. The boy who answers is shorter and has dark hair. You recognize him as Quinn Hughes. Brock told you once that they call him huggy bear, but you’re not totally sure you know why. 

“Uh-“ There aren’t words coming out of his mouth, it’s more like an awkward sound that you think it is meant to convey some sort of confusion. 

“Um, Is Brock here?” You ask, offering a smile to the boy in front of you. 

“Oh, yeah. Um, come on in.” Quinn doesn’t really know if he should be letting someone into his friends apartment, but Brock made him answer the door so he didn’t feel so bad about inviting a stranger in. 

You walk through the door and take in Brock’s home. It’s similar to yours, but slightly bigger. He lives on a different side of the building so the windows are slightly different too. You follow Quinn into the living room where you see Elias and Brock and Jake Virtanen sitting on the couch playing video games. The dogs notice you first as you walk in and Quinn nudges Brock telling him someone is here for him before he turns around to see you. 

“Y/N! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asks as he stands from the couch. 

“I uh, I just wanted to bring you these. I figured it’s the least I could do since you got me that lucky Pettersson jersey.” He lets out a solid laugh at that. You liked it when he laughed like that. He lets his head hang back and his hand rests on his stomach. 

“Well thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.” He says as you hand him the box of brownies. He walks over to the kitchen counter and pulls the lid off.  The smell of freshly baked brownies starts to fill the room, and the other boys are at the counter before you know it. 

“Oh shit. Those look good.” Jake says as he eyes the baked goods.

The boys are quiet for the next couple minutes except for some humming and “yum” sounds that escape between bites.  A couple dozen brownies is apparently no match for four hockey players. You swear half the box vanishes in front of your eyes as they compliment you on your baking abilities. You mentally thank your mom for the perfected family recipe that you practically have memorized. They make friendly conversation, besides Quinn who has remained rather quiet, except for offering a few side comments or sounds of agreement. Eventually Elias asks you more about how your first game hockey game went. 

Elias is observant and incredibly well spoken, and he’s making what could have been an awkward situation a very pleasant one. He guides most of the conversation as Brock becomes more comfortable with the dynamic of you being there with his other friends. It’s cute how close Brock and Elias are. Even just standing in the kitchen you can tell the two of them have a bond that’s different than the ones between the other boys. Brock is sometimes shy and blushy when the two of you talk, but with his friends he’s more bold and sure of himself. 

The small talk is getting thin, and you’re about to politely end the conversation and tell them you should go when Jake asks how you and Brock know each other. You don’t know why you hesitate, but you do, and you look at Brock who is standing next to you. Before you can decide how to answer Brock replies simply, “We went to UND together back in the day.”

“I guess we don’t really know each other very well, but we had some mutual friends.” You try to add and clarify.  

“Oh cool,” Jake replies, not really giving it much thought. “So are you liking the city so far?” he asks. 

“I like it a lot , I just haven’t had a lot of free time outside of work to explore. But, my co-workers finally like me since I know all about hockey now, and the one girl in our office is my best and only friend!” You laugh at yourself a bit, because you know it sounds a little sad that you’re a young twenty-something with zero signs of a social life. It earns some laughs from the guys too. 

“You should come out with us next weekend, you gotta experience Vancouver’s night life! Plus, we’re celebrating my dog’s birthday!” Jake exclaims, and you can see Elias rolling his eyes and Brock and Quinn are both laughing while shaking their heads. 

You look between the boys, a bit confused, “Your what? Your dog’s birthday?” 

Jake laughs too when you seem so confused about it, “It seemed like a good excuse to go out. Gotta keep it loose, ya know?” He seems serious about this and you can’t help but laugh. The guys explain that they don’t get out too often during the season, and some of them don’t even like going out, but sometimes it’s good to just let loose with the boys. Jake is one who particularly enjoys a good night out, and so occasionally when the boys haven’t frequented a bar in a while, he comes up with “reasons to celebrate.” Elias sounds like a dad when he says that they all just go along with it to make Jake happy, and Jake looks like a little kid when he rolls his eyes at them. He’s also quick to make the point that they always end up having a good time. 

“You obviously don’t have to come, but I think it’ll be fun, and you should bring your friend. Her name’s Jade, right?” You’ve talked to Brock about Jade a couple times in the past, but you didn’t really think he would have listened that intently or that he would remember your co-workers name. It’s nice knowing that he does. 

“Yeah, it’s Jade. I guess I could ask her if she’s free and let you know.” You tell him, still contemplating if you even want to go out to some busy club on a Saturday night. 

*

“So, uh— What are you doing this weekend?” You ask Jade, your co-worker as you walk into her office. She’s the only other girl in your office, and you’ve become good friends over the last few months. Her dark hair and dark features match her bold and strong personality. Jade constantly bugs you to get out more, especially on the weekends, but you usually curb her requests saying that you’re still getting settled into the new city. This excuse was wearing thin since you’ve been here almost four months now, and you knew you would have to give in to her requests soon. Instead, you’ve opted to invite her to go out with Brock and his friends this weekend. Or rather, pray she would go with you because there was no way you were going alone. 

“I don’t know, probably nothing because my friend is a loner who doesn’t ever leave her house.” Jade looks over at you with a knowing expression causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Your loner friend actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out this weekend.” You say mimicking her cadence.  “That guy from college who lives in my building is celebrating his friend’s dog’s birthday, so him and some of their friends are all going out.” When you explain why Brock’s friends are going out you realize again just how ridiculous it sounds, and you know it’s not really why they’re going to a bar to get hammered, but you relay the information anyway. 

You told Jade about “the guy from college” that you had run into in your apartment building, but you didn’t tell her that the guy was Brock Boeser. You were sure she knew who he was, even if she wasn’t shy with her discontent with sports. She’s just not a sports person, but anyone in Vancouver would immediately recognize the name of one of their biggest players. All you told her was that you had gone to UND together and that you had never really been friends, just that you had mutual friends. 

She never asked more about who he was, but she did ask if he was cute. You couldn’t lie, it would be sinful to do so about a man who was as good looking as Brock, so you told her the truth. You also told her how good of a guy he was and that he never hesitates to start a conversation with you. Since then, she has asked for regular updates on your interactions together. Even though you withheld some crucial information, you still told her about how he liked talking about hockey and that he had gotten you some Canucks gear to wear to the game. When you told her about that she insisted that he liked you, and part of you wanted to believe that, but another part of you knew that you and Brock still barely knew each other. 

He seems really sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he still has plenty of girls vying for his attention. Girls who are prettier and smarter and nicer than you. When you think back to those brief interactions with him it still gives you a feeling of anxiety. It’s the kind of anxiety that you get when you remember something embarrassing you did as a kid or when you’re trying to fall asleep and you remember that you said “you too” to the barista who said “come again!” Either way, you weren’t convinced that your limited interactions warranted any feelings on either of your parts, so you continued to try to suppress your growing feelings for him.

Luckily, Jade was happy to oblige your request of going out. She asked if your friend had any cute single friends, and while you weren’t quite sure if they were single, you said yes figuring that one of them had to be.

“Y/N, It’s me!” You hear Jade come in through your apartment door that you had left unlocked for her. It’s Saturday night and you’re getting ready to go out with Brock and his teammates. You still haven’t told Jade who he is, and you’re hoping she doesn’t freak out when she finds out. 

“I’m in my closet!” You shout back to Jade as she makes her way through your apartment. She finds you sitting inside your walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear, “I’m having a crisis. I have no idea what I should wear.” You look over at her precisely curated outfit that’s perfect for a night out. She looks hot and it’s just enough to not be overdone. He hair is flawlessly sleek and her make up looks like an artist painted it on. 

“Stop moping. You’re just nervous because he’s cute and you like him. Go make us some drinks and I’ll pick out your outfit.” You don’t put up a fight, knowing that she’ll probably be able to piece together a great ensemble that you never would have thought of. Your strengths were probably better suited for making cocktails anyway, so you go to the kitchen and whip up a couple of drinks. 

On your way back to your room you turn on your “going out” playlist that hasn’t been touched in ages, and when the first drop of alcohol touches your tongue you automatically feel less anxious. She’s right, you totally have a crush on this guy, and you’re super nervous about going out with him and his friends. What’s worse, is that this was pretty much a pity invite, and him and his friends feel bad that you don’t know anyone else in the city.  

Brock’s night was going somewhat similarly to yours. When Elias got to his apartment for the pregame he found Brock standing in only his boxers with a pile of clothes covering his closet floor. Elias couldn’t help but laugh at him. He hasn’t seen Brock act this way about a girl in a long time. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure if he’s ever seen Brock act like this. Brock was sensitive, but he wasn’t anxious like this. He wouldn’t get tied up in things like what to wear or what to say to a girl. He did however, have the issue of falling way too hard way too fast, ending up in situations where girls left him after they got what they wanted. Over the years he’s learned how to guard his heart a bit better, and his friends, Elias especially, were always there to protect him. 

Elias likes you. He liked you the minute he met you. He was intuitive and was a good judge of character, which made him and Brock a good pair. Brock has a tendency to trust a little too much, but now Elias is there to help guide him toward the right people. When Brock introduced you to Elias, he could immediately tell that you were a good person. He could see it in your eyes, and in your genuine appreciation that Brock would recognize and say hello to you. Elias liked that you were sprightly enough to make a joke about knowing who he was. Most of all, he liked how Brock talked about you. Elias immediately recognizes when Brock has had a conversation with you before practice or a game. He comes in with a little pep in his step, that causes some of the guys to question if he got laid the night before, but now Elias recognizes that he must have seen you on his way to work. Brock gushes about your interactions and about how cute you are when you explain the hockey things you learn.  The day that you told him Elias was your favorite player Brock was so excited to tell him. He wasn’t even mad, he just loved how light hearted willing to joke around you were. 

Brock occasionally thinks back on the times he saw you after that first night at UND. He thinks about what would have happened if your boyfriend hadn’t been waiting for you outside of your dorm. It’s not that he thinks he would have gotten lucky or that you would have cheated on your boyfriend with him, it’s just that maybe if you had had a bit more time to get to know each other you could have at least become friends.  And maybe that friendship could have grown into something more and you would have broken up with that asshole to be with him. Brock thinks about what could have been, but he also knows that hindsight is 20/20. He doesn’t consider himself a superstitious guy, but he can’t help but think that you came to Vancouver for a reason. 

When your wardrobe crisis has been averted, you’re fully dressed in skinny jeans and a cute top that’s revealing enough but doesn’t exactly come right out and say “I want to have your babies right now.” (That’s how Jade described it, anyway.) The two of you have had a round of drinks and you decide that it’s probably an appropriate time to head up to Brock’s. You didn’t want to get there too early and be the only ones there, so you made Jade wait it out in your apartment until it was at least thirty minutes after the time he had said to come. 

Brock texted you letting you know the door was unlocked, and when you get out of the elevator you can already hear music playing from behind his door. “I can already feel it. This is going to be fun!” Jade tells you excitedly as you reach out for the doorknob. You laugh thinking about how she has no idea she’s about to be drinking with a bunch of professional hockey players for the night. 

When you open the door you see some of the guys you’ve met mulling about, most of them with drinks in their hands. Brock comes up to you almost immediately. Without even thinking he wraps you in a hug, and it feels so natural even though you’ve never had any sort of physical interaction with him. Your suspicions were right, he gives the best hugs, and you wish that you could stand there in his warm arms forever, but it only lasts a second before he’s pulling away and turning his attention to your friend who looks likes she’s surprised to see Brock Boeser hugging her coworker and Elias Pettersson coming up behind him to say hello. 

“Okay, you didn’t tell me that “your friend” was Brock fucking Boeser.” She doesn’t even try to whisper it, and it’s kind of what you love about her. She just expresses herself freely, and it’s honestly so funny when she says it.  It has Brock’s head falling back as he lets out a laugh. 

Brock and Elias introduce you and Jade to the other guys who are in the apartment. There are a couple girlfriends among them and even though they all look like they just walked out of an instagram ad, they all seem genuinely nice and aren’t nearly as intimidating as you thought they would be. You don’t get too much time to mingle before Jake informs the group that the “birthday party” is ready to move to the bars, followed by packing into various Ubers. 

When you’re all at the bar, a few other guys show up, some single and definitely ready to mingle, but to your surprise some have even brought their wives. The drinks are flowing and you’re actually having fun. You notice that Jade and Jake have spent a lot of time talking, and he offers to get her a drink before they head off to the bar. You laugh, and shake your head as she turns back to give you wink before heading off with the hockey player. 

You turn your attention back to the guys standing around the table, when one of them asks you, “So, how do you two know each other? I feel like somebody said you went to UND?” It’s Brandon Sutter, you didn’t recognize him when Brock first introduced you, seeing as most of the photos you’ve seen of him include a hockey helmet covering most of his face. It’s probably the alcohol— no, it’s definitely the alcohol that has you responding to his question, “Yeah, we went to UND together, but we didn’t really hang out or anything, I think everyone just thought I was massive bitch.” You laugh, but you can see some confusion setting in on Brock’s expression. Brandon laughs too, not thinking much of what you said. 

“What do you mean?” Brock asks. He never thought of you that way back in college. He knew that guy you dated was jerk. He dimmed your light, and that wasn’t your fault. 

“I don’t know, I just figured you guys all thought I was kind of a bitch because I just hung out with my boyfriend all the time.” You don’t really know what else to say, thinking back to those days where you would follow Owen around like a lost puppy. 

“I don’t think anybody thought that, we just thought your boyfriend was dick.” He says, and before you can say anything else he adds, “No offense. He just didn’t seem like he treated you very well. That night he yelled at you in front of the dorm when he found out you went to our party left a pretty bitter taste in my mouth.” 

“Sounds like a dick, to me.” Quinn says matter-of-factly. You’re sure it’s the alcohol for him too, he’s been more talkative in the last hour than he has been in the two other times you’ve seen him. 

“Yeah, he was.” You answer back.

“So I guess you’re not still dating this guy, are you?” Brandon asks. You can feel sets of eyes all resting on you now, like you’re about to reveal a big secret. 

“No no, we broke up right before senior year of college. I dated a little in grad school, but when I found out I was moving to Canada I didn’t really bother with trying to find boyfriend.” You tell them, as they nod in response.

The rest of the night isn’t as serious. Jade and Jake tear up the dance floor, and when she nudges you to signal she’s leaving with him you tell her to wrap before she taps it, earning a laugh and wave goodbye. Brock stays by your side the entire night, neither of you wanting to join the others dancing. His arm stays perched on the back of the booth you’re in, while you listen to JT tell some elaborate story from their recent road trip. 

When Brock sees you yawn for the third time in a row he asks if you’re ready to head home. “Yeah, I’m tired. I’ll probably just head home soon.” You think he might offer to go back with you, but you don’t want to assume. Instead of yelling over the loud music he just nods and pulls out his phone. He tells the boys that you’re both heading out and they all say goodbye before Brock nudges you out of the booth. 

On the car ride home he asks you what you thought of the boys, laughing when your first response is that there are just so many of them. “It’s like trying to keep track of puppies. They’re there one second and then they’re off doing something else the next,” You laugh at yourself thinking about how many of them probably have undiagnosed ADHD, or maybe some of them are diagnosed. “But it’s cute, you guys are like a little family.” This earns one of those genuine Brock Boeser smiles. He’s proud of his little family. He loves them all, and he’s glad that you like them because he can tell they like you too. 

That night out leads to a few more texts back and forth, and eventually to full on conversations that go one for days at a time. One night he asked what you were doing and you told him you were going to watch the Battle of Alberta game. You had heard a lot about this rivalry since you embarked on your hockey education, and you figured you should see what all the hype was about. To your surprise, Brock asked if he could join you, and the two you spent the night watching hockey from your couch. 

You hadn’t watched a game this intense before, and when Matthew Tkachuk drops his gloves to fight Zack Kassian, Brock can tell you’re on edge. You knew there were fights in hockey, and you had watched a few clips on youtube, but it seemed more real watching it in realtime. You wondered what it would be like to see something like that in person. As the two players are ushered off the ice, you can’t help but wonder if Brock would ever find himself in a situation like that, and when you ask him if he ever fights during games he chuckles a bit before he answers, “No, I’m not really the fighting type. I think it’s better for everyone if I leave that up to guys like Zack and Jordie.” 

You’re not totally convinced by this, and you don’t like that the thought of Brock in a fight makes you feel so sick. He can sense your hesitation and he wants to try to ease your mind, “When fights like that break out, it’s usually because both players have agreed to it. You can see that they’re talking right before, they’re asking each other if they want to do it.” He narrates as the fight replays on your TV. “Occasionally someone will still throw a punch even if the other guy says no, but that’s not common. It’s kind of an unspoken rule that you have to stand up for your team, so most guys who are asked will fight, but I’m not usually the guy in that position. I haven’t fought once in the NHL, and I plan to keep it that way. I’d get rag-dolled by both of those guys.” He says pointing back to where the players now sit in their respective boxes.

It’s nice to know that Brock hasn’t fought anyone before, but you still worry about him getting hurt. What if he was the one who got caught by a bad hit? You can’t keep thinking about things you can’t control, so you try your best to shift your attention back to the game. 

You and Brock find yourselves in each others apartments more often after that. The two of you will make dinner and watch a game, or just watch TV for the night. Occasionally you walk down to the coffee shop on the corner together or walk over to the park with Coolie and Milo. You’ve started to become friends, and you feel like Brock is letting you get to know him more and more everyday. The conversation is easier, and the flirting is probably more noticeable than either of you thinks it is. Your positions on the couch have drifted from opposite sides of the couch to having your thighs touching while his arm sits, resting behind you across the back of the couch. He always greets you with a big hug, and lately you’ve noticed his arms lingering around your body a little bit longer than the time before

He hasn’t made a move yet, and you haven’t either. You think that maybe he just isn’t interested in getting closer, and you’re admittedly too self-conscious to try to make a move yourself. Tonight os just like any other night that the two of you spend together but you don’t notice that Brock is pretty far gone in his thoughts. That may be because you’re lost in your own as well. A few minutes later his voice brings you back to reality, “Are you okay?” You look up from where you’ve been staring down at the wine glass in your hand. You’re sitting at his kitchen counter, and he’s standing on the other side of the island looking back at you. You tell him you’re fine but you can see that he doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“You know you’re like a really good guy, right?” You ask him, after taking another sip of wine. 

He smiles back at you with a bit questioning in his eye, “I mean I’d like to think that I’m not too bad.” He says back. 

“No, Brock. You’re like really good. You help old ladies at the grocery store, and you talk about your nephew like he’s your own kid, and you’re nice to me when you really don’t have to be.”  You try to tell him just how genuinely good he is. You wish you could explain it more eloquently and you wish you could show him how good of heart he has. 

“That just sounds like normal people stuff,” he replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

He would say something like that, and think that normal people were just as nice as he is, and maybe they were, but the people that you’ve met throughout your life have somewhat tainted that idea for you.

“I think maybe you don’t realize how good you are.” He says back, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’re a good person, and just because I knew you back when you dated some jerk in college, doesn’t mean that it has any impact on how I feel about you now.” He’s so serious in this moment, and not at all like the usual lighthearted guy you’re used to. Somehow he knew just where your insecurities laid. He’s so genuine and honest sometimes that it hurts and the butterflies you feel in your stomach are getting harder and harder to ignore. 

The two of you don’t talk much for the rest of the night, and instead settle in a comfortable silence while Brock catches up on the episodes of Gossip Girl that Elias watched without him. Brock isn’t paying attention to what is happening on his TV. His mind is way too busy thinking of what he’s going to do next. The guys have all been pestering him to get a move on, saying that he’ll miss his window of opportunity with you, and he knows that they’re right. If he’s lucky he hasn’t missed his opportunity yet, but if not, he might just be screwed. 

He doesn’t even notice when his eyes shift away from the screen and move to rest on you. He’s taking his time, studying every feature, taking in every soft curve of your face. He loves the subtle crinkles on the sides of your eyes that deepen when you smile, and it’s even better when it happens because of something he said or did. If he could, he would make sure that smile stayed on your face for every second of the day. Your hair flows naturally without being fixed and he knows that you often let strands fall in front of your eyes when you’re too concentrated on your work or like now, when you’re invested in the show that you’re watching. 

Without a thought, and on instinct alone, Brock slowly moves his hand up toward your face and softly tucks the strand of hair behind your ear. You’re a bit caught off guard at first, but you remain still as you feel his fingers linger on the side of your neck. Eventually you let your eyes meet his and you realize just how close you are to him. The two of you stay like that for a minute, staring at each other, taking each other in. It’s too easy to get lost in Brock’s ocean-like eyes, and you swear you hear the enchanting sound of waves crashing on a beach.  

You’ve been staring at each other for what feels like too long, and you’re about to pull away when you feel Brock’s hand on the side of your face again. He’s slowly inching toward you and his eyes are still glued to yours. He’s searching for any source of panic or concern in your eyes, but he doesn’t find any. Your heart has taken over at this point and you can’t keep yourself away any longer, before you lean in and your lips finally meet his. 

Kissing Brock feels like everything good in the world. It’s feels like the first time you road a bike or the first time you tasted ice cream. It’s new and invigorating and yet you feel totally safe and secure. Before you know it, you’re deepening the kiss and Brock lets you lead him to where you’re comfortable. It just so happens that you find comfort when you reposition yourself so that your legs are straddling his and his hands are resting on your hips. It’s only when your hips shift on top of him and he can’t help but let out a deep moan that also he makes himself pull away from you. It’s then when you start to panic, and think that maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s realizing that now. 

“I don’t want you to think that I just want this.” He says as he motions to the small space separating your bodies. “I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing…” he mutters out, like he’s a bit embarrassed, and nervous that you won’t want the same thing. 

“Brock, the only reason I wouldn’t want this is if you didn’t want it. But if you do, then I do too.” You say steadily. Brock smiles and it’s one of those big toothy smiles he only shares when he’s truly happy. You can’t say anything because you’re just as elated, so instead you lean down to kiss him again. 

*

It’s only been a short six months since that night on Brock’s couch, but now you get to call his bed your own, and when you come home to your shared apartment you’re greeted by your beautiful blond boyfriend and your two dogs. Brock insists that you’re their adoptive mom now, and to make it official he bought the two of you matching hats that say “Dog Mom AF” and “Dog Dad AF.” You both wear them when you walk your fury kids together and even though you tell him you think they’re cheesy he knows that you love them.

Brock is somehow everything you need him to be. He’s strong when you’re not and he makes you laugh when you’re sad, but most of all he’s your steady companion. It’s crazy now, thinking back to when you met him. You were just a kid, barely out of high school, and you really hadn’t had the chance to think about what you actually wanted for your life. 

Then you graduated, went to graduate school, and started to find out who you were without a boy to dictate the ins and outs of your life. When you were given the opportunity to move to Vancouver you saw it as a new beginning, but you didn’t realize that it was going to be a gift to more than one part of your life. Your work life and your career goals were finally falling into place and that just left one more thing—your love life. You had stopped worrying so much about finding a boyfriend along the way as you focused on yourself, but when Brock Boeser reentered your life you couldn’t ignore it. 

Brock’s reemergence was a surprise to say the least, but now you both see that it was a gift of a second chance. When you first met, neither of you were ready for the kind of commitment you now share with each other, and you know now more than ever that those years with Owen and the years you spent alone were all worth it, because when history repeats itself you have the power to change the narrative. 

[qjhughes]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist here

Request anything here but be sure to read my guidelines first!

As always, if you enjoy this piece, reblog to share with your friends :))

*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. ��Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

Thank you for reading!! You can come discuss with me here!!

Permanent Taglist - @spidey-reids-2003​, @jackiehollanderr​, @scarletsoldierrr​, @thewayilookatbacon​, @parker-barnes-af​, @lost-in-the-stars03​, @kisses-holland​, @josiemara​, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​, @fanficscuziranout​,  @akila-stilinski​ @babebenhardy​ @write-from-the-heart​, @slytherinambitious​, @miraclesoflove​ @tomshufflepuff​, @quaksonhehe​, @a-different-brand-of-beans​, @dummiesshort​, @sleepybesson​, @sunshine96love​, @itstaskeen​, @wotamelonsugar​ 

Harry Styles Taglist - @alwayshave-faith​, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​, @sucker-09​ @just-chillin-out-in-me-box​, @macksmedicine @wendaiii​, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow​,

(If you’re crossed out it’s because it wouldn’t let me tag you)

[leafs-lover]

We could be friends

A/N: This is a requested piece for Matthew Tkachuck. I struggled a bit, changing the intro a few times so I hope it flows well. 

Summary: A few months after a breakup you go out with some of the Flames players for a couple drinks. You end up having a wild night with Matthew Tkachuk after you both admit  to wanting this for a while.

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), maybe something else?

Word Count: 6400

“Hanifin" you call out “you’re getting mic'd up tonight.” 

He smiles while nodding to you and continues down the hall. You work for the flames as a member of the social media team, have for the past 4 and a half months. You don’t really know a lot of the players on a personal level, most of them make casual small talk with you. 

Your interactions are kept relatively short, especially on game days. Players have a ritual, and you don’t want to intrude on their process. Beyond that you help with coordinating the media for team events, whether they are charity events or ones organized by the PR. During some of those events you get the opportunity to mingle a bit with the players, but as you are still at work you keep it professional.

After the game you are in the locker room unclipping the mic from Noah. Some players are conducting interviews while others have wandered off for a postgame treatment.  

“You coming tonight?”  

You aren’t sure if he is talking to you, even half full the room is buzzing; the boys are coming off a big win. You look up at the 6’3” defenseman who is easily 2 inches taller on his skates; he took his jersey off but waiting for the mic to come off to remove his chest protector before continuing. His light blue eyes stare down at you as he waits your response. 

“Coming where?” you ask turning the mic off. 

“A few of us were going to grab some drinks. Didn’t know if you were joining us” he explains. 

“Nah (Y/N) doesn’t come out. I’ve tried as few times but she always scurries home to her boyfriend” Tkachuk jokes coming to his stall beside Noah’s. 

Another reason why you don’t have any real relationships with the players is Mark. You have been dating for a while, and he is insecure about the fact that you work around all men, attractive men. If you spent some time outside the hockey rink you likely would have some knowledge on the boys besides their ridiculous nicknames for each other.

You haven’t wanted to cause any ripples so you never ventured out with the team. And honestly you weren’t too upset about it, after working a long day you enjoyed coming home and curling up in bed with Mark. But that all changed when you came home from the road trip a few weeks ago and found him in bed with Sarah, someone you thought was your good friend.

You shoot Matt a glance and turn back to Noah “you know I think I might come tonight” you say, turning around and walking away out of the locker room.

2 hours later you are sitting at the booth with a couple players. You quickly ran home after the game and touched up your makeup and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and your black long sleeve turtle neck. The bar is slightly casual but you don’t want to be under dressed so you throw on a pair of short heeled booties and a simple gold chain to dress it up.

A few of the older players and their significant others recently left as the time is encroaching on midnight. Some of the other players are scattered around the bar, you see Matt by the bar talking to a red head who is wearing a dress that is way too tight, and should likely have more fabric given the cool Calgary temperatures. She is laughing at one of his jokes, her hand lightly touching his forearm.

“He’s always like this” Noah says from across the table. “Makes a big deal about getting us out, team bonding and crap then wanders off never to be seen again.” You laugh hearing him say this and Noah gets up to go to the bathroom. You look down at your drink and see its basically melted ice at this point and get up heading to the bar.

As you wait for the bartender’s attention you feel a body brush up against you, you glace out the side of your eye and see light brown hair and immediately knowing who is there. The bartender walks over and you order another drink and Noah does too.

“So Matt said you have a boyfriend” he asks, you can tell he is just making small talk and doesn’t really know what to lead with.

“Uh we broke up” you respond.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be, he was a crappy boyfriend I just wish I saw it sooner” before you have a chance to continue talking and change the subject a body presses  between the two of you throwing an arm over both your shoulders.

“I can’t believe we finally get you out, and you decide to drink that garbage. I know you didn’t drink a lot but come on, 15 year olds drink that. Thought you would have acquired some tolerance by now” Matt says mocking your safe beer choice. “No hard liquor, and you went for a light beer too.”

Without responding you flag the bartender down who walks up to you “can I get four tequila shots?”

You turn your attention back to Matt “I like the taste of beer. But I went to school for communication I learned how to handle my alcohol” you say throwing back one of the tequila shots with ease.

“No salt or lime?” Noah asks watching you.

“Don’t need training wheels” you reply handing each of the boys a shot.

“Nah I’m good. I learned a while ago not to drink that poison. Have fun” he jokes setting his shot down and walking away.

“Guess you have to take two” you say as Matt shifts more of his weight to you, his hand sliding down to your mid back. You look around him to the red head that is shooting you daggers as she watches her hard work begin to unravel. You chuckle slightly because you know you won’t be going home with Matt tonight, given the choice he would obviously take home the red head.

Matt throws the first shot back, making a face as it burns going down his throat. He sets the empty glass on the bar before pulling your face close to his mouth so he doesn’t have to yell over the music.

“Maybe you should give me the passcode for your phone. That way when you start puking in the bathroom I can call your boyfriend to come get you” he jokes taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I’ll be fine, besides your little friend won’t take too kindly to me handing you my phone. She already looks like she is going to kill me just for talking to you.” You pass him the second shot and you both cheers before throwing it back, feeling the liquid slide down your throat. Matt gently squeezes your waist, likely an involuntary response to the burning from the tequila.

“I’m not too worried about her” he says placing the glass on the counter and sliding his hand further down your back, his pinky an inch above your jeans. You begin to feel a fire ignite in your core, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You play it off as the tequila playing games on you, you’re reading into this. There is no way Matt is flirting with you, he likely hasn’t even noticed where his hand is resting.

“So is your boy out of town or something?” he asks. You shoot him a questioning glance “you never come out, figured if you are it’s because he is away and won’t know” he continues. You flag down the bartender and motion for three more shots.

You don’t answer instead you turn your body slightly to face the bar, but stick your ass out a bit. You immediately throw one of the shots back, wincing slightly at the burn. You feel Matt’s hand slide off your back before you speak “no he is in town I think.”

“You think?” he asks sliding up beside you, leaning on his arm against the bar.

“Well I stopped caring what he was doing or where he was going when we broke up” you explain looking up at his dirty blonde curls.

“Oh sorry to hear that” he says smirking.

“No you’re not” you laugh back at him.

“Yeah, break ups suck. If you need anything, I mean I know we don’t know each other that well…”

“I’ve been doing alright, and these tequila I put on your tab have also helped” you smile at him inching closer to him. “But it happened like almost 2 months ago, so I’m actually pretty good.

“Two months, how did you keep it a secret?”

“Well it happened right before Christmas, and after the break there was the road trip but I didn’t go on it. And then it was all-star break. Haven’t actually worked a lot, and we aren’t really that good of friends. I didn’t consider you a top priority in informing of my personal life” you explain taking another shot.

Matt stands at the bar, holding the shot in his hand. He sways it in his hands staring at you for a minute. “Maybe we can change that” he says taking the shot, placing the glass upside down on the bar.

“Change what?” you ask.

“Us not being friends, we could be friends” he says moving closer, his thigh pressing against you. You roll your eyes at him “why can’t we be friends? We can go shopping, grab lunch. Send some text messages, maybe see a movie every now and then” his mouth is inches from your ear. You feel your knees get weak, wetness pooling in your core as you breathe in his cologne.

“Matty” you hear someone calls from behind you. Matt steps away from you and turns his attention to the voice, you look over your shoulder even though you know who is there. Up close you notice how her boobs are practically popping from her dress, and she likely spent hours doing her hair and makeup.

“Yeah” he replies slightly annoyed.

She walks up to him and is practically pressed against you, pushing you out of the way trying to capture his attention.

“Want to do a shot?” she asks coyly.

“You know I think I’m good, we’ve already done a couple” he says eyeing over to you. The red head follows his gaze, shooting you a scowl.

“Well I think we we’re thinking of heading to another bar soon anyways. This place is getting kind of boring.”

“Oh well have fun” he says to her. You immediately see anger bubble in her face, you turn away so she doesn’t see you laugh.

“You don’t want to come?” she whines.

“No I think I’m going to stay and chat with my good friend (Y/N). You have a good night.” He turns his back to her and you hear her huff out a breath of air as her heels click away. Matt looks at you and see’s the large grin on your face and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know what was better. That little interaction or you calling me your good friend.” “We could be good friends, she doesn’t know” he retorts putting his elbows on the bar beside you. “So tell me friend why did you and your boyfriend break up?”

Your eyes narrow slightly as you stare at him “good friends know about each other’s relationships. Like as my good friend you know I am single.”

He stops talking waiting for your response “he slept with my good friend Sarah. Part of the reason I’m not looking for any more good friends at the moment” you reply.

“Well as your good friend I promise to not sleep with any guys you date” he says smiling.

“What if I date a girl?” you ask.

“I promise I won’t sleep with anyone you date, man or woman. No real friend would do that” he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “You date woman too?” he asks.

“I have, yes” you take a sip. “As my friend do you have a problem with that?”

“Oh the contrary. As your friend I just want you to be happy.” You shake your head at him and chuckle “you sure you’re okay though being cheated on sucks.”

You stare up into his eyes and see concern and  sincerity looking back at you, making you think maybe he has some experience with this. You were going to make some smart ass comment about what girl broke his heart but you feel maybe this isn’t something he wants to joke about.

“We were together just under two years but since we broke up I realized how much of myself I lost. Before him I had a lot of friends, guys and girls; but early on we got in some fights on about him being uncomfortable with me hanging out with my guy friends. He thought I wanted to sleep with some of them and I would cheat which is so ironic now” you take a slow sip of your beer before continuing. “I just didn’t want to cause problems with him, found it easier to just not see them to avoid a fight. I mean I shouldn’t have given up my friends, but I saw some of them at the holidays. I’m thankful all of my old friends, guys and girls, were willing to let me back in. But I haven’t been this happy in a while” you say smiling.

“Well that’s good, if you’re happy then I’m happy for you friend” he says playfully nudging you.

“Okay good friend, tell me some things you know about me” you joke.

He stares at you for a second “if we’re good friends you should know basic stuff like my birthday, where I’m from, favourite colour. I don’t know how we can be friends if all we know is the other person is single” you say smiling.

Matt’s eyes narrow, you can see the wheels turning in his brain as he takes a sip. He sets the empty glass on the bar, taking a deep breath. “Your favourite colour is (Y/F/C); you grew up in Calgary. You like tea instead of coffee, you love the show Friends, made obvious by your Friends mug and t-shirt you have rocked at the arena. You have a major sweet tooth, but not a big fan of salty, and prefer white to red wine.” He continues to ramble on a few more facts about you before you finally cut him off “how do you know all this?”

“You caught my attention on day one, but there is still lots I don’t know.”

You turn your head to him slightly “like what?” you ask him taking a sip.

He steps closer, his thigh pressing to the back of your legs “what it takes to make your toes curl. What it sounds like when you moan.”

You choke on your drink and start coughing as you try and capture your breath. “What?” you croak out.

You feel his hand return onto the small of your back, his pinky slides through your belt loop. You take a gulp as he grins, his mouth inches from your ear. “I have thought about this since the first day I saw you, what you look like under that shirt. What you taste like, what you feel like” he stops as a shiver runs down your spine.

His hand slips slightly further down, resting above your ass. “Tell me you haven’t thought of this and I will walk away right now, act as this never happened.”

You consider his words, and remember the first time you met him. The first time you saw him was in the locker room, he was in jeans and a tight black t-shirt.

“”This is the boys locker room” Sarah says opening the door. You walk in and see the back of a man who is standing at his locker, he has on a simple outfit with a backwards baseball cap. You can see his blond curls sticking out the sides of his hat, he hears people enter and quickly turns around.

“Oh sorry Matt I didn’t think anyone was in yet” Sarah explains as your eyes lock on his.

“Oh no worries I got her early to get my things set up. I don’t think anyone is supposed to be here for another hour” he explains smiling taking a few steps towards you.

“This is (Y/N), she is starting with social media and team engagement. I’m just giving her a tour of the building.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Matt” he says sticking his hand out which you accept smiling back at him. You know who he is, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. Being a Flames fan your whole life you knew who the players were, but watching him on the ice the last couple years you developed a middle school crush on him. He skated around the rink with such ease and he seemed like someone who is fun to be around, someone who can make you laugh all the time.

Feeling his hand on yours, the same hands that you watch get in fights,  makes you begin to wonder what else they can do. You imagine what his body would look like under his shirt, your juices running down his chin. You get lost in his eyes, and don’t realize you still are holding his hand until Sarah calls you to continue the tour. You shake your head and immediately release his hand, your cheeks going red.

Matt smirks at you, running his thumb on his chin “look forward to working with you” he calls out as you turn to hide your embarrassment.

Matt is still staring at you, a sideways smirk on his face waiting for you to respond. You quickly turn your head away and whisper a soft no.

“Really? The redness on your cheek says otherwise. It tells me I am right, you have thought of this” he says shooting you a devilish grin. His mouth is now inches from your ear “tell me when your home alone, lying in bed. And you slip your fingers, actually you probably have a vibrator or two”

“Or three” you whisper softly. Matt heard you because he groans before he continues “so when you turn on your vibrator and slide it in, what do you think of? What gets you going? When you fucked your ex whose face did you picture when you would cum?” he gives your ass a light squeeze, as you feel his warm breath on your neck. You are practically dripping at his words, but you wait knowing he isn’t done “I’ll be honest, I’ve thought of you over the past few months. We’ve had some great times in my mind.”

“So tell me, have you had to bite your lip from screaming my name?”

“No” you reply lightly knowing that isn’t the answer he is looking for. You feel him tense up but before he moves away, you continue “I didn’t have to, because Mark never made me…he never…” you pause for  a minute, flustered and unsure of why you are telling him this.

“He never made you cum?” Matt growls in your ear and you just shake your head in response. You turn your head to look at him “if you let me I’ll make up for the shitty sex and-“ unsure what has come over you, you lean forward attaching your lips to his. His one hand firmly grips your ass while his other slides up to cup your face, your mouth opens allowing him more room.

You turn around in his arms, sliding your hand up to grab his bicep as your tongues dance in each other’s mouths. You feel a body nudge into you slightly and you suddenly become very aware you are making out with someone in the middle of the bar. You pull away gasping for air and whisper against his lips “take me home.”

Matt doesn’t respond instead he throws some bills on the bar quickly and pulls you out the door. You don’t even have time to zip up your coat on before he is opening the cab door and pushing you in. You slide across to the far seat and Matt crawls in sitting beside you. You smirk at him as you lean against the corner of the seat and door.

Matt tells the driver his address as the meter starts “there is a $50 tip if you keep your eyes on the road” he says, eyes dark with lust. Before you can respond he crawls over to you and slides his tongue back in your mouth, his hand slides up and down your stomach. This kiss is fast and passionate similar to the one in the bar, his hand slides under the fabric of the shirt and you pull away.

Your eyes go wide and Matt is smirking down at you. You shoot your eyes to the taxi driver “what if he looks” you whisper to him. Matt just smirks and sits up in the middle seat, pulling you to his lap.

“Can’t see anything now” he whispers before sucking on your neck. His hands are on your ass but are hidden from the driver thanks to your long coat. You rock your hips against him, feeling the outline of his bulge.

“Careful baby” he warns against your neck. You bite your lip as Matt begins nipping on your neck, you rock your hips more, getting closer to ensure Matt can feel it through the jeans.

“Last warning” he hums in your ear sucking on your ear lobe. This doesn’t stop you, in fact it encourages you to keep going. Matt’s hands come around to the front of your jeans and quickly undo the button and zipper. He brings his lips up to yours and starts kissing you, when you feel him shove his hand inside.

He pushes your soaked underwear to the side and thrusts two fingers inside of you. You pull back and take a gasp of air “I warned you babygirl” he chuckles as his fingers begin to move inside of you. You burry your head into the crook of his neck as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you “can’t wait until we get home” he whispers. His thumb begins to press circles on your clit as his other hand massages your breast.

“Can’t wait until I get to hear you scream” he sucks on your neck increasing the pace of his fingers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching, maybe because it’s been so long since another person has given you one, or it’s the tequila shots. Or it’s the fact that you’re in public with a stranger mere feet from you, something you never imagined yourself doing. Maybe it’s a combination but all you know is your orgasm is seconds away.

“Matt please” you whisper likely a little too loud.

He instead kisses your jaw “you gonna cum” he whispers. Unable to respond you nod and his fingers increase their pace. You grip Matt’s waist and bite his shoulder to try and supress your moans as he pumps you through it. You feel your walls spasm as liquid spills out coating his fingers, when you finish you rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath.

You feel his hand come out of your jeans as he gives your ass one final squeeze “we’re here.”

You look around and realize you were unaware the taxi had stopped, and you don’t even know how long you have been stopped. You roll off Matt as he pulls a $100 out of his wallet for the $20 fare. You jump out of the taxi, Matt quickly behind you. You stop on the sidewalk and attempt to do up your pants as his hands wrap around you “don’t bother, they’ll be on my floor in 2 minutes.”

Before you can react he pulls you inside to the elevator. You pull your coat in front of you, so nobody would know as you feel your cheeks flush. The doors ding close and Matt walks over standing in front of you. He gently lifts your head up to look at him “you okay?” he gently asks. ”We don’t have to do anything. I have a spare room, I can drive you home in the morning. Whatever you’re comfortable with, if it’s too soon since –“

“No it’s not that, I just can’t believe I did that. I let you finger me in a taxi, I had an orgasm and he was less than a foot away, I just can’t believe-“

“Hey” Matt says lightly kissing your forehead “first of all it was super-hot; like super-hot. I have never done anything like that before but fuck that was incredible. Two he received a very generous tip, and he could have kicked us out at any point. Besides I doubt he heard anything, you bit me pretty hard; I don’t think any sounds came out.”

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease so you lean in and kiss him. “It was a heat of the moment, next time I promise to wait until were in my apartment; assuming you want a next time.”

“At least a room with a lock on the door” you joke kissing him before the elevator dings for his floor.

“Deal” he says taking your hand and leading you down the hall. He unlocks the door and helps you out of your coat. You unzip your boots as Matt looks at you “want a drink or anything?”

You just smile and shake your head, walking towards him closing the gap between you. You jump up into his arms, he catches you with ease as he chuckles. You look into his eyes, fingers running through his curls “I want to see your bed” you say attaching your mouth to his neck.

Matt grans and carries you down the hall, stopping for a minute to turn on the bedroom light then he drops you on the bed. He grabs your ankles and pulls your jeans off your legs. A devilish grin spreads on his face before he crawls onto the bed and opens your legs. He smiles seeing the wetness in your underwear, as he hooks a finger into them pulling them down your legs.

He lies down on the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders and begins to lick some of the juices that remain from the taxi ride. “Fuck” he mumbles licking you clean “better than I imagined.” His mouth begins places kisses on your pussy, causing your legs to squirm slightly. His tongue slides inside your walls and begins to lick the inside of you.

His tongue begins flicking the inside of your pussy, your back arches off the mattress while Matt chuckles below you. He throws an arm over your waist pinning you to the bed. Your hands slide down to his hair, firmly tangling in them as his tongue continues exploring inside you.

His tongue becomes more intense pressing inside of you; he licks circles on your clit, your legs tightening around his head. You try to grind your hips, searching for more friction but he has you pinned down and laughs at your attempts.

“Keep it up and I’ll tie you to the bed” he growls before diving back in. He begins to suck on your clit for a minute before switching it with his thumb. He begins pressing circles on you as his tongue slides back inside.

Your moans become louder as your second high approaches. Your body tenses and you jolt slightly before your pussy spasms, warm liquid spills out as Matt continues to fuck you with his tongue. Matt slows his tongue as you finish, he pulls away looking up at you; your juices covering his mouth and chin.

Matt puts your legs back on the bed, and sits on his heels pulling his shirt off, exposing his hard chiseled chest.  You take him in, trying to catch your breath as he pulls his jeans off leaving him in his boxers. You can see his obvious bulge, straining the fabric waiting to be released. Matt leans down engaging you in a kiss, you can taste yourself on him, as your hands wander his bare back.

His hand slides under your shirt and pulls it over your head exposing your breasts. He leans down placing soft kisses on your stomach while his hand slips behind you undoing your clasp leaving you naked.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous” he says attaching his mouth to your breast and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You bring your hands down to the elastic of his boxer, and start to push them down his thighs, Matt helps and throws them on the floor.

You feel him line his cock up with your entrance, his tip grazing your folds. His mouth alternates sucking and nipping your neck and collarbone as he leans over to reach in the bedside table to pull out a condom. He pulls away when you reach up and grab the wrapper, placing it on the table. Matt looks confused as he stares down at you, but you have to have him in your mouth first so you push him on his back and straddle him.

You rock your hips over his hard dick a couple times before sliding down his thighs, your index finger runs down his abs to his treasure line. Finally you look down at Matt and your jaw drops a blush coming over your cheeks. Matt is average or maybe slightly longer than average but he is thick, you can tell he will destroy you, but that’s a problem for later.

You drop your head down and lick up his shaft, placing a kiss on his tip. Matt moans under you as you bring a hand and lift his cock sliding it in your mouth, gagging slightly as you taste his salty precum. You swirl your tongue around the tip as you bob on him, eventually taking him all in.

As he hits the back of your throat you gag again but keep going, bringing your hand up to massage his balls. You feel some spit begin to dribble down your chin, while Matt brings his hands to your hair. You expect him to pull it away from your face but instead he Matt pulls you off of him.

“I promised to make up for the shitty sex you’ve been having. That I wanted to make your toes curl while you screamed my name.” A pout comes across your face and Matt just laughs grabbing the condom and sliding it on, “if you keep doing that I won’t last.” He pulls you down for a kiss, and tries to push you on his back but you stop him “I want to ride you” you whisper pulling away.

“Fuck” Matt mumbles lining himself up with your folds. You quickly drop down, moaning loudly as you feel your walls being stretched by his width. You don’t give yourself time to adjust, you rise up almost completely and drop back down a few times.

“Jesus babe, you could have taken a moment” he moans putting his hands on your hips.

You place your right hand on his abs “I was worried if I waited I would get scared by the size” you joke setting a fast pace.

Matt’s hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks up into you “you’re so tight babe” he groans while you roll your hips on him. You feel your walls stretch around his thick cock, his fingers digging into your hips leaving marks.

Your breasts bounce up and down as you ride Matt as you increase the pace. He slaps your ass “fuck I’m not gonna last” he groans pulling your face down to kiss you. You feel your orgasm approaching and moan into the kiss .

“You close babygirl” he asks against your lips. Instead of responding, you slide your hands to his hair and kiss him. Matt keeps the pace, fucking up into you, pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust.

“Matt” you moan, knowing you are close.

“Cum for me (Y/N). I need you to cum for me” he moans becoming sloppy under you.

He slaps your ass one more time causing you to yelp as your walls tighten around him. You scream his name and a mixture of curse words as you spasm around him.

“Fucking hell” you hear Matt mumble before he spills inside the condom deep inside your cervix. You collapse on top of him and lie there for a minute. He gently runs his hands through your hair while both of your breathing steadies. Finally you pull yourself onto your forearms and look at Matt. He gently runs his finger up your arm as he softly kisses you.

“That was amazing” you mumble against his lips.

“Mhm” he hums rolling you onto your back and slowly pulling out. You whine at the empty feeling while Matt chuckles, leaving for the bathroom. You hear the shower start and Matt comes back to the room pulling you up from the bed so you are sitting on your heels. His hands slide around you to your back, and firmly grip your ass as he pulls you against his sweaty chest. Your hands tangle in his wet curls as you pull him in for a kiss “your sweaty” you joke attempting to push him off.

He pulls you in close, your breasts pressed into his chest. He dips down slightly and picks you up carrying you to the shower. He sets you down and steps into the warm stream, running his hands through his hair. Matt walks up behind you, and kisses your neck.

“So did I make up for all the shitty sex you were having?” he asks.

“I feel like one amazing night doesn’t make up for almost two years of crappy sex” you say laughing. “Probably have to do it one or ten more times.” Matt laughs in your ear kissing your shoulder “sounds good.”

You push your ass back against his semi-hard penis and he moans. Matt mumbles a fuck as you stand up straight letting the water hit you. You feel his hands on your waist as he presses his dick between your as cheeks; his mouth sucks on your earlobe.

“(Y/N)” he moans as you grind your hips back, feeling him harder behind you. “You have any idea what you do to me?” he growls. You turn your head and look at him, water is running down his chest “I have an idea” you moan. You reach behind you, and grip his shaft and begin stroking it up and down “you have any idea what this does to me?”

“I need you Matt” you whisper kissing him.

Matt steps away and opens the door, grabbing condom from the vanity drawer. He quickly rolls it on himself and he steps back behind you, placing a hand on your back. You feel him push inside, stretching your walls, as you brace yourself on the bench.

Matt uses a knee to spread your legs wider, pulling out and pushing back in. You cry out as he hits you deep, ramming into your cervix. His hands move to your hips and use them to pull you back against him. He pulls almost completely out, pulling your hips back and slamming back inside of you.

“Fuck” you cry out.

“God you feel so good” Matt mumbles setting a fast pace.

One hand leaves your hip and slaps your ass, as you jolt forward wincing at the pain. His hand returns to your hip, and continues to thrust in and out of you.

“You’re so fucking tight” he groans. The sound of skin flapping and moans fill the bathroom as he keeps his pace. He spreads your ass cheeks wider, pumping in and out of you. His thumb grazes over the entrance to your hole, while you whimper under him.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks drawing a grunt from you, unsure if you can have another.

“I know you can. Do it for me” he growls behind you. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud and start pressing circles on it, as Matt’s hand strokes your ass.

Matt’s pace is fast and erratic; you can tell he is close while he hits you at a deep angle, hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Come on baby” he cries out behind you. You know he is straining to keep going, waiting for you. You press hard circles into your bud; Matt bends his knees changing the angle slightly. Your walls begin to tighten as you clench around him. An intense orgasm rips through as Matt keeps his pace.

“Fuck Matt” you moan, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Matt’s dick twitch, as he spills inside the condom. Matt stills behind you, you take a deep breath. Matt’s hand caresses your back for a moment as he finally pulls out. You turn around and sit on the bench while Matt steps out to throw away the condom.

He returns to the shower, adjusting the temperature to have more hot water. He grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet; you fall against his chest as he strokes your hair. Your arms wrap around his waist, bracing yourself on him.

You feel him put some shampoo in your hair, lathering it in before gently washing it out. He gently applies body wash to you before rinsing it, you lean against the wall as he completes the process on himself. He turns the water off, kissing you and opening the door to wrap a towel around you. He puts on a pair of boxers, and pulls a t-shirt over your head.

Your eyes are heavy as you stand in his bathroom, leaning against his vanity. Matt chuckles kissing your cheek, he carefully scoops you up and carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down and pulls you into his chest, while pulling the duvet up your chest. You listen to his breathing and slowly begin to doze off.

[deppsessed]

Good Luck Charm

Hollywood Vampire Series part I

Pairing: Johnny Depp x Reader

Summary: Your lifelong dream to meet your favourite actor, Johnny Depp has finally come true. What happens when you finally come face to face with and manage to impress him?

Feedback is much appreciated

Johnny Depp. Even thinking about his name makes my heart skip a little beat. I’ve been a fan of his for years, seen just about every single one of his movies (and know just about every word in them too). When the Hollywood Vampires had announced their latest world tour a few months back, there was no doubt about me trying to get VIP tickets, but I’d somehow managed to end up with something better. My best friend, Alex, works at the concert venue, and for my birthday, had given me an ‘access all areas’ pass for the show. Not only would I be seeing the concert, but I had full access to backstage. But the thing I was still trying to wrap my head around was the fact that I’d be meeting Johnny Depp.

I’d been thinking about it for months. What was I going to wear? What was I going to say to him? Or would I find a way to make a complete idiot of myself?

Today was going to be the day that I’d finally find out. After days of planning out my outfit, I’d decided on something a little grungy, a pair of ripped skinny jeans, a Jim Morrison t-shirt (to maybe grab Johnny’s attention), leather jacket, and a pair of Dr Martens boots. With it being a Hollywood Vampires concert, it only felt appropriate to dress up a little vampy.

“Y/N! Hey! Hi!”

It’s Alex, and she has her arms open ready to hug me.

“How do I look?” I ask once I pull back and give a little twirl to show off my outfit.

“Like you’re about to catch Johnny Depp off guard and take his breath away.” 

I snorted. “Very funny.” 

“Don’t act as if that wasn’t the answer that you were wanting!”

I have to hand it to her, she knows me well, but she has been my best friend since we were kids.

“I hardly slept last night thinking about it…”

Alex laughs and shakes her head. I know she’ll find it amusing and pretty typical of me.

“But now you’re here, I can give you the whole backstage tour. Come right this way.” 

She ushers me towards a door with the lettering “Artists and personnel only”. After a couple of minutes of walking down one corridor, it opens up to a giant concrete looking area. I’m shown places like the wardrobe room, where all of the band's clothes are already hanging up, ready for the show later. The band's green room, where there are bottles of alcohol ready to be opened. The highlight had been seeing the rack of Johnny’s guitars and better yet, the marked out dressing rooms for the band members. The pre-show buzz was starting to take hold with people running about the place in all sorts of different directions.

By the time that we’re done, it’s time to go to meet and greet. Alex escorts me back down the long concrete corridor, to the meet and greet hall. 

“Good luck! And promise you’ll tell me everything later.” 

The room is already teaming with a couple of hundred fans, all waiting for Johnny, Alice and Joe to come on through. I’m not feeling nervous, but instead, excited. The room erupts into a fit of screams as the band enters the room. My eyes instantly look onto Johnny. He’s wearing one of his usual edgy Hollywood Vampires outfits with layers of jewellery. He’s even more handsome in person. It doesn’t even bother me that I’m at the back of the line, it means more time to be able to look at, and soak up the feeling of being in the same room as him. It’s endearing watching him interact with his fans because he takes his time and indulges every single one of them. I know that when he eventually gets to me, it’s going to be worth it.

Needless to say, when I’m next (and decidedly last) in line, he’s looking a little worse for wear, as if he’s between needing a good drink, a cigarette and a nap… or maybe all three at once, somehow. I hadn’t figured out what my first words to him were going to be, but I wanted to be memorable. Not just for being the last fan. But for not fitting into all the other conversations that I’ve been overhearing him having. I’m not going to be starstruck, he’s only another person.

“You know, if you want to take a moment for yourself to smoke a cigarette or have a drink, you can. I’m not going to go screaming from the rooftops about it.” 

Right away, he’s raising an eyebrow at me, as if he’s uncertain by the invitation. 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I’ve got all day.” 

I can see the little bit of reluctance disappear from his face, and while he doesn’t take up the offer of a drink right away, he does reach into his pocket for his rolling tobacco -- despite all of the no-smoking signs around the room, nobody is going to be telling him off. 

“Do you smoke too?” He asks, offering me the packet. I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t put that stuff into my lungs willingly.” I can see his eyebrow-raising again, he obviously isn’t going to retaliate with anything. I let him light up his cigarette and move for the next subject change. I’ve overheard people telling him how much they love the album, and the fact that they do a mixture of original stuff and covers.

 “I love the album, you know, Heroes is my favourite cover because you get to sing…” What I haven’t heard once is the suggestion of other songs. “School’s Out is good, but Poison would sound amazing with you and Joe on guitar. I keep thinking how something by the Rolling Stones would sound cool too, like, ‘Paint it Black’ or ‘Sympathy for the Devil’, kind of feels like it would be Alice’s kind of aesthetic.” 

I’m not sure where the apparent confidence is coming from, but I’m happy to run with it, especially when Johnny seems to be visibly impressed by it. His lips pull into a grin, clearly amused by the last part of my statement and what I’m trying to get at.

“I wouldn’t be too fooled by the gothic exterior, he’s a softie, deep down.” He pauses to take a drag on his cigarette. “I’ve always wanted to do something by The Doors… A vamped up version of Light my Fire or something.” Ah, so he has spotted the t-shirt.  

“Good choice.” I’m hardly going to tell him that there are plenty other songs out there that I think they could do better, but then again, maybe he’s secretly testing me and wants me to. “Break on Through to the other side would sound even better.” 

He’s impressed, the way that his eyes light up really shows it. I can see his mouth open, ready for a response for me, when one of the band's security interjects and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Johnny, I’m sorry, but we’re already running ahead of schedule here-”

He scowls, evidently irritated at the fact he’s being told to move things along. 

“I’m sorry,” He pauses and pushes his hand through his hair. “But what are your plans after the show? I’d love to see you at the party and maybe buy you a drink...”

Is this a dream? I’ve got to be dreaming. This isn’t happening.

“I’d love that.” I’m trying to keep my composure and not show my excitement, or the fact I’m freaking out on the inside. 

“Great -- what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” 

He holds his hand out to me to shake. “I’m Johnny.” 

--- 

The music is loud, or maybe my ears are still ringing a little bit from the concert. The band had been simply incredible! I swore that Johnny had been looking right at me at a few points, and even going as far as to wink. Tonight was shaping up to be something.

Johnny had stuck to his promise and put my name on the guestlist for the show after-party. I was still trying to get my head around what was happening. I was at a Hollywood Vampires after-party, and it was everything that I had imagined it to be. The place was decked out in black and red decor, and fittingly playing old classic rock from the speakers. I feel like I’m standing out a little bit. Everyone seems to know each other one way or another and are engrossed in some kind of conversation. 

“You made it,” The voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Johnny Depp is standing right behind me. “I didn’t have any other invites,” As if I would have been anywhere else. “The show was amazing, by the way, you were great.” He’s probably had people coming up to tell him all night, but it still feels appropriate.  

“How do you feel about meeting the band and then I’ll buy you that drink?” My widened eyed expression is enough for him to laugh. “I’ll introduce you, come on.” 

The Hollywood Vampires are standing at the other side of the room, laughing together like a bunch of teenage boys. “Guys!” He holds his hand up to try and get their attention. “This is y/n, the girl I was telling you about from meet and greet.” 

He’d been talking about me. 

“And the reason that Johnny was almost late!” The band start to laugh in unison and Johnny shakes his head and lets out a defeated sigh. 

“This is Tommy, Joe and I don’t think that Alice really needs an introduction...” I shake hands with them all in term, but when it comes to Alice, he’s glaring at Johnny. “Hey!” He objects and again, the band are just about on the floor laughing. Making fun of each other in turn is a thing, it seems. 

“I feel like I should be offering to buy you all a drink, what an amazing show you pulled off.” 

“Thank you, darlin’, really glad that you enjoyed it.” Alice replied, “But we’re buying you the drink.” We stand and talk for a little while, mainly about music, before Johnny buts into the conversation. 

“Now if you guys wouldn’t mind excusing us, I do believe I promised the lady a drink.”  

I can feel a blush rise into my cheeks at the realisation that he’s talking about me. “It was nice meeting you guys, good luck for the rest of the tour.” We say our pleasantries and goodbyes. The group disperses, leaving just me and Johnny standing.

“Another admittance on my part, I don’t enjoy these after-parties, they’re too loud for my taste.” He scratches the back of his neck, as if he’s a little nervous . “I know I’m being bold, but would you like to come back to the hotel with me for that drink?”

Pinch me.

Johnny Depp’s hotel suite is bigger than my entire studio apartment. It shouldn’t be a surprise to me that it’s that extravagant, but it’s straight-up like something out of Pretty Woman. It’s a little hard not to stare with your mouth open around the place. Plus the fact, I’m in his hotel room. 

“Pick your poison,” He gestures towards the rooms mini-bar, “Or if none of this is suitable, I can call for room service.”

I shake my head, “A bottle of beer is fine, you don’t need to order a bottle of champagne on ice on my account.” Johnny laughs and grabs a bottle of pass over to me, which I twist the lid from and bring it up to my lips for a taste. 

“You’re an easy girl to impress.”

 I scoff, there are plenty out there that I’m sure would say otherwise. “Somewhat.” 

He, too, grabs a bottle of beer and sits down on the bed. We start to talk, he wants to know about my life, my job, my friends... And while I’m more than certain of the fact that I’m boring the pants off of him, he’s listening as if he’s absorbing and holding onto every word.

When I tell him about my love for poetry, his eyes light up in curiosity. “Who would you say is your favourite poet?” 

I want to set out and impress him, tell him the name of somebody he hasn’t heard before, but I go with my heart. “Oscar Wilde -- I know, it’s a typical answer but there’s just something about his writing which resonates with the soul.” 

“I’d agree, actually-” He pauses to bring his beer bottle up to his lips. “There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it’ is one that’s always stuck with me.” 

“I can resist everything but temptation.” I grin at him and shrugged my shoulders, always a quote that I’ve related to.

I look back at him, to notice where his gaze is, right at my lips. Before I have a second to comprehend what’s going on, he leans forward, his lips brushing against mine. It takes me by surprise. Johnny Depp is trying to kiss me.

“I’m sorry, shit, I’m sorry. It’s just-” He starts to hastily explain. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I thought-” 

He doesn’t get his last word out because I bring my lips back onto his to return the kiss. It’s soft, slow, and tender. I feel his tongue trace along my bottom lip, as if asking to deepen the kiss.

I’m kissing Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp is kissing me. 

I don’t know how to comprehend it.

Or how I’m even going to begin to tell Alex when she texts me tomorrow.