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user472974844 · 17 days

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noriaki kakyoin x (fem) reader

a little out of character but the world keeps spinning 🤑 he's obv at least 18 in this... i'm doing god's work because there's a heinous lack of kakyoin smut.

this is kinda some kinky fucking shit... basically you edge him and he cries :3

"hahh fuck..." your boyfriend hisses, teeth clenched as you furiously lick and suck at his neck.

"you're mine, noriaki," you whisper in his ear, hands grasping onto his large shoulders, feeling them tense and ripple as he strains.

"m-mhm i'm yours... 'm so sorry..." he whispers, hands gripping your hips, holding you close. "i didn't mean to..."

he trails off, eyes fluttering closed as you bite into his neck, pressing your body further into his.

earlier that morning, some of jotaro's fangirls caught sight of kakyoin with him, and took quite the interest in him. the moment you stormed off, kakyoin felt his heart drop and immediately wished he'd told all of them off. he spent the rest of the day dreading seeing you, knowing you would have that same sad look you'd had that morning in your eyes.

while you assured him you weren't mad at him, only the girls, he wasn't convinced, and promised he'd spend the rest of the weekend with you.

which is how he found himself in this position, his uniform shirt unbuttoned and falling off of his shoulder, you straddling one of his thighs.

his breathing is labored as you continue kissing his neck. "good thing my dad thinks we're asleep," you breathe in his ear, his entire body erupting in goosebumps. "he'd kill you if he saw us right now."

kakyoin chokes back a whimper. "please... i- i've never f-felt like this before." his head lolls back, encouraging more kisses to his neck. "feels so... so good..." he sighs.

you suck a small bruise right under his ear, another down his neck, and another and another until he's squirming and gasping. his cock's throbbing against his slacks with need, and his hips twitch forward, pressing ever so slightly into your knee.

when you continue your assault of hickeys and marks down his neck and across his broad shoulder, his eyes just barely open, glancing down at the way your skirt rides up your thighs. he fully whimpers at this and lets his head flop back again, breathing erratic.

"please... more..." his hips buck against your leg again, mind on nothing but the feeling of your soft, plush lips against his sensitive skin. he's almost convinced he can cum, just like this, with nothing more.

his breath catches in his throat and he gasps as your hand finds it way to his bulge, giving it a small squeeze.

"y-you--" he starts, his voice cracking before he shuts it in embarrassment. "i n-- i need you... oh god please." he breathes, hips bucking slightly. "i'm... please more..."

his hand finds its way up to your hair, gripping it gently and guiding your head to kiss his neck further, harder. "i need you," he repeats, voice filled with a desperation.

you smile into his neck, trailing your hand down his chest, his torso, and back up. he exhales a sharp breath. "please," he whispers, his other hand landing on the small of your back. "stop teasing..."

you continue rubbing his chest and stomach and he whines, head flopping forward as you run a thumb over his nipple. he's convinced he's never needed anything in his life as much as he needs you to touch him. the thought of you stopping sends a rush of panic through him, and he instinctively presses his hand harder against your back, trying to pull you closer.

"i'm not going anywhere, my love," you breathe out, finally, finally bringing your hand back over his bulge and giving it a small squeeze. he moans whorishly and tilts his head back. "yes... thank you... don't stop... please..."

you pull your hand away and he lets out a pathetic noise. "no--" his voice cracks and his face flushes. "i- i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry my beautiful girl, i'll never let them even look at me again, please, i love you so much..." he babbles, voice a couple octaves higher than normal. you've barely even touched him and he's so desperate.

deciding to take mercy on him, you slowly unbutton his pants. kakyoin almost grimaces at the continuous teasing. he immediately lifts his hips for you to pull them down, bunching them up at his mid thighs and leaving him in his boxers.

kakyoin wonders how he got to be like this so quickly. whenever he'd imagined times like this, he always pictured himself fucking you, and while he wouldn't fully admit it to himself, he loved the thought of being rough with you, completely overpowering you and making you a mess. but now, as he lay beneath you, gasping and twitching, he finds himself loving the way you so easily weaken and control him. it makes his mind numb, desperately wanting more.

"you want me to take care of you, noriaki?" you slowly rub your hand up and down his cock over his boxers. he nods frantically.

"y-yes... yes p-please."

you continue stroking him through his boxers, the friction making him hiss loudly. he lets his hands make their way up your body, slightly trembling hands finding the buttons on your own uniform shirt. "can i?" he whispers.

you nod with a smile and he undoes the first few buttons on your shirt, giving him a direct look at your tits in your bra that leaves very little to the imagination. he groans, hips bucking and grinding up into your hand.

you lean closer to him, tits pressed right against his bare chest and he breathlessly moans. your cold hand dips inside his boxers, finding its way around his cock. the coolness of your hand makes him arch his back with a small grimace, hands finding the sheets to ground himself.

"you're so desperate noriaki..." you giggle, not yet moving your hand.

"yes... yes i'm so desperate, please just--" he's cut off with a gasp for air as you begin moving your hand, torturously slowly up his cock, then back down.

kakyoin sighs, closing his eyes. his abdomen twitches every time your hand comes in contact with his tip and he realizes he's never known how sensitive he is. his hair is disheveled, some strands sticking to his face and neck with sweat. he processes that he probably looks like a mess right now, with his heaving chest and trembling legs, but can't really bring himself to care.

"please..." he whimpers softly, his gaze pleading. you grin and pull his boxers down his hips, leaving them bunched up with his slacks and fully freeing him. the sight is terribly lewd, with his rock hard cock an agitated red color, tip glistening and leaking with precum. his entire length is visibly twitching and throbbing and kakyoin's mouth hangs open.

he squeezes his eyes shut, a violent blush creeping up his chest, neck and face at the way you gaze at his cock. "s-- please-- stop staring, i-- it's--" he trails off with a hard swallow when you look up into his eyes, cocking an eyebrow. "fuck..." is all he manages to breathe out.

kakyoin's hand comes up to cover his gaping mouth when you grasp his cock in your hands again, eyes rolling up as you rub your thumb in circles along his frenulum.

"don't stop... please don't stop, i can't take it if-- if-- if you-- fuckfuck hnngg--" his body tenses as you begin to stroke him slowly.

a bead of sweat drips down his face, and he squeezes his eyes shut when you leave wet, open-mouthed kisses along his chest. he's never been touched like this, and finds himself very overwhelmed.

"noriaki..." you say sweetly. "i have a little idea... you wanna bring out hierophant?"

he looks at you with a desperate look in his eyes, not fully processing what you said, but letting out a whiny "mhmm" nonetheless.

he summons hierophant green, and you have kakyoin sit it next to him. feeling very odd about your actions, you run your hand up and down hierophant's thigh. "so... if i jerk him off, will you feel it?"

kakyoin lazily lifts his head to look at you "y-yes-- in theory--" he chokes. "please h-hurry-- i don't think i can take m-much more--"

a hand comes to cup his cheek and he immediately leans into your touch, cock twitching at the treatment. you shake your head. "you're such a strong boy, i know you can take it," you say, thumb stroking his cheek. with that, you trail your fingers the rest of the way up hierophant's leg, up to its dick. "the safeword is cupcake."

the feeling of wrapping your hand around a stand's cock isn't a normal one, but the reaction kakyoin has makes up for it.

he gasps loudly, hands pulling and twisting at the sheets. the sensation of his stand being touched and not him is too much and not enough all at once and it sort of sends him spiraling.

"oh my god oh my god i need more... i-- i-- cant cum like this, p-please don't make me, not enough please i need more," he pleads, hips bucking wildly. he knew he'd make you pay for this one way or another, but wasn't too focused on that at the moment.

"please," he sounds like he's gonna cry. you take pity on the poor boy, wrapping your other hand around his cock too. the dual sensation is almost too much and he cries out, back arching as he forcefully presses his head into the bed. "FUCK."

"is that too much? should i stop?"

"NO--" his voice cracks. "no p-please you-- you can't stop i can't-- please don't stop," his voice is terribly whiny and many octaves higher than normal.

"god noriaki, you're a mess right now..." you move your hand, torturously slowly, up his cock. he lets out a small, tearless sob when you rub your thumbs along the slit of both his and his stand's cocks.

he gasps and writhes, head thrashing back against the pillow he's laying on. "pleaseeee please please m-more-- pleaseee i'm-- i'm gonna c-cum--" he hiccups, jaw clenching as he throws his head back.

"please... please say i can cum... tell me i can, i need you-- y-you n-need to say it puh- please P-PLEASE..." his voice raises in urgency as he hurtles towards his climax much too quickly for his liking. "PLEASE SAY IT--" he stops, gasping, right on the brink.

and you pull away. his entire body jerks and he cries out, back arching as his cock throbs painfully.

"NO, PLEASE--" his voice quivers. you clap a hand to his mouth. "noriaki, you're gonna get us caught... fuck you're so hot like this though."

kakyoin's eyebrows are furrowed like he's about to cry, eyes pleading with you, his chest heaving with every sharp breath he takes.

you pull your hand away from his mouth and kiss him gently. "this is your punishment for earlier. i don't fucking like it when you let other bitches flirt with you."

he tilts his head back, eyes shut, breath heavy. "fuck im so sorry..." he whines. "i don't-- i don't know w-why i w-would--" he shudders and his hips jerk into nothing as another bead of precum leaks from his tip. "fuck..."

you begin to slowly move your hand along hierophant's cock, and kakyoin lets out a high pitched, frantic whine.

he's drenched in sweat, his entire body shaking. his usually well-styled hair sticks to his face in clumps and his hands hurt with the death grip he has on the sheets.

"do you need me to stop? i don't want it to be too much."

"no, no," he gasps. "i c-c-can-- i c-can take it--"

"god noriaki imagine someone else seeing you like this. imagine jotaro seeing you like this."

kakyoin's hips arch up and he squeezes his eyes shut, nostrils flaring. "stop... don't... d-don't say that-- i c-can't-- i don't w-want them to s-see m-e like this..." his voice trembles violently and you wonder how much more of this he can actually take.

"poor baby, i'm sorry for being so mean...

i just love seeing you like this." you press some more kisses to his chest, intensifying your ministrations. his breathing had finally settled, until you nip and suck at the skin on his chest, shuffling down to give the same treatment down his lean stomach. you can't help but leave many marks, loving the way he squirms and gasps under you, bottom lip bitten to the point of swelling. his ears and face burn a bright red color, extremely flustered. "please..." he whispers.

you continue to only jerk off hierophant green and kakyoin tugs at the sheets, eyes rolling almost completely up into his head. "p-please i-- im sorry-- i promise it won't happen again--" his voice is incredibly strained, and to your shock, a couple tiny holes have been ripped into your sheets from his nails.

you run your hand up his abs and chest, nails gently raking down his skin on the way back down. finally, finally you wrap your hand around his cock again. kakyoin whimpers, his body tensing as you tighten your grip.

he forces his eyes to stay open, focusing on the way your small hand wraps around his large cock. the sight expels any breath he has in his lungs sharply and he gasps for air. "you're so beautiful..." he breathes, the whine in his voice audible.

finally you begin to move your hand again and his jaw falls open, trembling. his eyes squeeze shut yet again beneath furrowed brows and he can only mewl pathetically.

you keep a horribly slow pace, one that ensures he can't cum, and he gasps for air like he's dying. so dramatic.

"let's hope my dad's asleep, noriaki, wouldn't want him hearing you, would we?"

he shakes his head furiously, eyes still shut tight. he imagines you in his position, trapped under him, begging and whining and pleading for more. he'd make you wait until you couldn't take it anymore, and then draw it out even longer. he would make a fucking mess out of you. he groans breathlessly and pictures you tied up, begging pathetically for his cock. in his fantasy, he's not as whiny and desperate as he is now. in his fantasy, he's in complete control, fucking you brutally while you scream his name. he can practically hear the way your voice would sound, hoarse from crying out his name. your plush lips would form into a beautiful pout as you silently beg him to let you cum.

kakyoin shudders and is pulled from his thoughts by you kissing his neck again. he realizes how sensitive his neck is and panics slightly. "w-wait wait wait 'm gonna cum-- you-- you gotta stop-- 'm fucking sensitive--" his voice is frantic.

noriaki kakyoin has always been such a calm, reserved, collected person. he realizes he loves being forcefully taken out of this state.

"i love you so much, please let me cum-- i need it so bad. i'll do anything you want, i don't care-- please just let me--"

he almost squeals as he nears his climax again. he attempts to speak but he's so beyond fucked out, his words come out as incoherent jibberish. he gasps and pants and writhes and--

you pull your hand away from kakyoin's cock, but not his stand's. he lets out a long, pained groan and arches his back hard. "NO, PLEASE, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME--" he cries out, immediately clapping a hand to his mouth. he feels tears pricking in his eyes and he closes them, chest and shoulders heaving.

when he opens his very bright eyes, he looks at you with a quivering lip. "p-please i-- i can't t--" he hiccups, a tear rolling down his cheek. "i can't take anymore." he lets his head flop down, each intake of breath shaking as another tear falls from his eyes.

you feel your heart break and your pussy throb at the same time. fuck. "noriaki, my sweet boy i didn't mean to make you cry. i'm so sorry, please don't cry," you cup his face in both of your hands, pulling him towards you to kiss him tenderly.

you pull his head in gently so he's resting against your chest, hiccuping, and he lets out a sob. "are... you gonna let me cum?" he whimpers, looking up at you with shining eyes. his hands find their way to your top, which is hanging off one of your shoulders, and he clings to it, shaking.

"of course i will, you've been so good," you coo, stroking his hair. you feel truly horrible for making the poor boy cry, and you hold him tighter. "i'm so proud of you. you're doing such a good job, i'm so sorry for teasing you so much."

"it's o-ok--" he whispers, another tear rolling down his cheek and onto his trembling lip.

you kiss his forehead and hold him close. "i love you noriaki, i can't believe how good you're being. can you forgive me for making you cry?"

he nods, sniffling. "please make me cum," his voice is barely audible.

"of course baby, im so proud of you."

you let him go and he sniffles again, taking deep, shaking breaths.

you wrap your hand around both cocks again and begin to slowly stroke. kakyoin gasps and brings his grip back to your shirt, twisting and pulling the fabric between his fingers. he buries his face in your neck and pants, preparing himself to be edged again.

"please don't tease me anymore, i'm begging you. i can't take it anymore, i've been so good, please just-- AH--" he's cut off as you rub his and his stand's tips.

the feeling of being jerked off alone is enough, and the way you also touch his stand creates an unbearable amount of stimulation. no wonder he's crying.

"shh it's ok noriaki, just relax, i promise i'll let you cum, ok?"

he nods frantically and you speed up your hand. kakyoin nibbles on his lip, hard, and he groans at the slight pain.

you tighten your grip around his and hierophant's cocks and he shudders, nails digging into your shoulders as he desperately holds onto you.

"it hurts... it hurts so bad... i just... need to cum..." he says between gasps. "i'm... i just... i can't..." his words come out mildly slurred and a small spot of drool seeps from the corner of his mouth.

"you're so good for me, noriaki, good job, baby, i love you so much," you whisper in his ear, kissing his head as you continue your ministrations. "i love you too," his voice is a high-pitched whisper, and he's finally not crying anymore.

his lips slowly and gently kiss your neck, inhaling your scent. he groans shamelessly and kisses harder, sucking and licking. you let out a breathless chuckle. "thank you noriaki, that feels very good."

he hugs onto you tighter, hips involuntarily twitching and bucking up into your hand. he's impossibly close and he mewls loudly, throwing his head back as his adam's apple bobs. his neck looks incredibly enticing and you can't help kissing it again.

"that's it... that's it fuck i'm g-gonna cum im gonna cum im gonna fucking cum please... p-please say i can-- i need you to say it... please please say it... i-- i-- PLEASE SAY I CAN CUM--" his voice is nothing short of hysterical and his body shakes violently, muscles tensing and un-tensing.

"go ahead noriaki, you've been so good."

kakyoin's body freezes for a moment, you speed up your hands, and he falls apart. his nails scratch into your back as he shakily clings to you, his neck stains as his vision goes white, overwhelming shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body.

"FUCKFUCKFUCK--" he cries out, letting out filthy whimper after filthy whimper. his cock, hot to the touch, pulses as he finally cums an ungodly amount, releasing all over his stomach and your hand. you jerk him through his climax, kissing his forehead and face all over. his abdomen spasms and his toes curl. his orgasm lasts almost painfully long, the pleasure beyond overwhelming. he finally lets out a dejected whine of overstimulation and you let his cock go.

his body finally relaxes and he flops against you, still clinging to you lazily. "thank you," he whispers, his voice back to his regular low, smooth grumble.

"of course. can you forgive me for being so mean?"

he nods against you, heavy breathing slowing down. "'m not mad..."

"can i clean you up now?" you stoke his hair softly, holding him closer to you. he shakes his head. "wanna lay here some more..."

you nod and hold him even tighter. "thank you for taking it so well, i'm so proud of you."

he nuzzles his face further into your chest, breathing evening out. "thank you," he breathes out, almost inaudible. "i love you."

"i love you more," you whisper. he closes his eyes and you grab his face. "noriaki, let's get you cleaned up before you fall asleep, yeah?"

his eyes flutter open, looking at you and nodding. you grab his shoulders and lay him back softly. you grab one of your stuffed animals and set it on his bare chest. he snorts in laughter and grabs it, grinning. "doggy? i feel honored."

you smile and kiss his forehead again, running to your bathroom to grab a rag.

you wet the washcloth and fill up a cup of water. returning to your room, you see kakyoin's eyes shut peacefully, mouth slightly agape as he snoozes, holding your stuffie. in an attempt to not wake him, you gently wipe his cum off of his stomach, and off of your hands. you wipe his cock gently and he wakes, eyes fluttering open with a soft gasp.

"i'm sorry, i'm just getting you cleaned up. drink some water," you help him sit up and hand him the glass of water. he gulps it down quickly, some water dribbling from one of the corners of his mouth.

"thank you," he whispers, grabbing your waist and pulling you down on top of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"sleep with me," me murmurs. "i'm exhausted."

"i bet you are," you say. "i put you through the wringer."

he chuckles softly and lets his eyes close again, almost immediately shutting his eyes. kakyoin quickly drifts off to sleep, holding you tightly, very content.

i'll make another part if anyone fucks with this

#jjba #noriaki kakyoin #jjba smut

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haptureratch · 2 years

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I’m about to go on a long trip with my mom, and things are going to be amazing during that time. But eventually I’m going to have to get back to therapy.

This is for that time.

From the moment it started I knew what I was doing with my Johnny Knoxville obsession. I knew it was the means to an escape from all of this discomfort, confusion, frustration, and hopelessness. What better distraction from your pain than watching a pretty man fly across the screen, causing himself pain but meeting it with laughter? What a fucking weirdo; sign me up completely.

We can get deep about nostalgia and friendships, courage and stupidity. But basically I need distraction and to fill my various voids with parasocial plugs. And I think some day I will make a separate post to wax poetically about Jackass because that’s what I enjoy doing and I’m going to allow my actions to have meaning and bring fulfillment no matter how silly and manufactured it may be. -- Does it really matter if you’re being inspired or touched in some way by a stranger versus a real person in your life? Inspiration INHERENTLY is not wrong. The source in this case is not wrong (i.e., he’s not harming anyone except himself and his friends and I forgive the social callousness of some of those cringey early bits). The inner quality of the inspiration is whatever I want it to be; strong, pure, etc, that’s all on me. The outer quality of the inspiration is the only thing that’s dubious. I can’t exactly call him up and express my reflections on life inspired by his work the way I could with an inspirational family member. But situations like this are normal. They themselves had idols, too. The Matt Hoffman Evel Knievel special is proof. Knoxville tore his fucking urethra for it.

So yes, in a way it’s not the highest quality most fulfilling and meaningful thing I could attach myself to. But it’s not for nothing.

The issues lies with my core negative belief that I am pathetic. That I don’t have the skills or inherently good qualities that facilitate dual-directional relationships and I will always just be the fangirl that shouts into the void of the internet. My core negative beliefs are so strong that I beat myself up about the ways in which I fangirl. Like, HOW I shout into the void instead of forming online friendships with fellow fans and shouting to them about our blorbos. It’s because I hear so much about the meaning of life lying in people and connections----literally cried last night watching episode 9 (?) of The Patient where Steve Carell is talking about just that. I hear it, I take it in, I take stock of how it’s going in my life, and I get very scared. I have always been a loner for many reasons. And ultimately I think I’m scared of my existence being invalid. I literally had a panic attack the other night because I feared I was getting too lost in fantasies. (And THIS is why, kids, I can never take any hallucinogenics no matter how therapeutic others say they are. I have the ability to go full psych ward and I am SO TERRIFIED that reality will just break and I’ll never come back.)

Side note: can I make that joke? “to go full psych ward” -- Yeah, I think I can. I remember back in nursing school (8 lifetimes ago) when I did my capstone course at a really awesome in-patient facility and I felt so fucking awkward and a little scared because I didn’t know why I was allowed to wear the button up shirt and walk around with the clipboard while the patients I saw as my equals had to be patients.

SHAWTY HOW THE FUCK DID I EVER WANT TO BE A SURGEON LMAO WOW GOD COMPLEX REALLY WON THAT ONE HUH

Psychology is an inextricable part of me. It was one of my first passions.

But anyway, I think I’ve said what I needed to say and I’ll deconstruct my identities later.

P.S. That’s so fucking funny how is a surgeon of any kind (especially a general or trauma or burns surgeon) going to even write a journal entry like this. COULD YOU IMAGINE DR W. ?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!??! I truly may have wanted that career for how it would have made me look. For all of my introspection, I really may have pulled a fast one on myself. .... A fast one that lasted 6 years lol.

----

Nope, one other thing. The chameleon effect. The little white book about bad decisions that I stopped reading and need to finish. It’s so important. You become what you believe. They cited so many studies showing measurable changes in whatever variable based off of bias and expectation. I can take that science and use it to improve my life. For close to two decades I have been orbiting around positivity with a Pluto-like trajectory, sometimes veering very far off and other times much closer. I need to get close again. These studies are lighting me up. If I have the ability to change the way my depression controls my life and possibly age better / decrease my chronic pain, etc, then I NEED to do it.

#haven't done THIS in a while #when she wrote

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sugamamacustard · 3 years

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🍢 🍡 (A/B/O) Menu 🍡🍢

My A/B/O verse ↦ Here! My rules ↦ Here!

Appetizer (🍚)= Angst Dessert (🍪)= Fluff Breakfast (🥞) = Social media! AU Lunch (🍙) = non-specified AU! (Other than social media; Mafia! Werewolf/vampire!, angel/demon!, etc) Supper (🍘)= Smut/ NSFW Happy hour (🍸) = Yandere Specials (🍮)= My personal favorites 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 🍡 Order up!

↳Reach so high ( 🍪)

Summary: You’re used to the world around you not being kind to the vertically impaired, but you and you’re alpha get through it.

Ingredients: Alpha! Tendo Satori, Alpha! Nishinoya Yu

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Sweet Little Chick ( 🍸, 🍙(Mafia! AU))

Summary: The Karasuno Crows fell to the will of one person and one person alone. You were expected to do the same to the mama crow.

Ingredients: Alpha! Mafia boss! Sugawara Koushi

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN-- But Reader ends up in a dress and thigh highs, so take as you will)

↳ Come see me ( 🍚, 🍪, 🍮 )

Summary: Being a manager for Nekoma was a thankless job, but one you were proud to do. You were surrounded by alphas who wanted what was best for you and in turn, you wanted what was best for them. However, sometimes what’s best for them…may not be best for you or your omega.

Ingredients: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Knock me out ( 🍪)

Summary: When your omega demands to see your alpha, you can’t help but oblige, but unfortunately, someone else see’s you before he does.

Ingredients: Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Fire man ( 🍘 )

Summary: Your heat hits unexpectedly and it’s up to your alpha to help you through it. How is he doing it?

Ingredients: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo, Alpha! Toru Oikawa, Alpha! Kotaro Bokuto

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem!)

↳ Double Trouble ( 🍪)

Summary: Inarizaki is known for many things above the surface, but only few know what great treasure lies deep within the pack.

Ingredients: Alpha! Osamu Miya, Alpha! Atsumu Miya

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem!)

↳ Level Headed ( 🍪, 🍘, 🍮 )

Summary: Betas were known for one thing and your alpha loved you all the more for it. So he shows you his gratitude.

Ingredients: Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi

Serving: Beta! Reader (Fem!)

↳ Please don’t let me go ( 🍚, 🍪 , 🍘 , 🍙 (Shifter! AU))

Summary: You were excited when the other packs joined yours, even finding solace in one of the alphas of one, but suddenly, you weren’t needed. Wanted. Not what he desired. And that hurt. So you do the only thing you can think of. Try to find someone who will comfort your poor omega heart.

Ingredients: Alpha! Kuroo Tetsuro

Serving: Omega! Reader (Pretty GN, but I said the word c*nt, so take it as you will)

↳ Please don’t let me go (Part 2!) ( 🍪 , 🍙 (Shifter! AU))

Summary: Thanks to Kuroo, your place in the pack has been cemented. But what made it waver in the first place? How can the rest of the pack change what has already happened.

Ingredients: Alpha! Kuroo Tetsuro

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Feral animal ( 🍪, 🍮 )

Summary: You just wanted to get the boys to practice on time. You weren’t prepared to deal with this. Good thing you had a guardian angel- or should we say, dog.

Ingredients: Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ One more time ( 🍪, 🍮 )

Summary: You loved your small little family, but your alpha felt there was something missing.

Ingredients: Alpha! Toru Oikawa

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN, but a baby is born, so take it as you will)

↳ Puppy ( 🍘, 🍮)

Summary: It wasn’t supposed to hit you as hard as it did, but when your heat came and blindsided you, you were left staggering for a way out. Luckily, your alpha knows you better than anyone else.

Ingredients: Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem! Reader)

↳ Two for one special ( 🍪 )

Summary: You weren’t even a manager. You were a medic for the Nekoma team and yet, you still caught they of not one, but two, powerhouse alphas. What could go wrong, right?

Ingredients: Alpha! Satori Tendo, Alpha! Yuu Nishinoya (Poly)

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Rut ( 🍘)

Summary: You and your alpha have been through so much together, but how are the reacting when their rut hits?

Ingredients: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo, Alpha! Atsumu Miya, Alpha! Kiyoomi Sakusa

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Helping hand ( 🍘, 🍙 (Mafia! AU))

Summary: You were always so good for your alpha. There are some things that fall out of your control however, things that may put a wrench in your good behavior.

Ingredients: Alpha! Mob boss! Kenma Kozume

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem!)

↳ Spare some? ( 🥞, 🍘 , 🍮)

Summary: You simply ask for Daddy’s Cummies. How are these alphas reacting?

Ingredients: Alpha! Satori Tendo, Alpha! Toru Oikawa, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima, Alpha! Kenma Kozume, Alpha! Yu Nishinoya, Alpha Keiji Akaashi

Serving: Omega! Reader

↳ Let me help you ( 🍚, 🍪) (Now with Part 2!)

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Ingredients: Alpha! Toru Oikawa, Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi + Part 2 includes Mattsun and Makki.

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ All Mine (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 ) ( 🥞, 🍪, 🍮)

Summary: You alpha sees someone flirting with you, he’s not happy/ This time you see someone flirty with your alpha and your not happy.

Ingredients: Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi, Alpha! Issei Matsukawa, Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo, Alpha! Osamu Miya, Alpha! Atsumu Miya, Alpha! Suna Rintaro

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ After hours ( 🥞, 🍘)

Summary: Some spicy messages between you and your alpha~

Ingredients: Alpha! Atsumu Miya, Alpha! Osamu Miya, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima, Alpha! Kentaro Kyoutani, Alpha! Rintaro Suna, Alpha! Eita Semi

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Keeping you close ( 🍪, 🍘)

Summary: Your alpha catches some low-bit, pathetic excuse of an alpha trying to get with you and he’s determined to but a stop to it.

Ingredients: Alpha! Rintaro Suna

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN, until the smut)

↳ Lips like Sugar~ ( 🍪, 🍘,🍙(Sugar Daddy! AU))

Summary: Toru Oikawa had no qualms about paying a pretty little thing to hang off his arm, but he expects you to be at his beck and call for the price tag you come with. And if you aren’t? He’ll put you back into your place real quick.

Ingredients: Alpha! Toru Oikawa

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem! Reader)

↳ Back me up ( 🍪)

Summary: Pregnancy can bring out both the best, and worst, in any and all alphas, and yours is no exception. Life, however, is unpredictable in every sense and sometimes, the worst and best parts get melded into one– and make you fall in love with your alpha all over again.

Ingredients: Alpha! Kotaro Bokuto, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem! Reader)

↳Baby, it’s cold outside ( 🍪)

Summary: After waiting for your parents to come pick you up, only for them to never come, you can’t seem to get warm. Lucky, for you, your alpha is there to help you get warm!

Ingredients: Alpha! Takanobu Aone

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳Kiss it Better (🍪)

Summary: You love spending time with your alpha in the kitchen, unfortunately it’s a little bittersweet for him.

Ingredients: Alpha! Osamu Miya

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳Again ( 🍘,🍮 )

Summary: How much can you take before your alpha breaks you?

Ingredients: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem! Reader)

↳Feed Me ( 🍪,🍮 )

Summary: Some times, people do things because it’s what they think is best. You don’t tell your alpha about some weight gain you’ve noticed, and try taking care of it yourself because of this.

Ingredients: Alpha! Keiji Akaashi, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima, Alpha! Rintaro Suna

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳ Day and Night (🍘)

Summary: How do you and your gamer alpha spend heats and ruts?

Ingredients: Alpha! Kenma Kozume

Serving: Omega! Reader (Fem! Reader)

↳ Crash Course(🍪)

Summary: The relationship between Iwaizumi and Oikawa is always a confusing one. No one is quite sure what it is and where exactly you fall into it. Well, you guys do and that’s all that matters.

Ingredients: Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi, Platonic! Alpha! Toru Oikawa

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳✨Intimidating✨(🍪)

Summary: Alpha’s are scary creatures. Going up to them is scary, and honestly, you were never sure you would ever be able to look one in the eye. Unfortunately, your omega was dead set on one particular alpha– one who seemed so much more intimidating than any other alpha you had seen before.

Ingredients: Alpha! Issei Matsukawa, Alpha! Satori Tendou

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN)

↳✨Daddy cats✨ (🍪, 🍘)

Summary: What’s life like with not one but two alphas at your beck and call?

Ingredients: Alpha! Kenma Kozume and Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo (Poly)

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN until the smut, then it's fem! Reader)

↳✨Olympic level✨( 🍪)

Summary: Sometimes your air-headed alpha makes you question your sanity. Luckily, you have some back-up to get him back in line.

Ingredients: Alpha! Yu Nishinoya

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN!)

↳Time Bomb ( 🍚,🍮,🍙(Non! A/B/O) )

Summary: Anger is an ugly emotion and can bring out the worst in all of us. Mid-argument, it pushes your boyfriend into dangerous waters, threatening your very relationship. Is your relationship strong enough to survive?

Ingredients: Koushi Sugawara, Wakatoshi Ushijima

Serving: Reader(GN!)

↳Paparazzi ( 🍪)

Summary: Fangirls are nice, yes, however they tend to get in the way of simple things such as passing your classes. You won't take their harrassment laying down though.

Ingredients: Alpha! Toru Oikawa, Alpha! Yuji Terushima, Alpha! Atsumu Miya

Serving: Omega! Reader (GN!)

More to come!

1K notes · View notes

nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

An extra for our babies can be found here!

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years

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Try | D.M.

Summary: Arranged marriages don't always work.

Warnings: mentions of sex, cheating, alcohol, violence, pregnancy, murder/suicide (touched upon briefly in one sentence)

this is kinda a dark towards the end, reader is very self deprecating so only read if comfortable with all things mentioned xx

Word Count: 1.4k

#A/N: I HAVE AGED UP ALL CHARACTER FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC. (fun fact: half of my year group were professional drinkers by 13 and had lost their virginities by 15, UK schools are something else I tell you)

You don’t love him.

He doesn’t even try to.

You had known who Draco would be to you by the time you were old enough to form thoughts. It wasn’t something your parents had ever tried to hide, nor was it something the either of you particularly held opinions for. It was your duty as a pureblood witch; that much had been drilled into you the second you had come out of your mother’s womb, knowing Draco would’ve been through the same had been little solace.

You had spent the years up until your 18th birthday getting along with each other for your family’s sake, a civil understanding between the two of you, but neither of you fully acknowledging what the other meant to them. You had tried. Once. He had looked at you with murder in his eyes and you had never tried again.

The summer before 7th year however, you had shared a bed every night. Protection charms were cast so that you remained pure of course, but they weren’t ever even really needed; you had both been in the same bed, but the distance between you had never been greater. You would both climb into bed, you facing one way, him reading a book until his eyes got heavy and turned to face the opposite way of you. You both pretended as though the other did not exist, something that would become a habit in the years to come.

He was always gone. The first 6 years of Hogwarts you had seen him constantly; you shared the same group of friends after all. They all knew of the betrothal too, no one daring to bring it up infront of the two of you, but you knew they gossiped behind your back. These ‘friends’ of yours were simply pureblooded heirs who would do anything to tear you away from Draco so they could dig their claws into his family fortune. And they were welcome to, you never once stopped their advances on him; no that was his own doing.

For years you had thought that had meant he had respect for your arrangement, for you, but in 7th year you had started finding him with random girls in hallways, skirts bunched up at their waists as he mouthed at their necks. Both too indulged in pleasure to even notice you standing just a mere few metres away. It didn’t matter that they didn’t see you, your face didn’t betray your emotions, you were above that after all.

It hurt at first; not the jealousy kind of hurt; more of the my-arranged-fiancé-who-I-have-no-feelings-for-is-shagging-other-girls kind of hurt.

You didn’t love him, and he sure as hell didn’t love you. Perhaps you were just too naive to think a snake could have an ounce of loyalty in them. That would be the last time you would put faith in him; something you had found rather useful in preventing further unnecessary feelings.

You had spent the next day’s inside of your own head; debating on whether this would be your ticket out of the marriage, or simply be a thorn in your back. You had found him with 6 other girls over the course of a week, all being fucked into oblivion that they hadn’t even noticed you.

Draco had though.

He had seen you the last 3 times, perhaps he had seen you all along, only acknowledging your presence the last few occasions.

Eyes holding their gaze on you as he continued to rock his hips into the girl against him, a smirk on his face. He had wanted you to find him. He had wanted to hurt you. Your expression did not falter once, you held onto his gaze, waited until he was bored of trying to break you and broke eye contact himself.

You had wanted to retaliate; you even went as far as crawling into Theo’s bed after a Slytherin party that had ended with everyone being too drunk to think. But even when you were 7 shots of firewhiskey in, you couldn’t bring yourself to give yourself to someone you didn’t love. Thinking back on it now, you wondered if you even would’ve been able to, given the protective blood charm your father had placed on you to protect your worth.

You had been in hysterics, not over Draco, but upon the realisation of how powerless you were that you couldn’t even hurt someone back that didn’t so much as care about you. You were trapped, this would be how you would feel for the rest of your life and you couldn’t as much as rebel even when only betrothed. You knew that once you were officially married there would be no way out, but you still couldn’t do it. You couldn’t betray your bloodline, and its traditions that had been grounded into you from the moment you were born.

You were pathetic. Harry Potter defeated Voldemort as a baby, yet you at 18 couldn’t do so much as make your own life choices.

Theo Notts did what anyone else would’ve done and dragged your fiancé in to quell your sobs. In hindsight, dragging in Draco whilst his fiance was naked and sobbing in another guy’s bed probably wasn’t his greatest idea as Draco had punched him clean across the face, his pale skin turning an angry red.

A turning point was what you let yourself believe as he held you for the first time. You had spent more time alone that night then than you had ever done (awake anyways). For the first time in 17/18 years he had willingly stayed in your company for more than 2 seconds. He had let you sob into his neck until they turned into quiet hiccups and eventually soft snores. He had fallen asleep with you and woken you up with a cup of tea, a tense but somewhat comfortable silence between the two of you.

Naive. Stupid. Ignorant.

One moment of weakness could never have changed years’ worth of indifference, perhaps even hatred.

Nothing had changed. And why would it?

Sure he no longer pretended as though you didn’t exist (although the both of you pretended that night hadn’t) but he was still finding a different witch to fuck each night. You never saw them again, but you knew. Everyone did.

That had been 3 years ago.

Nothing had changed in that time.

Well; other than the wedding band on your left hand.

He would still see other women; you just hadn’t caught him. He would never bring them home and risk the wrath of his parents after all. He wouldn’t dare risk anything that could harm his reputation.

No, you just smelt their sickly-sweet perfume on him after he crawled back into your shared bed at ungodly hours.

You would dispose of their hairs left on his clothes before the house elves found out and reported it to his parents. You would make excuses as for why he was late to important gatherings and doctors’ appointments. You kept up the image of happy wife so that they wouldn’t know of your misery and label you both as a failure to the bloodlines you held the futures of.

You would always wake just as he climbed back into bed, he had as much consideration for his wife as he had for house elves.

It was the same every night. You would pretend to be asleep, wait for his tell-tale change in breathes before you turned to hover over him, knife in hand, unsure of who to kill; yourself, your precious husband or the both of you.

But every night you would place the knife back in your nightstand, turn over, and fall asleep again; and let the day repeat itself.

You had tried to love him. But Draco Malfoy was impossible to love.

That was how it had been for the first 3 years of marriage.

It had changed just a few weeks ago.

Now, he would still come back, just not as late as before, but still covered in perfume that would make you instantly nauseous. You would still feign sleep but this time, he would press a hand to your stomach before turning over and falling asleep. You still had the knife in your bedside drawer, you just hadn’t reached for it again.

Draco Malfoy was still impossible to love, but the child inside of you wasn’t.

After thoughts/headcanon continuation

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldensatine @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @gwlvr @m3ssytrash @aubreyanna02 @akaaaaashiiii @carrobrumbrum @dracoswift @bitchybeatle @samnblack @dumspirospero-1 @dracomalfoyswifeee @fuckingdraco @myshaahmad77 @you-sunshine @little_me204 @lipstickandloveletters @pillowjj @meipotter

#Draco x reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco x reader angst #draco malfoy #harry potter #draco x y/n #tw alcohol #tw cheating #tw pregancy #tw violence #tw knife #tw pregnancy #tw sex #tw mention of suicide

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Note

Prompt- Nyx tickles Rhys in front of all the hewn city members. (Rhys is very ticklish)

A Visit to Hewn City

Fluff//1565 words

“You are not taking our child to Hewn City. Absolutely not.” Feyre’s arms were crossed and she had an obstinate look in her eyes.

Rhys just smirked. “Fine. You can take him with you to your art classes.”

Feyre winced, likely remembering the last time that had happened. Nyx had gotten into a bucket of paint, smeared his hands all over the wall in a desperate attempt to get it off, then started crying. “I’ll stay home today.”

“I thought you were short-staffed.” Rhys knew exactly how this conversation would end from the sigh that escaped his mate’s lips.

“Can’t you go to Hewn City another day?” Feyre asked in a last-ditch attempt to keep her son away from there.

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “We’ve both already rescheduled the last few dates we were meant to go. Keir was annoyed enough as it is to hear that only one of us could come today.”

“We could get a babysitter—”

“Mor is off being our emissary. Cassian and Nesta are in the mountains. Azriel’s on a mission. All of our other friends are busy in some way. Do you trust our son with a stranger?”

Feyre squeezed her eyes shut. “I know you won’t let anything happen to him, I just don’t want Nyx in that environment.”

Rhys gaze softened. “I know, darling. I understand. If you really don’t want me to—”

“No,” Feyre cut him off. “I trust you.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and tried for a smile. “Just think of the look on Keir’s face when you show up with a baby. He only found out about Nyx during out last visit, yes?”

Rhys’ lips twitched. “Indeed. I imagine he’ll be rather surprised. And hopefully annoyed too. My dear uncle deserves a bit on trouble every now and then, don’t you think?”

Feyre grinned. “Absolutely. I need to go now.”

Rhys gave Feyre a peck on the cheek. “Have fun.”

Feyre returned the sentiment and winnowed away.

Rhys gathered Nyx in his arms, ready to head off to his meeting. And really, he was the most powerful high lord Prythian had ever seen. Only Feyre’s power rivaled his own. How hard would it be to keep a baby under control for a few hours?

—

As predicted, the look on Keir’s face was absolutely priceless. Rhys winnowed nearby, then strutted into the throne room with a baby in his arms. Of course a few residents of Hewn City dropped their goblets at the sight.

Keir, though… he looked absolutely enraged. The first glimpse of his distantly related grand-nephew did not seem to meet his standards.

Rhys just grinned at him and kept walking. Passing occupants of the Court of Nightmares, who were all scrambling to bow, seemed to please Nyx. He was reaching out of Rhys’ arms at everyone they walked by, excited to meet new people.

Rhys made it to the two thrones and took a seat in his own. Nyx settled on his lap, cooing.

“You brought the newborn,” Keir commented. His voice was strained.

Rhys just smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. Your High Lady is busy today. Subjects, may I present my son, Nyx.”

The whole room seemed to collectively take a breath, processing the situation. They clearly hadn’t been expecting a baby to appear in their domain.

Ignoring the silence, Rhys turned to Keir once more. “Any important updates?”

Keir was still frowning at Nyx. “Everything has been as it usually is. We only need to discuss how to calm down some residents who have gotten a bit worked up about some issue or other.”

Rhys, accustomed to the vague references to his people, wasn’t bothered by the lack of willingness to share. He was, however, bothered by the way Keir scowled at Nyx throughout this little speech. Even now, his eyes were on the baby who was currently pulling at Rhys’ hand.

“Do you have an issue with the presence of my child, Keir?” Rhys’ voice was icy.

Keir’s eyes snapped to Rhys. “He has wings.”

Trying to keep from throttling the male in front of his son, Rhys kept his tone even. He noticed the whole room tense at his words. “Does that matter?”

Keir frowned. “Being commanded by an Illyrian and his bastard Illyrian friends was bad enough. Now the child?”

Rhys wanted to use his power on the man. He’d done it before. Feyre had as well. But with Nyx there… absolutely not.

Instead, Rhys smiled. “I’m glad you’re pleased with him. Now go fetch some wine for me.”

Keir tensed, debating whether to argue, as he’d done many previous times. But something hard in Rhys’ eyes had the male scampering away.

Nyx seemed totally oblivious to the encounter. He gave his small wings a flap and scooted on Rhys’ lap. A string of babbled baby language left his mouth.

Rhys smiled fondly at the boy. “Hello, son.”

The entirety of Hewn City was watching their high lord coo at his baby, but Rhys paid them no mind. He wasn’t going to be cold and ruthless in front of Nyx.

Keir reappeared with the wine and Rhys took the goblet, not bothering to thank him. Then he dismissed Keir with a wave of the hand and went back to playing with his son.

—

Rhys wasn’t meant to be at Hewn City for long. After a couple of hours, Rhys had the small issue Keir had mentioned sorted out. He’d also entertained the court for as long as his lordly duties required.

Ready to leave, Rhys tried to scoop up Nyx, who had crawled over on Feyre’s empty throne. The baby managed to get Rhys back on his own seat and clung to his tunic, babbling.

“Now, Nyx, it’s time to leave,” Rhys said in a gentle voice, much of the court still watching curiously. They certainly had a very long attention span.

Nyx remained uncooperative. He tried to climb up Rhys’ shirt. In the process, his little baby fingers dug into Rhys’ side.

Rhys let out a startled laugh.

Pleased with the reaction, Nyx repeated the movement.

Prepared and trying to hold it in, Rhys lasted a few seconds before laughing once more. The entire court was staring at them now, entirely unsure of how to react to seeing their high lord being tickled. Keir was glaring with disapproval from the sidelines.

Nyx didn’t let up, surprisingly strong for a baby. Rhys had a bit of a laughing fit while trying—and failing—to corral his son.

Not sure if he’d be able to pick up the rascal and make it out the door, Rhys just smiled at the Court of Nightmares and said, “Your High Lady and I will visit next month. Be on your best behavior.” Then he winnowed away, hoping he didn’t sound as embarrassed as he was feeling.

Gods, Rhys’ face felt warm. He was blushing. Maybe they’d blame it on the wine.

Having appeared in his home, Rhys straightened and stepped toward the bedroom door, hoping to make inside before Feyre caught him. Nyx, still unused to winnowing, clapped his hands excitedly at the change in scenery.

“What did you do?”

Rhys slowly turned. “Do?”

Feyre had her arms crossed. She didn’t look particularly angry; she only seemed curious as to why her unflappable mate was blushing and trying to sneak into their bedroom.

“Did he get into trouble?”

“He was on his best behavior, actually. You shouldn’t be so doubtful toward him, darling. It hurts his feelings.”

Feeling entirely unhurt, Nyx hiccuped and reached for his mother. Feyre lifted him out of Rhys’ arms, rolling his eyes at the pathetic attempt at a deflection.

“What did you do then?”

Rhys winced. “Why do you think anything happened at all?”

Feyre impatiently knocked at her mate’s mental shields, not trusting a word that came out of his mouth. Reluctantly, Rhys lowered them, allowing Feyre full access to his mind.

After witnessing the day’s events, Feyre burst out laughing. “Oh, gods.”

Rhys pouted. “Stop that.”

“Being tickled by a baby in the middle of the Court of Nightmares. How will you ever look them in the eye again?” Feyre managed between laughs.

Rhys sighed. “I won’t. You’re on permanent Hewn City duty.”

Feyre smiled. “Right. Gods, I need to go tell Mor.”

Rhys’ eyes widened. “You need to do no such thing!”

“And Cassian. He’ll never let you live it down.” Feyre was fighting a smile.

Rhys crossed his arms. “Think of the child. What would poor Nyx think of his mother bullying his father so terribly?”

Feyre grinned. “He seems rather pleased with himself, actually.” Indeed, Nyx was stretching his lips, smiling toothlessly, tugging on Feyre’s sleeve.

Rhys sighed. “Oh, well. I think I’ve about given up on dignity at this point.”

Feyre smiled fondly at her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Rhys guided his wife to the bedroom so that she could set down Nyx and let him play.

Upon asking how her day was, Rhys discovered she’d had a great time with her students, teaching some newbies how to mix the colors.

Despite the lingering embarrassment, Rhys was no longer upset about what had occurred in Hewn City. After all, a little bit of sheepishness was definitely worth seeing the look on Keir’s face. Maybe he’d bring Nyx with them again next time.

———

Tag List:

@feysand-loml

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

#feysand #baby nyx #acotar #a visit to hewn city #my writing

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 3 years

Text

Dylan O’Brien - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Here’s every pieces I wrote about Dylan O’Brien, to read for his characters, please refer to the main masterlist!

NSFW = 18+ ;)

DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WRITING. NEVER. NOT TODAY. NOT TOMORROW. NEVER.

Always Follow You Dreams (Chloe x Dylan)

Summary: People always say to follow your dream. That’s what I did. But I never thought I would meet him. Actually I still can’t believe it.

Some Dylan and Soup / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5(Mal x Dylan)

Summary: You’re sick, and it happens that the two things you want most are now in your apartment. Dylan, your best friend, and soup.

Gladly Mistaken / Part 2

Summary: Loving Halloween is one thing. Attending a party is another. Being called slut by your boyfriend is painful. Drinking is a normal reaction. But kissing the wrong person in costume? It can either be pathetic or having a surprising ending.

Home (Baseball au) (NSFW)

Summary: Being the fiancé of a talented Mets player has many advantages. At one particular match, Dylan is very nervous. So, to reassure him, you promise the night of his life if he wins…

Challenge Accepted

Summary: Something happened. You best friend now seems to hate you but you don’t know why. To get her back, you have to win a baseball match against her and her team. The only problem? You don’t have a team. Or skills. You don’t even know where to begin. Until an angel named Dylan O’Brien comes to your rescue.

The Pillow

Summary: When Dylan loses his pillow at the airport because of too many crazy fans, you run with it like your life is on the line (it is) when these fangirls start to run after you to keep the precious pillow for themselves. And now, you have to bring the pillow back to safety into its owner arms before the night, with crazy fangirls running after you and no help to find the actor.

Dirty Little Fantasies (NSFW)

Summary: I only wanted him to notice me. That’s why I seduced the barmaid on purpose in front of him. But I was far from knowing the truth. Dylan knew. He knew about all my… dirty fantasies. As I discover a new side of my boyfriend, all the pieces of the puzzle form one. He planned to give me the night of my life.

Glitter and Gold

Summary: The day of your first year anniversary should have been perfect. But an incident regarding your weight at the amusement park changes the whole day. (Plus size!Reader)

Blind Date

Summary: You really don’t want to go. But in the end, why not? If it sucks, you can still enjoy the movie. It’s just a simple blind date. But… is it?

Childhood Love

Summary: Having feelings for the brother of your childhood/best friend is already complicated. Add to the mix that the brother is a known, beautiful, talented actor. And that you’re not the skinniest, prettiest or popular person around. Sounds impossible, am I right? Or… maybe… (Plus size!Reader)

Behave (NSFW)

Summary: You promised you would behave when Dylan invited you to come with him to his after party. But you can’t help it, teasing him is always so fun… Until the punishment arrives. And bad girls don’t get to cum.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien fanfiction smut #dylan o'brien x you #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x reader fanfiction #dylan o'brien x plus size!reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien series #fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

Note

I just got into the fandom and I love it so much. However, there are parts where I just cringe. I’m going to be completely honest when I say I can’t see SS being a thing, a healthy one at that. A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him. I just... find it utterly bullshit. Hell, even I do ship narusasu, I tried to be open minded and not fall too far off canon or the characters. I don’t understand how Sasuke had those feelings for her when all he did was shown the opposite and it felt genuine. He seem always annoyed and pushes her away. She kept forcing her feelings on him when he makes it clear that he’s not interested. I don’t hate the ship because it’s not my ship but because it’s extremely toxic. It feels one-sided (Sakura’s side) more than anything and it’s makes it hard to believe he had those feelings for her. I mean, on the second episode of season five, she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive. She’s just like every other fangirl expect she’s on his team. I’m trying my best not to hate her but Damn she’s really pushing it. Anything that annoyed me was that she made it seem like they were dating, again making it about herself and her feelings. She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.” I just can’t with this ship. I’m still wondering why the hell is it even a thing? Also find it beyond pitiful how she stayed with Sasuke in Boruto when he left for 12-13 years?! No note. No checking up. Nothing. Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP. If that’s what true love looks like (good thing it’s not), then I’d die single. I can’t be the only one who thinks this ship is just as bad as Harley Quinn x Joker.

First off, Thanks for this lovely ask @larrycherry04 ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I've always wanted to write about this and your ask is the perfect timing.

Disclaimer: SS shippers, Sakura fans!!! Don’t read this post!!

Me being an SNS shipper, I am just going to write this from a non-SNS perspective. Meaning, I am going to consider Naruto and Sasuke are just friends or rivals.

Bear with my lengthy answer.

Where do I even begin?

A rumor said that Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

I think this rumor is from a light novel called Akatsuki Hiden or whatever shit. But for me, it looks like a pathetic attempt to convince those horny women shippers who would pay any money to read a romance which mirrors their own love life where they desire an ‘unreachable & handsome’ man who has this ‘cool & overbearing’ aura and carries this ‘bad boy badass’ vibe. They would do anything to get the attention from this boy. Until this point is where the reality ends.

What they really wants to happen and fantasize is somehow that handsome man, one day, will look only them and recognize their love and becomes a ‘soft’ guy who would bring the heavens for them and treats her like a princess. That fantasy led them to buy these novels and believe everything while completely disregarding the canon material. And those novels are aimed at these type of women.

You must have been wondering now, ‘I have seen these type of shit somewhere’!!!!!

That’s right.

50 Shades of Grey, Twilight, Beauty and the Beast, 100′s of K-Drama, C-Drama follow this shit romance trope and it’s regrettably fucking popular.

In other words, Don’t believe anything apart from the canonic resources.

Let’s dissect the canon materials about SS.

TEAM 7

This is how it all started

Does anyone see anything positive here????

Well, I am not.

Sakura wanted to impress Sasuke. Since, Naruto always picks fight with Sasuke, she badmouthed Naruto in the hopes that Sasuke will recognize some common ground with her which may develop into a friendship. But she shot her own foot.

[Regardless, I hated her here and she never redeemed herself, for her being completely insensitive & oblivious towards Sasuke’s life, the boy she loves]

Technically, Sasuke should have said ‘You’re Annoying’ towards Naruto for kissing him before the class and tying him up later. Here, Sakura is simply badmouthing another guy. He, somehow, find this very annoying than anything Naruto did earlier.

Sasuke always had feelings for Sakura but he didn’t know how to show them because hatred blinded him.

Am definitely not seeing any feelings here.

ZABUZA ARC

Alright, much later, somehow Sasuke started to integrate into team 7 and started to see them as a Family. No denial here. He started to care about everyone in his team at some point. Which was evident from the way he thought to himself, ‘That was Sakura’s voice... What is Kakashi doing?’

But does it means he hopelessly fell in love with her??? Nope.

It’s just a team camaraderie where he was worried about his teammate. If he has special feelings towards her, he should have said ‘I must go save Sakura’ or something along the line.

But, later in that episode, he went on to die for Naruto and even at his dying moments he didn’t think about Sakura or Team 7. It was all about someone else.

Even seconds before falling into Naruto’s arms, Sasuke was smiling with no regrets.

It was funny very later that after he got up from his temporary death, rather than consoling her like ‘Sakura, Don’t cry. Am alright’ or anything, he was asking ‘Where’s Naruto?’. LOL.

Even much later, when Sakura was asking him about a date, he bluntly said ‘I refuse’.

So, you’re telling me, throughout this arc, a boy blinded with hatred can able to pout, play childish games, train and die for a boy but when it comes to Sakura he can’t show his feelings???

Sorry, I don’t see romance here. Not in this arc.

Whether you agree or not, every parent has their favorite child, every child has their favorite parent. Even within your family, you always have a special person.

For Sasuke, Itachi was that person in his real family. Sakura was not that person in his Team 7 family. It was Naruto.

CHUNIN EXAMS ARC

This arc is where those SS shippers celebrates a lot and I know why. Remember earlier I talked about that shitty 50 Shades of Grey romantic trope??? The following scene vaguely falls under that pattern.

A guy loses his control because of a cursed seal and beats up the guys who hurt one of his teammates which happens to be a girl and calms down after seeing the girl.

That Infamous back hug.

I understand why SS people lose their mind with that scene. And I don’t blame them. I am going to throw their own proof at them.

So, this First databook, tells us that he finally sees both Naruto and Sakura as comrades and his heart softens from the path of revenge, a little bit.

Definitely, Sakura’s tears or love towards him stopped his rampage. But nothing says about whether Sasuke loves her back.

Much later, Sasuke also stops his cursed seal on his own after thinking about worried Sakura and a screaming Naruto (Who don’t know about this seal thingy at that time).

Well, whatever. That databook has another funny fact, that too in the same page.

LOL. Weird!!!! This accidental kiss unravels Sasuke’s heart ❤️❤️???? 🤣🤣🤣

So, influencing Sasuke’s heart can be attributed to both his teammates,according to this databook. Atleast upto this arc. There are no special feelings for Sakura alone, guys.

Proof?

If Sasuke really considers her in a romantic light (this is after that back hug), he doesn’t have to do this at all. Believe me, Love is all about subconsciously or purposefully enjoying or feeling little touches. Those touches can be through eyes, memories or physical. Sakura is delighted with his touch because she loves him but Sasuke just see her as a comrade and keeping his distance but this time very politely.

If Kishi really likes these couple, he doesn’t have to make this scene at all. It’s not just this one instance, he rejected her twice very bluntly before this saying ‘Don’t cling to me!!!’, ‘Sakura, you’re heavy!!!’.

If you say her back hug is a token of romance, then I can say ‘this’ kiss is also a token of romance. You can’t ignore one while keeping the other.

Anyways, at the end of the arc, Orochimaru is the best judge to identify who can change Sasuke’s heart. And that person is not Sakura.

DEPARTURE

she confessed and poured out her heart and he blew it off. I cringed hard and was beyond disappointed because she’s making it about herself. That’s literally how I feel about their damn “relationship”. She made it about her and her only. When he’s hurting, it’s about her. It’s so annoying and it makes me see how self-centered Sakura. When she said she understood Sasuke, I wanted to scream (I nearly did but my family is sleeping and I don’t need a lecture.) She doesn’t know Jackshit about Sasuke besides he’s the only survivor of his decease clan, he’s a loner who cares only about himself, and he’s attractive.

You know what, Larry??? You are 1000% right.

But, atleast, I thought she was genuine in the first part of the proposal, like saying ‘Revenge is not good’.....bla bla.. Because, Revenge will never satisfy a person completely and I agree. Then she took a 180 degree by saying ‘Take me with you, Sasuke-Kun. I’ll make you happy’. This is where I lost it entirely. ‘Alright Bitch, So you really don’t care about his revenge or health. As long as you have the chance to get inside his pants, you are okay with it. So you are okay with Sasuke going to Orochimaru as long as you are with him..... Fucking Shit!!!!’ This is not okay at all.

How did Sasuke respond?

“Why should I have to tell you anything”

“I’m telling you to keep your nose out of my business”

“Stop bothering me over everything I do”

Ummm..... where I come from, this screams ‘Irritation’ to me. Added to it, throughout the whole conversation he never saw her face. There was evidently no pain or anything from his face. On top the cake, here comes the cherry

“You really are...annoying”

This is where he saw her face throughout that painful confession before knocking her out. Umm... When you love someone or atleast feel for someone, you will look in their eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave. Or atleast show some pain??? There’s visibly nothing from Sasuke’s face.

Alright, I know what SS wankers will pull out here. That Databook 2 with some vague words. I am going to throw this at them.

Again, like I acknowledged before, he considers her as a comrade and part of a family. So, her existence also eased his loneliness. But you have to look at the word choice here. “The one that filled his lonely existence was Sakura”. It’s not the ‘Only’ person. Before he left he said ‘Thanks’. Meaning, Thanks for all these days. That’s all between us.

This piece was about the Team 7 picture. So he acknowledges, he was not alone during his genin days because of his companions and Kakashi (so it’s not just Sakura to ease his loneliness). Whatever he said to Sakura was real.

So can we safely confirm “You’re annoying” is real????

But what’s really interesting is the way Sasuke projects himself before Naruto. I am going to refrain myself from attaching all those rollercoaster of emotions flowed throughout the fight in VoTE 1. Otherwise, it will become an SNS post.

However, this particular scene caught my attention.

Ummm.... Initially Sasuke walks without looking at Naruto. Then he looks back and answers him.

Naruto was pretty much asking the same question as Sakura. “Why does it come to this?”

But Sasuke pauses and surprised for a moment and asks him pretty much “Why do you care about me?”

Why couldn’t Sasuke do the same with Sakura???? Kishi can pretty much make a panel or two rather than making some insulting panels.

Anyways, If they throw the databook, then I can also throw the same.

Alright, can someone explain the highlighted sentence for me???? Because I want to confirm whether I have a blurry vision.

Here, Sasuke is trying to punctuate Naruto as a different person from the rest of his companions. ‘his companions as well as that with Naruto’, I mean, Come on!!!! Naruto is also one of your companions along with Sakura. Why differentiate????

‘The village, companions, Naruto,....’ . Again....He is differentiating his home (village), companions (his friends), and Naruto. So who is Naruto for him? What is the need to make exception for Naruto? It’s very clear he is placing Naruto at a high pedestal for some unknown reasons.

Before this Databook dissection, remember I said something about saying Goodbye, ‘ When you love someone or at least feel for someone, you will look into that person’s eyes and speak some farewell words before you leave‘

Sasuke is doing exactly that here in this scene without saying anything.

Am sorry SS shippers, you can scream all you want about Sasuke knocked her out and left her on the bench. But there was no emotional distraught when he left her. Sasuke seemingly spent a longer time staring at Naruto than looking at Sakura when she confessed.

OROCHIMARU HIDEOUT

Well, there is nothing I can say about here for SS. He pretty much saw her and said, “Sakura, huh?”.. And that’s all. He didn’t give two shits about her.

His attention was completely on someone else.

UNDER THE BRIDGE

She sent Naruto to get Sasuke for her benefits, so she can keep him. Again, disregarding Sasuke’s feelings and what he wanted. Naruto should’ve said “I’ll bring him back because HE wants too, to keep HIM safe, not for you.”

Naruto pretty much said the same thing in this arc, Larry. Naruto, in part 1, was happy for Sakura feeling the same about Sasuke as him, that is ‘To bring him back’. And also sad that his crush really loves someone else. But after Sakura gave up on Sasuke and faking her confession, Naruto decided, ‘Alright, I want to save him personally. I don’t care about our promise anymore”.

This is where, SS ship goes into a crazy ride and it’s not a positive one.

Sasuke was on a rampage. He lost the ability to differentiate between his friends and foes. He stabbed Karin. And when he find her alive, he was about to Chidori her.

And then comes the pink princess, full of lies and deceit. And Sasuke being impatient and disgusted with her lies, he does this

Well, in part 1, she had a degree of power to change his heart. But not here. He, instead, got riled up more and even tried to kill her without a warning and that too by not looking at her face. Pathetic!!!!

This scene screams ‘Trust issues’ from both sides.

Did it stop here???

Fucking Shit!!!!!! Is there any people who still ship this nonsense?. If you are a Sakura fan, you should hate her for the lack of trust and backstabbing the person she loves,

If you are a Sasuke fan, errrrmmm.....I have nothing to say. You know what to do.

There is nothing positive here, that can make me ship them. He is killing her like a Mosquito.

If you truly loved someone in the past, even in your darkest moments, you will be honest and you cannot fake before that person.

Proof??

Here, Sasuke had a clear resolve to kill his brother, Itachi. He lived for this moment for about 8 years and immersed himself in Darkness for 3 years with Orochimaru. He could have run away, dodge or look away from Itachi. But Sasuke simply couldn’t!!! You know why?? Sasuke loved Itachi once more than anything in this world. At this moment, he is letting all those defense loose and embracing the moment and see what Itachi was about to do. Because somewhere in his heart he trusts Itachi.

But killing Sakura doesn’t make Sasuke feel anything. She is just another victim like Danzo or Karin or all those Samurais or a fucking mosquito!!!!

So you are telling me that Sasuke had feelings for her but kept it hidden all along and still tried to kill her like a pest???

Give me a fucking break!!!!

And you all know, who changed Sasuke’s heart here in this scene. It was not Sakura. There’s absolutely no reason for Sasuke to listen to that person and what’s more, Sasuke even made a promise (despite being in darkness, he had it in his heart to listen to that person) to destroy Konoha only after killing that person ..

WAR ARC

Well, this is the arc where Sakura behaves like a rabid dog on heat waiting for Sasuke and shamelessly trying to wag her tails. But Sasuke didn’t give two shits about her, not once or twice but multiple times.

MOMENT 1

An explosion was about to kill the whole shinobi alliance and this dude wants to save Jugo, his companion and Naruto, the person who will challenge his Revolution, his rival and the one whom he wants to kill. Why only Naruto??? Why not Naruto and Sakura???

Pink cherry Queen doesn’t even crossed Sasuke’s mind. Because he already threw her away in part 1.

MOMENT 2

Alright Bitch!!! The entire shinobi alliance was dying on the other side of the battlefield. And this asshole is doing a clownshow before Madara just to get inside Sasuke’s pants????

I mean, Come On!!!!

Well, if Sasuke truly likes her, he should be the one to have catched her or atleast should have asked her, ‘are you alright??’

I am sorry, where are the romantic feelings???

MOMENT 3

ROFLLLL🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

For the first time, Kishimoto is trolling those Sakutards through Sasuke’s words, what we, readers were right about all along. He is calling her useless here. And still these fake feminazis trying to ship her with him???

Don’t you guys have any self respect??? If so, this should be the moment to jump out of this trash ship.

MOMENT 4

Geez!!! You are still on this ship?????

He clearly doesn’t want to save her at all. The hawk can clearly lift 3 people. Sasuke is not even making an effort here.

And you are still yapping that he is blinded by darkness???

MOMENT 5

This is the moment SS calls it as ‘eyesmex’... While in reality, he was just looking at her and silently thanking her for helping him out. Do you know what is a real ‘eyesmex’??? I will attach it at the end.

If you guys pull this as true love, then he should have stayed in the same love till the end. But Sasuke has other ideas.

This is the one of the funniest thing in this arc. LOLLLLL

Instead of being relieved that Sakura was saved, Sasuke was wondering about Kakashi’s Susanoo.....and Sharingan.

Do people still think he cares about her????

MOMENT 6

Am cackling here, while dissecting the sorry state of this ship guys 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!! If something good happens to me because of SS , it’s just the way you guys are making me laugh by making a clown out of yourself!!!!

Do you guys know something? There was a man named Itachi. Before massacring his clan, the very first person he killed was his ‘supposed’ Girlfriend, named Izumi. I wouldn’t say Itachi loved her like a lover boy. It was just one sided on her part. He just talks to her when he finds a spare time and considers her a good friend.

Do you know how he killed her?

By putting her in a ‘Tsukuyomi’. And what kind of Tsukuyomi, you ask?

Can you see how he fulfilled her dreams gracefully before he was going to kill her???

Why didn’t Sasuke do this???? Why particularly select a murdering genjutsu????

MOMENT 7

He said it, finally.

He don’t love her at all. There was no hidden feelings. He admitted from his own mouth.

One day later, after the final VoTE battle ends.... After exchanging some intense feelings and even crying tears of happiness with Naruto....

Sasuke tells Sakura, ‘Sorry’....

Ummm.... That’s all???

All those negative shits happened before cannot be solved by just simply saying ‘Sorry’ and ‘Thank you’. If someone has an ounce of self-respect, they should know this is not OKAY at all...🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️🙅🏻‍♀️

Am Sorry, but Sasuke was just being politely blunt, kind of insincere towards Sakura and turned his attention somewhere else in a matter of minutes. He was not even bothered by Sakura’s tears here. Instead staring at someone on his left. Remember I talked about touching the person physically and visually?

Sasuke is subconsciously or purposefully touching someone on his left through his eyes. Definitely it’s not Sakura. You know who it is. Remember SStards’ infamous ‘eyesmex’... I seriously believe this is a perfect example of ‘eyesmex’.

All these intense looks and feeling pain still doesn’t serve Sakura, even after pulled out of darkness. If there is a moment, where SS wants to shine, then this is where it should be. He should have told her, how he missed her all along, how he felt about hurting her, should have wiped her tears and some corny shit. But instead, Sasuke went for a long ass monologue for his friend and talking about sharing his pain.

What about your kween’s pain????

You don’t have to ship SNS. But you should know where Sasuke’s priorities are.

It’s not Sakura.

Sasuke said ‘Sorry’ to Karin too. ‘Thank you’ to Kakashi as well.

And what’s even more pathetic is, still Sakura wants to get inside Sasuke’s pants by accompanying him. Bitch, you can help your village, console your best friend Ino who lost her father, try to surpass Tsunade, improve your skills or whatever... Why bother him???

So, if you really think ‘Thank you’ as a token of love, then I can’t help it but term Sakura as a rabid dog who waits for her master to come home and throw some bones whenever he finds time. Your standards for a romantic love is piss poor and you will suffer just like Sakura in Boruto with just emptiness. All Sasuke did was poke her forehead just like Itachi which symbolizes keeping someone at a distance. He also said the same words to her just like Itachi said to him many times ‘Mata kondo da’ meaning ‘Maybe next time’. And we all knew that next time never came for Sasuke.

Now all we see is a Sasuke as an absentee father in Boruto for which I don’t blame him. He was never a marriage material in the first place. Sakura and the Manga Editors forced him and she is paying for it.

Hell, Sarada doesn’t know how her own father looks like or the truth of her mother. Both of them were miserable and I find it absolutely ridiculous when SS shippers still say “they’re in love” or they’re OTP.

All I want to say to SS shippers is, Your Ship Has Sailed Already. You cannot expect Sasuke to go lovey dovey towards Sakura with a 12 year old daughter around and for fuck’s sake, this is not a romance manga, it’s a battle manga. So stop dreaming about this kind of non-existential romance and pull yourself altogether.

#naruto analysis #ask #sasunaru #sasunarusasu #anti sakura #anti sasusaku

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rhenuvee · 4 years

Text

The Cute Guy (Fred Weasley x reader)

Request: Could you do a cute after the war Fred Weasley imagine where the reader is applying to work at the Weasleys’ wizard wheezes. And slowly Fred falls in love with her.

*I realized I’m an idiot for not doing this sooner so tell me if you’d like to be tagged in my future fics. I write for 3 fandoms so please specify which one!*

Announcement: In case you did not see what I put in the request guidelines, school is starting September 14th for me. You can still send in requests, but I will be a lot slower with requests.

—————————————

Fred remembered the day he hired you to work for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It was a couple of weeks after he and George decided to reopen the shop. He saw how invested you seemed in the products and how your happy-go-lucky personality would bring a pleasant type of energy to customers. That would’ve been his genuine answer.

But now with his head in a daydream as you talked with a customer, he wasn’t sure that was the only thing that made him hire you. He saw how your bright smile lit up the room and how contagious your laugh was. He saw how pretty you looked even in just a uniform you wore to work everyday.

The shop was doing pretty well today, no complaints or accidents. However Fred could feel something not right at the corner of his eye.

He turned to see his twin in a very exaggerated manner, resting his chin in his hands propped up on his elbows. Fred deadpanned knowing George was trying to copy him, obviously in a very dramatic way.

“Stop doing that you prat, you’re scaring the people.” said Fred pushing George. He scoffed in return of his twin’s pathetic insult.

“Me? Look at yourself.” said George pointing at Fred. The older twin grumbled, he was seriously conflicted. Each day he hid it, it seemed like his feelings for you grew more.

“Why don’t you just ask them out?” asked George coolly as if it was the easiest thing in the whole world. Fred rubbed his temple in frustration.

“Yeah, and why don’t I step on a nail while I’m at it?”

“Good idea, tell me when you do so I can take a photograph.” Fred was about to get mad at his twin’s ignorance, but laughed dryly at his response with him instead.

“Look mate, if you don’t make your move, someone else will. You’re going to be all miserable and gloomy that your bird was taken. And I won’t be in the mood to deal with you.” explained George. Fred was annoyed at his brother for making fun of him, but also because he was right. Merlin, what was he going to do.

Meanwhile, you were at the front of the shop fixing up the love potions display and Ginny had just walked in. You became friends with her after being introduced when you were hired.

“Hey (y/n)!” her cheerful voice rang in the store.

“Oh hi Ginny.” you said smiling and looking up from the stand.

“Want to grab lunch with me at that restaurant nearby?” she said grabbing your hand already leading you out of the shop. You partially stayed glued in place.

“Um, maybe I should ask Fred and George before going...” you said in their direction. It was kind of weird saying their names from your mouth. For the first week you called them Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, but then you realized how old that must’ve made them feel after they told you about it. They were your bosses, you thought you had to address them formally!

“Who cares about them- she can go right?” asked Ginny quickly turning to her older twin brothers. Both turned their heads in sync and suddenly you felt warm knowing their gaze was on you.

“Of course love, we told you last time already.” said Fred almost out of impulse. You were busy blushing at the term of endearment to notice Ginny and George smirking and looking at Fred.

“Okay, let’s go then.” said Ginny smiling. You waved to the twins before heading out to lunch with Ginny. George did nothing but grin and click his tongue. Fred’s expression was nothing but confusion, however George knew what he was implying about the nickname he called you.

—————————————

“So tell me, what’s new in your life?” asked Ginny then taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“I’m a very boring person Ginny, you know that.” you said sighing and sipping your drink. It seemed like a spark was lit in Ginny as you could feel like she jumped in her seat a little.

“What about that cute guy you always talk about?” she teased. You facepalmed. Ever since that one time you went out with her and drank a little too much firewhiskey, you blurted out a bunch of randomness, and the cute guy was one of them. You have now learned to try and handle your liquor better.

“Oh god... you’re not still on about that are you?” you asked half serious and half pretending to be nonchalant so she could move on.

“I am.” she replied bluntly. You rolled your eyes.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Unfortunately, the cute guy was none other than one of your bosses- Fred Weasley. Thank Merlin you didn’t say his name directly that night. But even so, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

You applied to work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes because you genuinely loved their shop and admired how they brought smiles to people’s faces, even in dark times. And you knew the owners were the Weasley twins- but you did not know that getting a closer look at Fred would cause your knees to become jelly, or your eyes to look anywhere but his chocolate brown ones. And thus, it lead to him secretly being called ‘the cute guy’ by none other than your drunk self.

You snuck a look back at the shop which you could see from the restaurant window and sighed. Would a relationship with your boss be weird? Of course it would! I mean, you were the same age, yes- but why would he go for an employee? With looks as good as his and his charming personality he probably had lots of girls lining up for him.

“Oh my god...” said Ginny, which snapped you back from staring too long at the shop.

“Do you like my brother?” she asked almost frantically. Uh oh, she was onto you. You had to think of a a witty response to divert her from this conversation.

“You have... a lot of brothers Ginny.” you said trying to sound as normal as possible.

“I’m talking about Fred!” she said. She was close to stuttering out the phrase since she was so excited. You flushed red knowing she was right.

“Se he’s the cute guy! Oh this is great!” she clapped cheerfully.

“Don’t put words into my mouth.” you said turning your head away from her. In this moment you felt regret for the firewhiskey in the first place.

“Oh don’t be like that (y/n), besides he fancies you.” she said with a sly smirk.

“My own boss? Fancies me? You really learned from their pranking don’t you?” you asked putting emphasis. Fred fancying you was something you only thought about. She rolled her eyes again.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the way he looks at you.” she said. You did not. Thinking that Fred looked at you like you were special would’ve been a dream come true. You kept your mouth shut this time, you wanted to hear more.

“Ever since he’s hired you, he’s been giving you goo goo eyes, like in that one muggle movie where those ladies fangirl over that arrogant villain guy.” she explains. You were confused, and you needed to get out of this talk.

“Goo goo- fangirl- arrogant vill- ah just, you know what? You’re wrong, and you know it.” you said shaking your head. Ginny just shrugged.

“Well next time go see for yourself.” she said.

—————————————

You didn’t bother to follow Ginny’s instruction, however you couldn’t help to make ‘goo goo’ eyes yourself. He looked really good in a suit- he wore a different one everyday, and he looked good regardless of how flashy the colour of it was.

Time flew by and you were exhausted, just one more hour and the shop will close and you can go home to your nice and comfy bed. Just a moment after a customer left, Fred came out of his office and went to the entrance door and locked it. You were puzzled, we were closing early?

“(Y/n).” he said looking at you and walking to where you were. You didn’t know what to think he was going to say, were you in trouble? You weren’t sure. George wasn’t with him.

“We’re gonna close early just tonight.” he said. God, seeing him really up close was making it hard for you to not check him out. His hair, messy as always, but somehow managed to look good. His eyes were dark and warm, a contrast to his freckles which highlighted his face.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why?” you said softly.

“Well you see, George and I, we...” he paused mid sentence. Little did you know they had a plan. George told Fred for both of them to have dinner with you so that he could get some type of courage to sort of deal with his feelings. George did not mind being a third wheel, not that he think you’d notice anyway. And you were a good employee so the reason was not completely a lie.

“We wanted- we thought...” he managed to get out. This was not like him at all. It was like he was rushing to say something but couldn’t.

“Merlin- (y/n) would you like to have dinner with me?” he said. Fred decided to just get it out. You were shocked, your eyes widened, and a slight pink tinted your cheeks.

“You know what, just forget-”

“I’d love to.” you said fighting a grin appearing on your face. Fred on the other hand did not hold back and had a huge smile.

“Then could I...” he trailed off. You were backed up against a shelf as his hand went to your waist. He was hesitant because at this point you both knew what was about to happen. The look in your eyes and the little nod you gave was enough for him to crash his lips onto you.

It took a little while for your mind to process what was happening- you and Fred were kissing. You let your eyes flutter shut and you kiss him back, Your hands move up to his shoulders. Even with his suit you could feel his toned muscles underneath.

“Evening.” said a smooth voice from behind. You both pulled away with faces flushed and breathing fast and looked behind Fred. You saw George leaning on the table on his elbows... except he was being very dramatic about it purposely sticking his hips way out to the side.

You both were speechless, I mean what were you supposed to say when your boss’s twin just caught you kissing Fred? After a minute of silence-

“Well, guess I’m not invited to dinner anymore.” said George sighing.

“No wait George, you can come too.” you replied quickly. George whistled and shook his head.

“Always too kind for your own good (y/n), no wonder my less attractive twin fancies you.” teases George. You and Fred both blush in embarrassment.

“You guys go ahead, I’m not willing to be a third wheel, I think I’ll throw up before we even start eating.”

“But-”

“I’ll throw up!” George repeated, and then saluted and headed back into his office. Your eyesight lingered in George’s direction for a bit before turning back to Fred, your hands still on his shoulders.

“You fancy me...?” you said asking for confirmation.

“Yeah I do, quite hard not to if you ask me, walking around the shop looking like you do.” he said smirking. Oh, he was complimenting you. You covered your wide smile with your hand.

“And you..?” he asked back.

“Oh- yeah I do, I think I have since that day I had too much firewhiskey and called you the cute guy-” you instantly shut your mouth now knowing what spilled out. The look in Fred’s eyes were getting more mischievous. The was no way he wasn’t about to get cocky at what you just said,

“The cute guy?” he teased rubbing his large hand up and down your sides and bring you slightly closer. You covered your face in embarrassment.

“I think the word you’re looking for is handsome, love.” he said with a grin. Oh god, he would never let you hear the end of this.

“Oh stop embarrassing me will you?” you said shooing him away.

“To be fair, I think you’re pretty cute yourself...” he said tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. It was almost like he was about to lean in again.

“-but you’re going to have to tell me more about that cute guy, darling.” he said leading you out to door to dinner. You shook your head at him, he was a troublemaker for sure. What did you get yourself into?

#fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fic #fred and george

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aomineavenue · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 001. the unexpected.

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ intro | the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare ↪

mia’s speaks:

Okay, so before we start the story. I’d just like to explain that this may be a slow burn kinda thing because I fully want everyone to understand yn’s point of view after she ran away six years ago. We will eventually enter Atsumu’s point of view along the story, but for now, I hope you guys like this! Let me know what you guys think!

It had been six years and to this day, it still haunts you. Well, what they say is true anyway. Everything you run away from will eventually continue to haunt you until you decide to face it head-on. Needless to say, you were feeling pretty pathetic. Six years later, and that is still what you felt to this day. Pathetically sad.

The cool air emitting from the air conditioner set up in the living room, mixed with the early morning cold winter atmosphere that engulfed most of Japan with its beautiful white coat, brushes against the patches of exposed skin causing you to shiver slightly, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting to turn the appliance off during the night before. You had awoken too early for your liking, the sun barely peeking as you left the comforts of your bed to grab a cup of coffee. You were never a morning person, only because it was the time where you were often left with your thoughts as the time slot was usually unproductive.

During such unproductive hours, your thoughts usually consumed you. If it weren't about work or the handful of people you hold close to your heart, it often leads you to thoughts of your life six years ago. You wondered what it would be like if you hadn't opted to run away from reality a few years back during your high school years. Your train of thought often wandered to countless possibilities if you had faced your problems earlier on. To you now, running away seemed almost petty. Well, sorta.

Would you have been happy? Would they have accepted things? Would you have grown apart? Would they have pushed you away?

Sadly, you'd never know. This is only because you fear the truth so you refuse to return and seek certain answers that no doubt will only lead to ultimate disaster. You fear the consequences of your actions. To simply put, you were a coward.

You move your gaze away from the hot cup of coffee on the kitchen counter over to glance out of the window from your apartment, watching the dark skies slowly fade away to signal a brand new day on the horizon, the sun painting the sky a bright calming hue. Any minute now, your friends that had decided to crash at your place during the previous night are bound to wake up. Your tiny space had become some sort of safe haven for when they needed to hide away from their own problems, or when they needed you to nurse their drunken states.

Despite it sparking irritation within yourself, you could never bring yourself to deny them. The group had been nothing but a solid help for you the past six years when you fled from Hyōgo and where you settled yourself in the comforts of your late father's best friend back in Kanagawa, Suwa Riku, reconnecting with one of your childhood friends, Suwa Reiji. The loving Suwa family accepted you with open arms, practically calling you their own despite the situation you dug yourself in. Honestly, if they had turned you away, you would have probably ended up in the gutter somewhere in Japan as you had no other place to go. It wouldn't have even shocked you if they were to turn their backs at you when you had first came knocking on their front door, practically drenched from the pouring rain, it was barely enough to conceal the tears.

However, despite the past they barely knew, they accepted you with open arms without an ounce of judgment. If they were curious, they asked politely, and if certain questions were too difficult for you to answer, they respected your need for privacy.

When you had left everything behind in Hyōgo, you wanted to forget. You had deleted your previous profiles from any sort of social media platform that you had and changed your number when you had the chance. To everyone in Hyōgo, you completely disappeared, a mere ghost that residents either often gossiped about or have completely forgotten, it wasn't as if you were well known within the community, but—still, your disappearance had quite the impact. However, since no one has found you yet in the past six years, it probably meant that your mother didn't care. You assumed the same for your handful of friends. You stayed with the Suwa Family in Kanagawa for at least a year and a half, time for yourself and to get adjusted to your new life before you convinced yourself to get a job that will lead you to a somewhat peaceful life, you needed it for support, now more so than ever. Once again, you are in debt when your childhood friend Reiji offered you a job as a manager for their group. Of course, how could you say no? Despite the busy schedule, you managed enough, sometimes giving you the ability to be flexible.

Ah, yes. Suwa Reiji, the lead singer for the famous boy band, Galaxy Standard. The two of you had been friends before you had moved to Hyōgo when you were eight years old. Despite the distance between the two of you, when your father was still around since your fathers were close friends, the two of you did keep in touch. However, as you grew older and found new friends in Hyōgo, the need to keep in touch disappeared almost instantly. Thankfully, despite years of not having any contact with each other, the two of you reconnected, happy to be back in each other's lives.

The past six years, as you tried to find yourself and finally settle independently, Reiji was there.

And despite the exhausting job of managing a boy band, you adored it. It kept you occupied. Despite the boys being famous, you opted to keep your social media platforms private, or rather secret, only your friends and a few of Galaxy Standard's fans knew of it. Although the fans knew of your existence, you wanted your personal life private and thankfully, the management and fans respected that with the help from your friends who are aware of your situation. You wanted to stay hidden. Accompanying the boys in certain events, despite being a girl where it was typical for fangirls to grow upset because of the close contact with their idols, the fans respected you and often held polite conversations with you.

Yes, despite the troubles you have, you wouldn't deny the fact that you were indeed happy, but lately, something in the back of your mind has been irking you, making you feel extremely uneasy for not knowing what it could be. It frustrated you to no end.

"Someone looks like a vein in their head might pop," you hear Reiji tease as he approached. You roll your eyes before turning your attention over to the man that intruded your thoughts. Bless him, you were slowly becoming crazy with all the thinking. However, you weren't going to praise him or anything, despite Reiji's calm and humble personality towards others, he was a completely different person towards you; often teasing, most days very playful.

You snap back playfully, "Good morning to you, too." He occupies the seat across from you, despite stumbling to your apartment the previous night completely drunk from a party, the man before you showed no sign of a hungover, you were used to it by now. "Seriously, you and Shizuma need to find some other place to crash. I don't even know how you roped him into drinking, he was absolutely thrashed when the two of you arrived. Normally, he'd be the responsible one."

"Yeah, but once he starts drinking, there's no stopping him. And Nah," he chuckles as he leans against the counter, a yawn escaping his lips as he spoke midway, "Your place is comfy but also because I get to see the cute faces of my favourite nephews almost instantly, it's a bonus."

"Uncle Reiji!"

"Where's Uncle 'zuma?"

Speaking of the little devils. Both of your attentions snaps at the two identical figures that stepped out of their shared room and into the vicinity that you and Reiji occupied.

The sight of their sleepy states warmed your heart at just how cute they have grown. Ah, yes. Your two boys. One of the two reasons why you preferred to keep your personal life, private. Of course, there was also Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro to think about. Your precious boys, your utmost priority. Everything you could ever want and more. They were the two that you could finally call home. As much as you know that your existence wouldn't be much of a big deal to the fans since you weren't entirely famous, you refused to let your boys get caught into any unnecessary drama that your friends have often got themselves into, so despite having famous uncles, you kept them shielded whenever you can. Of course, the fans of Galaxy Standard were aware of the existence of your little boys, often swooning when one of their idols were photographed with one of the twins. Needless to say, it always made the fans crazy, but you were grateful that the fans were respectful and never crossed the line whenever your boys were included.

Of course, the main reason why you wanted everything to be kept private was that you didn't want certain people to know the secret you've worked hard to stay hidden, but Japan was big, wasn't it? You often reassured yourself that it was impossible for paths to cross.

"Why are you looking for your Uncle Shizuma when I'm here?" Reiji asks, feigning hurt in his expression as both six-year-old boys approach, yawning and sleepily rubbing their eyes.

Atsuhiro, or rather Hiro, as he liked to be called sighs as he shakes his head at his uncle, "But Uncle 'zuma is the best."

"Now you take that back young man!" He scoffs as he playfully places his hands on his hips, "Who do you think raised you?"

The little boy tilts his head to the side as he watches his uncle in amusement of his antics, "Uncle 'zuma helped too! Mommy says he even helped out changing diapers which you didn't do!"

"But Uncle Reiji's the best! He always plays with us!" Atsuhiko, Hiko, retorts as he rushes over to his uncle to give him a high five, "Mommy, Uncle Rei said he's going to teach us some tricks like he did back then in Stride! Isn’t that cool?"

You send a glare towards the man that was mentioned by your son, who only avoided your gaze as he ruffles your son's hair, "Maybe something else. You can ask your uncles to teach you how to sing and dance like they always do, just not that dangerous sport."

Atsuhiko groans in protest while the other twin approaches you, wrapping his short arms around your leg, "Do you think they can teach us volleyball?"

"Oh yes!" Atsuhiko yells out happily agreeing with his twin, his dismay for his mother's earlier disapproval flying out the window as he looks at you with hope in his eyes, "Volleyball is so cool! Can we mommy?"

Almost instantly, a lump formed in the back of your throat at the mention of the mere sport, a reminder. It wasn't as if you were against the sport, but what caught you off guard was the interests your boys clearly showed. How ironic.

As you raised the two, whether at times you were alone or had help, you often pushed the twins away from certain reminders of your past. What was that? Anything that reminded you of your past in Hyōgo was pushed aside. It was rather petty, you knew that yourself but as the twin boys grew throughout the years, it didn't get unnoticed how their features screamed of the one and only Miya Atsumu. Well, you expected that—he is the father of your twin boys, but you silently prayed during your pregnancy and as you raised them that their features would come from your side of the family instead of his.

But of course, somehow you've upset the Gods for your pettiness. This was your consequence. A daily reminder. There's no denying of your love for your boys. They were your life and you wouldn't change anything because then they wouldn't exist. However, you've grown hateful of your past as years gone by. Your hatred for the awful memories had made it more difficult to forget.

You expected the interest in volleyball before they even mentioned it to you today. The clues in their shared room were enough for you to pick up that they were most likely to take after their father in a sense, not that they know of such.

Earlier, about two years prior when they first started in kindergarten, it was inevitable for such to talk about your families, you remember experiencing such back then despite it being foggy. They returned home, despite being young, they were smart for their age and bombarded you with questions without holding back; wondering about who was their father and where he was, or if Uncle Reiji or Uncle Shizuma were their fathers. Back then, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them the truth or even utter a single word about the man missing in their lives.

You experienced a whole week of silent treatment from your two boys because you refused to answer, their stubbornness hard as a rock. You refuse to answer their questions? Well, they, of course, fight back by refusing to talk to you. Oh, children, right? Of course, Reiji and Shizuma were a big help because to the twins, the two of your friends were practically the only father figures that they had. Since Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro refused to utter a word to you, they tried their best to talk to the twins, avoiding certain parts that they were too young to know about, and explained that when they grew up and they were ready to know, you would eventually let them know.

Bless the heavens because, after that, your two boys returned to their loving yet sneaky nature, never asking or mentioning about their father again. However, the majority of the conversations about their father were kept in secret between the two. Atsuhiro wanting to know more while Atsuhiko pushing the idea away, but not wanting to upset his brother, he keeps his dismay of their missing father from Atsuhiro, who grew more eager to find his father as years go by.

"What's with all the excitement at such an early hour? You two always have so much energy. What's this I hear about wanting to play volleyball?" Shizuma saves you from answering and you share a silent communication to send your gratitude for the interference.

Atsuhiro breaks out into a grin at the sight of his favourite uncle and immediately approaches him, "Uncle 'zuma, do you know how to play volleyball? Can you teach me and Hiko? Please?"

Shizuma chuckles in response, ruffling the little boy's messy locks, "I'm not that good but if you and your brother are serious about wanting to learn volleyball, I know a friend that may be of help."

"You do?" Atsuhiko asks, excitement in his voice.

You repeat, arching a brow in curiosity, "You do?"

"Well he's more of Asuma's friend than mine but we're good acquaintances," he answers with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'll see what I can do for my two favourite nephews."

"Yes!" The twins exclaim happily at the same time before running towards each other to share their routine handshake.

"Now that's settled," Reiji starts, clapping his hands together to grab the attention from everyone in the room, "Aren't you two supposed to be getting ready for your day with Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa? You wouldn't want to keep those two waiting, I heard they have a really big day planned ahead for the two of you."

Ah, Grandpapa and Grandmama Suwa. Reiji's parents, and well—your substitute parents and the twins' substitute grandparents. Despite not being biologically related, they treated the three of you like a real family. They helped you throughout your pregnancy and at the same time raising your two boys. They did what any grandparent would do, discipline and spoil them. You wouldn't change it for the world. The love they had for your boys was overwhelming, and Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro completely adored their substitute grandparents just the same.

Atsuhiro releases a gasp from his lips at the realization of the big day, he had been excited, to say the least, rushing to get prepared whilst Atsuhiko frowns and stays rooted in where he stood, "But today's Uncle Asuma's birthday! I want to go too!"

"No can do, kiddo." Shizuma shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest; an indication the twins are familiar with that meant it was not up for any negotiation. "You know this party isn't for little boys, your Uncle Asuma already told you this, but he promised to take both of you out tomorrow to make up for it. You and Hiro can celebrate his birthday tomorrow, I promise."

Atsuhiko releases a dramatic sigh, throwing his little hands in the air as he stomps his way to get ready, knowing that if he were to argue, he would inevitably lose. Oh well, he thought to himself, Grandpapa and Grandmama are the best anyway.

"I don't know how you do it, 'zuma." You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Those two have become spoiled to the core because of all of us, yet when it comes to you and their Grandpapa Riku, they suddenly become little angelic-slash-monsters who obey every command."

Shizuma lets a grin spread on his lips, "Some things can't be taught. Anyway, I'll get going. I have to help prep Asuma's party. I'll see you guys there."

"I'll get going too," Reiji declares as he stands up from his seat, "Don't back out of the party, I'll drag you there if I have to, I swear."

You roll your eyes at them, more so at Reiji than Shizuma, shooing them with your hands as you follow them to the front door, "Yeah, whatever. I'll be there. Stop worrying."

Dropping the twins at the Suwa Residence after eating lunch together was often smooth sailing as the twins always adored spending the day with their substitute grandparents. However, Atsuhiko expressed his dismay of being left behind once again insisting of wanting to attend his Uncle Asuma's birthday party, you had to pry his hands away from his grip on your leg. Thankfully, you had help from his Grandpapa Riku, and after waving goodbye to a smiling Atsuhiro and a scowling Atsuhiko, you were off to get a few errands done before heading to Asuma's apartment to celebrate his birthday, taking your sweet time to avoid your favourite, yet rowdy bunch of friends, only because they probably wanted you to help them set up the party, which you didn't want to take part in.

Honestly, you could have chosen otherwise but decided against skipping the errands that would most probably pile up despite the break Galaxy Standard was having. Plus, you may or may not have, forgotten to get a gift for Asuma and if you showed up empty-handed, well, you weren't going to hear the end of it.

Hours went by as you got through your list of errands, you were left with messages and certain phone calls that you ignored throughout the day, you were finally able to buy a suitable gift for your friend. All there was left to do was show up to the party that was apparently already in full swing. Thankfully, your friend's lavish apartment was around the corner.

You waited for the traffic lights to signal the safe journey across the busy streets, your grip on the neatly wrapped gift on one hand slightly tightening against you as you shiver from Japan's cool winter breeze bustling through the air, something you're still obviously not very fond of. For as long as you can remember, you hated the cold. It was a bitter reminder of the times you were utterly alone. You always preferred the warm temperature, whether it was from a fireplace or someone else, it kept you from going numb, made to remind you of reality.

The sound of your phone ringing startles you from your thoughts and you pull the device from one of your pockets, Reiji's name flashing across the screen. You grumble to yourself of his impatience before answering the call, bringing the device up to press against your ear. Before you could utter a word, he beats you to it in a demanding tone, "Where are you? You're late."

"Hold your horses, Rei." You answer in irritation as you look up ahead to check the traffic lights that still had the signal to stay where you were, "I'm almost there. Be patient." However, you couldn't process the words Reiji muttered next from the other line. Someone calling out your name catching your attention, your eyes widening slightly at the realization of who it was. Immediately, you cut off Reiji's rambling from the other line and ended the call, slipping the phone back into your pocket as you feel your shoulder tense at his presence standing next to you. "Osamu."

"So it is you," he blinks in disbelief, his eyes drinking your features bit by bit to check if he was dreaming or not, "You look different, I barely recognized you if it weren't for your voice, but it really is you."

You nod stiffly, "I suppose I would since it has been six years and all. What are you doing all the way here in Kanagawa?"

Suddenly, a memory flashes across your mind. A memory of earlier in your apartment, Shizuma mentioning a friend who knew how to play volleyball. No, it couldn't be, right?

"Ah, I'm actually checking a few spots around here for my business," he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "So Kanagawa, huh? This is where you've been hiding all this time?"

Your lips press into a thin line, feeling uneasy under his gaze. Of course, you would, you're practically hiding a really big secret. "I'm sorry, I don't have time to chat. I have plans and my friends are already egging me on for being late."

The traffic lights save you from a painful conversation, signalling that it was safe to cross but before you could take a step away, you feel him grasp onto your shoulder to pull you back. You turned your head to face him, ready to fight him off but you halted your actions at the sign of sadness his features displayed. You took the time to examine his features, your heart practically leaping as you were able to take in everything unlike seconds ago where you were purposely trying to leave. Of course, back then when you were friends, you considered Osamu as handsome. I mean, why wouldn't you? You were practically in love with his twin brother who you found extremely handsome at the time. However, that wasn't what ran through your mind. You began thinking that Atsumu probably looked just as good, and suddenly you felt a shitload of bricks slamming right down on your shoulders, the feeling of panic surging through your veins, wondering if Atsumu was around too that you failed to notice Osamu pull out a small card from his wallet, holding it out for you to take. He seemed to read your thoughts as he spoke to reassure you, "Don't worry. He's not here, but..." He trails off, looking at you with hope in his eyes, "take this, it has my number on it. When you're ready, I'm here to listen. I always have been. I want to know what you've been up to. I want to catch up."

At Osamu's reassurance, you feel your shoulders slowly relax as you take the card from him, your eyes scanning the printed numbers and words, Ongiri Miya, making you realize that he hadn't pursued Volleyball like his twin often rambled on. You flicker your gaze up to meet his once more and he gives you a small smile. You slowly nod as you slip the card into one of your back pockets, "I have to go."

He watches you leave, the smile he had instantly morphed into a frown as he watches you walk away once more and eventually disappear from his line of sight. He silently prayed that you would contact him when you could, wanting to reconnect with you after all these years, to know why you left. He promises to himself that when you do decide to reach out, that you wouldn't mention anything to his idiot brother.

He noted the shift of your body, how your shoulders relaxed at the mention of someone not being around, he knew that you had thought about his brother. And it only confirmed his suspicion of you leaving because of what his brother had done six years ago, the last day people saw you in Hyōgo. However, something still was missing, he still craved an answer. You couldn't have left just because of Atsumu's actions. So what was it?

Either way, he was determined to find out. You may have not known it then, but Osamu cared about you a lot. However, due to you being blinded by his twin brother's light, you failed to notice. He wasn't going to let you go this time, he'll find a way to get you back in his life. His phone blares his ringtone, snapping him out of his thoughts. As he brings his phone up, he grumbles underneath his breath at the sight of his brother's incoming call. Speak of the devil.

"What is it?"

He hears his brother whine from the other line, "Can't I just call my brother once in a while?"

"You only ever do that when you're in trouble or need something," he retorts with a roll of his eyes.

Atsumu laughs in response, "How'd the shop searching go? Anything interesting so far? When you coming back?"

"Hold up, what's with the questions?" He laughs at the sound of his brother's enthusiasm. It's true, they often disagreed with each other but when it came to supporting each other's passion, they were always there for the other. He shifts his gaze over to where you stood moments ago, a smile ghosting his lips at the memory of the brief conversation the two of you shared. "Yeah, maybe something interesting here in Kanagawa after all." He listens to his brother speak excitedly over the phone causing him to shake his head at the ridiculous tone. "Oh? He's here? Maybe I can hit him up..."

After the encounter with Osamu, you practically quickened your pace to Asuma's apartment, your heart beating erratically. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until you were gasping for air. Luckily, the majority of Asuma's guests were preoccupied that they hadn't noticed your entrance. You were sure you looked embarrassing looking extremely flustered.

You hear your name being called and as soon as you caught your breath, you notice Shizuma calling you over, Asuma and Reiji along with someone you seem to recognize but can’t seem place in your mind. Walking over, your lips curl up to a small smile as you extend your arm to hand over Asuma's gift, "Happy Birthday, 'suma. Here's my gift."

Asuma's eyes instantly light up, retrieving the gift from you, "I was going to get mad at you for being late but since you have a gift for me, I'll let it slide. Did the boys pick this for me?"

"Gee, aren't I lucky." You drawl sarcastically, a laugh being shared within the group as you shake your head, "No, you think those two would let me give them your gift? They said they'll give it to you tomorrow when you take them out. Hiko was upset when I left him with his Grandpapa Riku, though. He had this cute little scowl." Your three friends laugh, imagining their nephew in their heads. You flicker your attention over to the person who was watching you interact with the others with amusement, you smile at him politely. "I'm sorry. How rude of me."

"Oh, right!" Shizuma speaks as soon as your name slips out of your mouth to introduce yourself, holding out your hand for a shake which he grabs, "This is the friend I was talking about that can teach the boys volleyball."

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" He starts with a grin as he shakes your hand firmly, his enthusiasm infectious. Releasing his grip on your hand, he sends a little wave, "Bokuto Koutarou I'm a friend of Asuma's. Shizuma here was just telling me about your boys and how they were interested in volleyball and I wouldn't mind helping them out."

Asuma adds, "He's a professional volleyball player for Japan's V.League in Division 1. MSBY Black Jackals was it?"

You watch as the man who you thought kind of resembled a horned owl nod his head towards Asuma's direction, something about him oddly familiar. You hum along, eyes widening slightly at the information. "Professional? Wow, colour me impressed. Wouldn't you be too busy to train two six-year-olds, then?"

"I'll speak for everyone who knows her two boys that they're absolute devils," Reiji chuckles with a shake of his head, "Fast learners though. We'd teach them how to run like in Stride if we could but their mother over here refuses."

You scoff, "Because that sport can be dangerous!"

"Stride, huh?" Bokuto butts in, interested. "But yes, I have some time to teach. I'm sure they'll be okay. I owe Asuma anyway. I don't mind."

The corners of your mouth twitch to an unsure smile. You didn't know if you were going to go through with this if you were honest, but it isn't exactly something you can reject as your three other friends were present, and they would do anything for their favourite set of twins, spoiled rotten those two were.

"Don't worry," Shizuma claims, nudging you with his elbow as he gives you a reassuring smile, "They'll be in good hands, one of us will find the time to attend their little training. We're not as busy lately due to our little holiday anyway."

You hum softly as you continue to examine Bokuto under your gaze before something in your mind clicks, eyes widening ever so slightly. “I think I know you! Weren’t you at the Christmas Party last year that Reiji held?”

He nods with a grin, “I was actually. Asuma invited me and I went along with a couple of friends. Funny how we’ve crossed paths before and yet we’re only meeting now, ay?”

“Ah, yeah. I think I remember now, sort of.” you laugh, nodding your head in agreement, “That party was crazy anyway. I don’t think anyone wants to remember that crazy night. Especially Reiji.”

The man mentioned scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s why whenever I plan parties it’s never at my place anymore.” He shudders at the memory, “Drunk bastards doing the nasty at my place. And that model’s awful moaning could be heard even when the music was blasting.”

You scrunch up your face in disgust, “Thankfully I left early then,”

An awkward laugh escapes Bokuto’s lips as he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah about that...”

“That was you?” you and Asuma let out a gasp, eyes widening while Shizuma bursts out laughing. Reiji on the other hand, obviously not amused at the information.

“Dude, what the heck!” Reiji exclaims, brows furrowing, “The least you could have done was choose a guest bedroom rather than on my own bed!”

“Oy!” he laughs, holding his hands out, “I didn’t say it was me. I was just saying I know who it was. It was one of my friends, but I’d rather not say who.”

Asuma joins his older brother Shizuma in laughing at the side while you try your best to calm down Reiji by tugging on his arm. “Anyway, Bokuto. I think we should talk about the schedule of your training with my boys. I’m sure they’ll be excited when they find out someone will be training them volleyball.”

Somehow, a part of you was screaming at you, telling you that this wasn't going to end well. Of course, you didn't realize at the time that you would come to regret such a decision, not like you had any say against it either. Your little boys were spoiled rotten and often got their way whether through innocent means or their sneaky tactics. It didn't help that their group of uncles were wrapped around their little fingers.

Ah, yes. You hadn't realized it yet, but it was the start of a roller coaster ride.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #atsumu miya x reader #miya x reader #miya imagine #miya imagines

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

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Putting it Back Together Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story, blood, slow burn, touch starved

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere

This had not been part of his plan, Adam thought as he switched on a lamp and cringed at the disaster that was his livingroom. Instruments and musical equipment were strewn all over the place, wires and amps just waiting to trip the unwary or uncoordinated. Which, by everything he had observed so far, definitely included his companion.

"Sorry for the mess," he mumbled, clearing a path to the sofa with his foot.

"Don't be," Lilly smiled, looking around with avid interest. "It's exactly how I envisioned it!"

"Great," Adam rolled his eyes.

"Not that I've been envisioning it," she blurted out, face turning scarlet. "I just meant... well, if I thought about it at all, which I only did because I could hear you so clearly over here... and what with all the clattering around..."

"You expected it to be a wreck," he finished for her as he swept a collection of books off of the ancient sofa and onto the floor.

"It's cozy," she said lamely.

"If you say so. Sorry I don't have anything to offer you except water to drink. I don't entertain. Ever."

"Water would be perfect," she smiled encouragingly at him, as though he were a toddler displaying acceptable manners in company.

Which, he supposed, was about right. Fuck, he wasn't even sure if the water here was potable. He had never drank any of it, of course. He only used the kitchen sink to wash the cordial glasses from which he drank his blood. Fetching a slightly larger cup that he had found in the cupboard when he moved in and giving it a quick clean, Adam let the water run for a few minutes to help clear out the pipes. It didn't look too contaminated; he hoped he was not about to poison her.

"Here," he walked back to the livingroom and thrust the glass into her hand. "No ice, freezer doesn't work."

"I'd say you should call the super, but I guess that doesn't work if you're the owner."

"It doesn't really bother me," he replied with a shrug. "I'll fix it myself eventually."

"After all, you don't have guests," she said impishly.

"Right."

"Perfectly drinkable," she judged after taking a sip from the cup.

"Good. Now, let me see if I can find that tape player."

That was what she was doing here, after all. Why his invitation had popped out he could not fathom, much less how he had ended up bringing her back here that very night. At least this way he could limit the time he spent with her, he supposed. It was already two in the morning; not long until the sun began to approach the horizon and he would be forced to show her the door whether he wanted to or not.

Glancing over to where she lounged on his sofa, he was not so sure what the decision would be on that one. Her legs, stretched out on the cushion, were quite shapely despite her petite stature, and the red top just invited one to run their hands over it to feel the silky material and the lush curves underneath. And then, of course, there was her neck, long and white and begging to be bitten.

Adam swallowed and turned away. He could not help but think of the last time he had had a mortal in his home, though it had not been this one. Ian, his supplier of instruments and all around procurer had been almost a friend, if a zombie could ever be thought so. He was sweet and harmless, and Adam had a genuine affection for him in a distant sort of way. It had been a horrid shock to walk into the room one night after sun set and see the young man sitting lifeless on the couch, blood drained from his body and drying on the face of Ava, Eve's feral sister.

Adam had always hated Ava, and that night had been the last straw. It was also the beginning of the end to life as he knew it. Within hours he had tossed her out on her skinny ass, disposed of poor Ian's body, and was on a flight with Eve to Tangier, where she was destined to drink tainted blood and die. All because Ava had sucked Ian dry. All the more reason to hate his late wife's bitch of a sister.

Still, looking at Lilly stretching herself out, he could understand a little better how Ian had come to die. Ava had whined to them about how cute he had been, how she couldn't resist. At the time he had scorned such a thing as a pathetic lack of self control. He still did to a large extent, but at last he knew the urge. Not just the urge to feed, an impulse they all shared, but an urge to take a human in such an intimate embrace. When Eve was alive it would never have occurred to him, he had had her for such connections, he needed no one else. Now though, alone and untouched for years, he longed to feel Lilly's smooth skin against his mouth, to hear her gasp and sigh as he ran his lips over her neck.

Not that he would ever drain her, of course. He was not such a monster. He would not even drink from her. To do so would expose his true nature, and that would mean relocating again, as well as putting her life in danger.

No, he would do her this one favor, and then he would return to seclusion. He would make sure that he left through the basement when absolutely necessary so that she did not hear him, would otherwise stay inside so that their paths would cease to cross. It would be better for them both.

"Here it is," he mumbled with satisfaction. "Give me a moment to set it up."

"Take your time," she said happily.

Glancing over, Adam saw that she had given up lounging and was now coiling up all of guitar cables into neat rounds. He had to admit that she did a good job - they were neither too tight so as to damage the wires nor too loose so as to unravel as soon as she walked away. With a shrug of his shoulders he allowed her to continue. The cables could use sorting, and he was certainly not inclined to the task.

"Sorry," she said with a blush as she caught him staring. "I warned you, I fidget. I seem to always need something to do with my hands."

He could think of several things she could do to keep her hands busy, he thought. God, what was wrong with him? Was he really so touch starved?

"Where's the tape?" he finally asked

She leapt up from where she had been sitting, breasts bouncing as she did, and almost reverently handed him the box containing her Grandmother's recordings. Adam turned back around, discreetly adjusting himself as he did. He carefully placed the spool in his machine, grateful for something to occupy him until he got himself under control.

After a short series of clicks and static while the tape began to unreel, a scratchy blare of a trumpet began to waft through the air, soon joined by a piano and soft brushes on drums. Adam was taken back to a different era. A time when he had circulated more among the general population of humans. Women wore dresses and hats, men suits and ties, and a sophisticated style permeated the music scene. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed that era, the end of the 40s and beginning of the 50s. Between his excitement at the recent technological advances and his nostalgia for the old days of the height of classical composition, Adam sometimes forgot the joy and sorrow, the feeling that jazz could evoke.

When the voice, low, smooth, and heavy with emotion, slid in like honey, he looked instinctively to Lilly. Her mouth was open, shaped with a hint of smile at the corners. Her eyes blinked quickly, struggling he was sure to hold back tears. This would be the first time, he supposed, that he had heard her Grandmother sing since she had died. Even without the connection to the woman, Adam himself was moved by the song. He was struck by how strong Lilly was being, listening and holding back her tears.

Moving one step towards her, Adam opened his arms. With a catch of indrawn breath Lilly took two steps of her own and for the second time buried her face against his chest. It was so different thought, he thought as his arms came around her. That first night on the roof, she had been some annoying zombie woman, pushing herself in where she was not wanted. Her blubbering all over him had been almost violent in the way she sobbed and clutched at him. Now, she simply melted against him, and he gently stroked her back as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

The song ended and another began, this one he remembered. It had been a huge hit, still was sung every so often, covered by lesser vocalists. Lilly's Grandmother was not one of those. She was a true artist.

"There's a somebody I'm longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me..."

As the music continued, Adam found himself swaying to it, bringing Lilly along with him. She was stiff at first in his arms when he began to dance with her, but when she realized what he was doing she relaxed and allowed herself to feel the rhythm. She would never be a natural dancer, and she was clearly still in her head, but there was something sweet about that. She tried so hard at everything. Tried to be strong, tried to keep busy, tried to learn, tried to be happy.

When was the last time he had been happy, Adam wondered. When was the last time he had even tried? Not since Eve, certainly. Before that, he was unsure. There were moments, of course, even at the end with her when he had been so. He loved her with an enduring passion. But he had been going through the motions for decades, shutting himself off from the world around him. Ian had been practically his only connection to it.

Pulling back a bit, he spun Lilly about and half smiled at her. It felt strange to smile even that much. Muscles he had not used in forever only half remembered how to work. He had always had a brooding nature, but of late it had become harsh even for him.

They kept dancing until the tape ended, adjusting to the tempo and style of each song. It felt so good to lose himself in someone else's music for a change. To hold someone, to connect with someone. She was right, what she had said earlier that night. Music required no discussion, no messy dialogue. You could just feel it, let it move through you. And where there was someone else there, someone who even if not a musician herself clearly had an ear and more to the point a soul for it, to share it with it could be a profound experience.

When at last the song ended, Adam and Lilly's eyes met and something deeper than a smile passed between them. It was sad and joyful and required no words. They both collapsed on the sofa, Adam pulling her into the crook of his arm as he sat sprawled and tired. Lilly's legs were curled under her and she rested her head against his chest. He could feel the rise and fall of breathing, fast at first from the exertion of dancing, begin to slow. It was some time later that he realized she had fallen asleep on him.

How strange, he thought, that she should be so comfortable with him that she could so easily drift off. He had perfected the art of scaring people off, and yet this tiny woman had tenaciously refused to be run off. She seemed to trust him, even, had shared something deeply personal with him.

The sun would be up soon. He should wake her, he knew. Yet, looking at how peaceful she looked he could not bring himself to do so. Gently, Adam slid out from beneath her, lowering her head down onto a convenient throw pillow. He foraged about until he found a blanket on an armchair and draped it over her, tucking her in. Lilly sighed and burrowed deeper into the sofa, a light sigh escaping her lips.

Taking one last look, he made sure the curtains were drawn, turned off the light, and headed to his bedroom. Things would go back to normal tomorrow; they had too. But let them both sleep peacefully today.

***

Lilly scrunched her eyes and stretched a bit, trying to wriggle away from a hard lump she could feel under her left side. What had she left on her bed that was poking into her with such insistency. Feeling under her blindly, she pulled out something long and wooden. A drumstick? How on earth had that ended up in her bed? And why did the mattress feel like velvet?

As she emerged from the fog of sleep, Lilly came to the sudden realization that she was not, in fact, in her own bed.

Sitting up, she felt a smile cross her face that was lit from within. Last night had been a good night. She had reconnected with some old friends, and maybe even made a new one. Twenty-four hours ago Lilly would have thought the possibility of a friendship with Adam a fantasy at best, delusion more likely. And yet he had approached her, he had accepted her invitation to the club, and he had issued an invitation of his own that led her back to his apartment.

Oh, not that Lilly was crazy enough to think that he meant anything more by it than friendship. She was not the type of woman that brooding musicians stayed up composing love songs for. She was the type who hounded them with her insistent chirping until they finally relented and occasionally allowed them inside, like the mangy cat you gave milk to once who would forever after haunted your door. She was fine with that, she told herself. He had been a friend when she needed one, lending her an arm to dance with and a shoulder to lean on when she needed it most.

He had also, it seemed from the blanket draped around her, tucked her in. Her grin widened. Despite how hard he tried to cultivate his grumpy persona, Adam had could not hide the sweet kindness in his nature from her any longer. She had felt it as he had held her last night, and later when they danced.

That had been something she would not soon forget. Lilly was too tense as a rule to be graceful, but Adam was such a strong leader that she had stopped worrying about his poor toes and let herself simply enjoy. His body had been a continuation of the music, feeling it to the tips of his fingers and the ends of his hair it seemed. All loose and yet firm where his hand lay on her back, he had guided her flawlessly, swaying to the sound.

All in all, it had been a far better send off for her grandmother than the stuffy funeral planned by her father. The old woman would have enjoyed last night, Lilly knew, and she would have enjoyed Adam. Beyond the shared love of music, his sharp tongue and kind heart would have been just to her liking.

Not wanting to send her mind down fruitless paths, Lilly stood up to get a better look at the room. It really was exactly how she had imagined it, if not more so. Every flat surface from the floor to the mismatched furniture was covered in instruments, sound equipment, mechanisms for which she had no names, and the odd notebook or staff paper. Three of the walls were covered in sound proofing foam, the third in an odd collection of portraits. Looking at them, Lilly found scientists, authors, artists, philosophers, all sorts of creative and intellectual types. She made a game of naming them all, only coming up blank on two (although three more were guesses), and trying to decipher meaning from who was present and who absent. Somewhere in there, she was sure, was the secret to his mind's inner working.

Part way through her perusal, Lilly realized that nature was calling. Assuming the layout to his home was similar to hers, she made her way as quietly as she could up the creaky staircase. Once at the top, she was greeted with a long hallway, three doors on each side.

The first door she tried opened into a room dominated by a large drum kit. Scattered about around it were a music store's worth of other percussive instruments. Some day, she thought, she would like to come back and play in here, to see if she could bang out some of her inner frustration. It must be as good as therapy in some ways!

As she opened the second door an avalanche of what she thought were rugs or tapestries of some sort threatened to come spilling out and bury her. She quickly leaned all of her weight against it to close it shut again, hoping she hadn't disturbed anything expensive and moved on to the third door.

Lilly forgot how to breath as she opened it. There, spread out on a large bed covered in pillows, lay Adam, completely naked.

Lilly knew she needed to quickly exit, closing the door behind her, but she could not seem to make her limbs obey her. If Michelangelo had wanted a model for his David, he could have used him, she thought. Adam lay on his stomach, face buried in a pillow. While this luckily or unfortunately (she could not decide) preserved some of his modesty, there was still quite a bit on display to appreciate.

Broad, well muscled shoulders and back gleamed pale, contrasting against the dark of his hair where it fell. His waist segued gorgeously into a pair of slender hips and - dear lord, there should be a law! - a perfectly firm and round ass that Lilly would have given her right hand to squeeze. Long, lean legs seemed to go on for days, and actually fell off the bed before reaching his gigantic feet. A mischievous part of Lilly felt the urge to reach out and tickle them, and she actively clasped her hands behind her back to keep from acting on this awful impulse.

Had she really tried to convince herself, just moments before, that she was perfectly happy to just be his friend? If so, she had been deluding herself. Oh, she would take what she could get, but Lilly knew in that moment that she would go to her grave ruined for anyone else.

As she stood staring unabashedly at him, Adam mumbled something incomprehensible into the pillow. Lilly started to make for the door, but his head turned towards her and she realized he was still asleep. Cautiously, she lingered a moment longer, watching as he reached out to the other side of the bed, as though searching for something not there.

"Eve," he said, clearly this time. "Baby, I miss you."

Someone had reached into Lilly's chest and crushed her heart between their fist.

She had no idea why it had never occurred to her that he might have a lover, or even a wife. He was beyond gorgeous, brilliantly talented, and obviously had money. Anyone would want him. Why should she assume that just because there was no woman here at this moment he was single?

And yet, clearly, she had. The raw emotion in his voice, the need as he called the woman's name had been all it took to destroy her heart.

Following the direction he was facing, Lilly realized that in this room of dirty laundry and bedding, one picture stood out like a beacon. Placed on the table next to the bed where it could clearly be seen was a photo of Adam and a woman of ethereal beauty. She was not "pretty" in a conventional way, but had something far beyond that. Almost as tall as he was, and perhaps even paler, she was stunning in a cream colored suite with yellow gold hair. Adam had his arms twined around her center, and looked at her with such love in his eyes that it was unmistakable.

Forgetting her need for the bathroom, Lilly bolted out of the room and down the stairs. She needed to get out of here. Away from the perfect man who she was afraid she had already fallen for and the perfect woman who was clearly everything Lilly was not. Including it now became clear, the one that Adam wanted.

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