#i like the one where the singer seems to say 'pretty' in an odd way

[keeps-ache]

every now and then something in my brain turns on and oh hello information i didn't know i had stored! where've you been !

[theteasetwrites]

Auld Lang Syne

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: language ❧ Word Count: 2.7k

❧ Summary: It's New Year's Eve at the Commonwealth, and the festivities are in full swing, but you're not so sure you belong at this party, until someone makes you feel more welcome.

❧ A/N: Here is the last oneshot of 2022! It's been such a wild year. I will probably make a separate post thanking everyone for such a great year, but in the meantime, here's this little guy. I wanted to give 2022 the proper sendoff, and what better way than with a little NYE fic? Just some mutual pining kind of stuff. Two shy bbies dancing around their obvious attraction for each other. Also Daryl being a little bit of a dork. Oh, and I tried to kind of hint at a tragic backstory for the reader without going too in-depth because I wanted this to be a happy, simple oneshot, but I hope I got across the fact that there's actually more going on there. Anyway, happy new year!

The small apartment was roaring with the intermingling sounds of raucous laughter and the discordant choir of voices from twenty or so different conversations overlapping each other. Music blared from some unknown corner of the room, and though the voices and laughter mostly drowned it out, you could faintly hear the tune of some radio friendly pop song that you recalled being played mercilessly on repeat just a few months before the world ended.

Funny how music and films and clothing had all stayed the same, frozen in time. All the glamorous singers and pretty, smooth-skinned actors had either been killed and turned into flesh-eating monsters, or were now just trying to get by like everyone else, somewhere in some part of the world where humans hadn’t been eradicated by the walking dead. 

The end had often been called the “great equalizer,” destroying the idea of any supremacy or hierarchy that had once existed among humans, but that wasn’t the case here, in the Commonwealth. Even you knew that, and you didn’t know much, except that you could trust the greedy politicians who ran this place about as far as you could throw them. 

At least they weren’t here, you supposed. At least they were in their lofty homes, unburdened by the rabble as they partook in their own New Year’s festivities. Here in a new woman’s apartment, you stood in the corner, taking small sips of the cranberry and ginger ale punch you’d served yourself. It kept you occupied, swirling the ruby red concoction in your glass as people seemed to partner up, talking and laughing without a care in the world, for the moment.

You still were unsure why you’d been invited. After all, the woman, Carol, didn’t know you very well—you only worked together at the bakery, you having been the person in charge of training her. Still, she’d shown more, dare you say, kindness, towards you than anyone else here had. 

You’d engaged in brief conversation with her, receiving introductions to several of the new people who’d arrived from the settlement in Virginia called Alexandria. Some of them you knew vaguely—the priest called Gabriel was already well-known for his inspiring sermons; Rosita, one of the new soldiers, was always present at any big event put on by the Miltons; Eugene was an odd one, but he’d struck up awkward conversation with you when you were both in line for an ice cream cone. 

Aaron you knew best, as he’d asked you to babysit his daughter, Gracie, a handful of times when he went outside the walls. All of them were nice people, as far as you could tell, though you knew not to trust too easily, even in the Commonwealth. Especially in the Commonwealth. 

There was one man you’d yet to officially meet, however. 

He arrived later than you did, sidestepping around the crowd to get to Carol, who greeted him with open arms and a kiss upon his cheek. His hand cupped her cheek as he smiled bashfully, then stepped away to shake hands with Aaron and Gabriel. 

You’d seen him before, coming to visit Carol in the bakery. He seemed close to her, as they spoke like they knew each and every aspect of each other’s lives. You hadn’t known anyone to that extent in years. You kept it like that on purpose, of course. Opening up to people like that could be dangerous. Bad things had happened before. 

But Daryl, the man with gentle waves of chestnut hair that reached to his shoulders, and eyes of blue that were only occasionally visible between loose strands of those unruly locks, seemed kind. Brusque, but kind. 

She was lucky to have a man like that, you thought. Every time that thought came to mind, though, you shook yourself out of it. 

Daryl caught your curious eyes for just a moment, until he averted them, as did you. Still, he raised them slowly, getting a glimpse of your dress. It covered you to just above your knees, with a turtleneck collar and long sleeves. The soft, velveteen fabric shifted between dark blue and black, with a smattering of tiny sparkles embedded to catch reflections of the various colored lights that hung loosely on the walls. The small black heels strapped delicately around your ankles made your legs look longer, and he’d never seen them before, exposed in this way. It didn’t help him. He was already fond of you, from a distance. A great distance. 

Pretty, sweet, cute, nice smile, nice legs… 

Shut the fuck up. 

He’d hardly spoken a word to you, of course. He was shy, and you were perhaps even shyer. Still, he’d catch glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye, hear your voice when you’d say something to Carol during his visits… He had to admit, at first he did come to the bakery to see Carol, but after a while, it wasn’t really her he was there to see.

“You should talk to her,” Carol said, nudging his shoulder to break his trance. “She looks lonely.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed before taking a deep sip of his wine. He’d need it if he was going to get through this party. “M’sure she don’t wanna talk to me.”

Carol narrowed her eyes at the frustratingly self-deprecating man. It was so maddening to think that such a good person could think so little of himself. “But you like her, don’t you?” she prodded.

“I, uh… I don’t know ‘er.”

“Well, New Year’s Eve is about new beginnings,” she said. “You should get to know her tonight.”

“Talking about (Y/N)?” Aaron’s voice came from behind Daryl as he inserted himself into the conversation. “She’s nice. Shy, but nice. You should make a move.”

“Make a move?” Daryl repeated in confusion. 

“I mean, just… You know, talk to her.”

It suddenly occurred to Daryl that his feelings must’ve been more obvious to his friends than he’d thought. 

“Here,” said Carol, turning to grab one of the sheets of paper she’d lovingly written out by hand. “Hand her one of these. Strike up a conversation, yeah?”

He squinted his eyes at the painstakingly neat writing. The biggest three words at the top of the sheet were almost unintelligible, though, as they seemed like gibberish to him. 

“What the hell is this?”

Carol rolled her eyes. “It’s the lyrics to Auld Lang Syne.” He stared at her in confusion. “You know, the song people used to sing at New Year’s Eve, when the clock strikes twelve?”

He still had no idea what she was talking about. He’d never even been to a New Year’s Eve party, let alone cared enough to familiarize himself with the traditions.

“Just give it to her,” added Aaron, gently pushing Daryl in your direction via the hand on his shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. Fireworks are gonna start soon.”

He gently pushed his way through the small crowds that separated you from him, and when you eyed the figure of the broad-shouldered man coming your way, you quickly looked away, terrified of making eye contact, in case he hadn’t really set his eyes on you. It was hard to believe anyone would want anything to do with you here, and yet, he stopped right in front of you, holding out a white sheet of paper that caught your attention.

“H-here,” he stuttered, clearing his throat at the end of the one-word sentence. He cursed himself for being so abrupt, and not nearly as smooth and debonair as he’d hoped.

You tilted your head as you looked at him, eyes a little wide. “What?”

“Uh, here,” he repeated. “This is for you.”

“Oh.” You took the paper hesitantly, examining it cautiously. “Auld Lang Syne. Right.”

“You know what that is?”

“Yeah, just because… I was in choir for a while. We sang it at winter shows.”

He shuffled his feet nervously, chewing on his lip as he nodded his head. “What’s, uh… What’s that mean, anyway?” There was a slight chuckle to his voice. You were surprised that you caught it amidst the cacophony of noise all around you. That made you notice that, strangely, his voice reverberated above the rest. How was that possible? He was soft-spoken, despite the gruff, gravelly texture. That voice was quiet, but strong to you. 

“It means ‘times gone by,’ or something. It’s like… It’s about not forgetting the past, but looking forward to the future. That’s why they sing it at New Year’s Eve parties, you know?”

You could’ve sworn that was the most you’d spoken all night, and a part of you was terrified you’d spoken too much.

And then, it occurred to him that he hadn’t introduced himself. “I’m Daryl.” He cleared his throat again. “Seen ya at the bakery.”

“I’m (Y/N)... You always come in to see Carol.” You weren’t sure where you were going with this conversation. 

“Yeah, uh… Yeah.”

“So… you two been together long?” Wow, that’s a stupid question. You weren’t even sure why you asked that, knowing that the answer would just make the sinking feeling in your stomach that you had when you saw them together reach new lows. 

His eyes widened. “We ain’t… Nah, we’re friends.”

The relief you felt was almost shameful. The sinking feeling in your stomach was gone. “Oh,” you laughed under your breath, trying to ease the tension. “Sorry, I thought…”

Damn, he thought. Gotta stop spendin’ so much time with Carol. 

“S’fine. Anyway, I, uh, I like your dress.” He cursed himself for his conversational skills, but you smiled as a blush blossomed onto your cheeks. 

“Thanks. I like your… hair.” You shook your head immediately, letting out a deep sigh of embarrassment. “Wow, I suck at this.”

“Suck at what?” he asked, himself now blushing a little. You liked his hair, the careless mop of deep caramel locks that sprouted unceremoniously from his scalp. He’d spent a whole thirty lackluster seconds grooming his hair. Now he’d think about that all night, how you’d found his low effort hairstyle to be, dare he assume, attractive. Perhaps even… handsome?

“Conversations. Especially at parties. I’ve never been to a New Year’s Eve party before.”

“Me neither.”

You smiled again. You almost hated how easily he elicited that expression out of you. “Do you think it means anything?”

You continued to surprise yourself. Just the man’s presence seemed to make you want to talk, to open your mouth and just let whatever words were floating around in your head pour out. It was dangerous to be around him, you concluded, but it was a good kind of dangerous. It felt good.

“What?” he asked.

“The new year. Do you believe in new beginnings, stuff like that? I’m not sure if I do. That’s why I ask.”

He looked around for a moment, examining the empty air as if the answer would be there. “Well, I dunno if it all… happens at once. Just ‘cause it’s a new year don’t mean everything is gonna be different all of a sudden.” Hell, he barely even cared about what year it was going to be in a few minutes. “But I guess they can happen, if ya want it to. If ya make it happen.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I think so, too.” 

He seemed to open his mouth for a moment, as if to speak, but Carol’s voice interrupted. She had calmed down the party, announcing, “We’re going to start the countdown! Everyone get ready to sing!”

You exchanged a look with Daryl, somewhere between slight annoyance and amusement. “You ready?” he asked, slightly fixated on your eyes. He simply couldn’t look away, so much so that he hadn’t noticed the countdown had already begun. 

For your part, you held his gaze, mouth slightly agape as the others chanted eight… seven… six… 

“Five,” you finally started chanting along, still entranced by the stranger beside you. “Four…”

“Three,” Daryl joined in. 

Two, one… 

“Happy new year!”

A raucous cheer erupted from the party, with glasses clinking and couples exchanging kisses and the sound of fireworks exploding in the midnight sky. You turned excitedly, always entranced by the firework display the Commonwealth put on. 

“Look!” you said, turning to Daryl with the most enthusiasm he’d ever seen on your usually demure face. “I love the fireworks.”

He nodded. “I ain’t seen fireworks in… ten years,” he said, speaking loudly over the roar of the crowd as they celebrated the first few seconds of the new year. 

You turned to look at him, wide-eyed. “Really?” 

“Mhm.”

The vibrant colors played like stained glass over his face. Shades of red and blue danced harmoniously to form a pinkish purple, each new color that came with each new firework launched into the sky adding another layer to the painting on his face. 

You smiled so wide your cheeks began to ache, and you had no idea why. What was there to smile about? Another year in a cruel world, in a place where wealth and power and prestige reigned over all else? Whatever was beyond that wasn’t much better, you would know. You’d seen the world out there, too. You’d lived in it, done things you wished you hadn’t, seen things that still haunted your dreams and replayed in your mind every time you had to face the quiet of your life all on your own. 

But Daryl made you smile. Just feeling him beside you, knowing he thought that anyone could start over. Maybe you could, too. 

You were both lost in the air between you, heavy with anticipation and excitement. You were smiling, and he smiled, too, happy to have finally known why New Year’s Eve was such a joyous occasion, for once in his life. It never meant anything before, but now it did. He couldn’t explain it, it just did. Something good was going to happen this year, he could feel it. 

“All right, all right,” Carol’s laughing voice called out over the celebration. “Let’s sing!”

You panicked for a moment, looking between Daryl and the paper you still shakily held in your hands. “Do you have one?” you asked. 

His eyes widened, and he realized that Carol hadn’t given him a sheet of paper. Now, Carol was known for her meddling, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if maybe, just maybe, she’d purposefully given Daryl just one paper, so you and he would have no choice but to share it. 

“Uh, nah.”

You sidestepped awkwardly, clearing your throat as your shoulder touched his. You held the lyrics out before the both of you, and he caught a whiff of your perfume. Floral and woody notes combined to drown him in a momentary lapse of bliss. He hadn’t even noticed the singing had begun, and your voice triumphed over the rest. 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot? 

And never brought to mind?

He followed your finger as you guided him along the words, your laugh rolling under your singing voice, as you found his confusion quite amusing. 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

And the days of auld lang syne?

Voices clashed as he attempted to sing, quietly and with hardly any idea of how he was to match the melody. You could hear his voice, despite how quiet he was. Again, to you it was the loudest thing, only competing with the fireworks. 

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

Still, he tried to concentrate, while you knew the words by heart, so you could take the opportunity to glimpse over at the clueless man, clumsily trying to get the words right, and stumbling over them with his endearingly off-key singing.

We'll drink a cup of kindness yet

For the sake of auld lang syne

Between the spaces of people crammed into the tiny apartment, there was a sense of hope. It was small, and uncertain, but it was hopeful, nevertheless. Whatever the new year would bring, it would be a chance to start over, to think fondly of the past while welcoming the future. 

In that moment, you felt at peace, and happier than you’d been in a very long time. When the night was over, you knew that it wasn’t really over. It was just the beginning. 

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Masterlist

[souryogurt64]

I loved your essay on the rise and fall of patd, so I'd give my left arm for you to psychoanalyze brendon urie

I don't actually think Brendon is a monster, I think there is something really wrong with Panic! as an entity, and I think Brendon being the singer and also his personality resulted in him being the last one standing.

As a disclaimer to the above points:

Ryan was also behaving in ways that were pretty bad. I have a lot of sympathy for Ryan because he was so young and his home situation was so terrible, but he was cheating on his girlfriend, neglecting his dog, hanging out with really questionable people, et cetera.

Similarly, I do not think Dallon is a hero or a victim. I'm not going to go too far into this but I think it's clear to me that, while I have more sympathy for Dallon, whatever was going on there seemed to be all of them addicted to drama. But then again, aren't we all.

Anyway, here we go.

Brendon seems to have issues playing well with others. After they wrote Fever, he claimed he did 100% of Brent's share. On Pretty Odd, he wanted to write lyrics but didn't think Ryan should sing. He said for vices they "Didn't have any ideas from Ryan or Jon sitting around" but Ryan is credited on Nearly Witches. He says Spencer didn't do anything for Too Weird. He says Panic's videographer stole $120k from him. I would believe Brendon is in the right on some of it, but not all of it.

I also think Brendon is someone who cannot stop trying to get a reaction out of people, which is part of why he's famous. I'm not naive and I know a lot of band guys probably laugh at un-PC jokes in private, but Brendon seems to completely lack awareness about there being a time and a place. Eg, it was not enough for Brendon and Zack to laugh at a photo of an overweight fan to themselves. They just ABSOLUTELY HAD to post her photo on social media for 1.2 million people to see. Et cetera. Every time someone made an offensive joke, Brendon had to turn on Periscope and beg them to repeat it because it was just sooo funnnyyyy.

Anyway, Brendon was on social media trying to get reactions out of people way too much. He was constantly posting vines, Tweeting, posting on Instagram, and constantly livestreaming and responding to everything people asked him about every political issue. I feel like he just loves attention, which is fine when you're famous, but he can't just post gym selfies and smugly read thirst comments. He has to broadcast himself talking about "the liberals" and "cancel culture" to a bunch of obsessive teens so he can see them react in real time. He does stuff like call Fiona Apple a bitch in public and it's like. Just stop. Like I know you think you're being funny but it's just not a good idea.

I'm losing steam here but Anyway in close I just think Brendon can't get along well with other people, loves being the center of attention, wants to give incredibly detailed accounts of his opinion on everything, and loves getting a reaction out of people. Combining this with a situation like Panic where there were other factors that led to Brendon being the only one, it just became easy for him to surround himself with yes-men and no one told him to Just Stop and so he Kept Going until he literally couldn't anymore.

[pynkhues]

Hey! I just want to say I’m so sorry that I probably just spammed your notifications, I just discovered your succession metas and have been reading and obsessing over them. I LOVE your perspective on this show, I’m kenstewy fic-writing at the moment and your metas have definitely given me new ideas.

I would love to know your opinion about Kendall and his speech/potential speech impediments? The bathroom scene in 1x10 with Logan and Kendall seems to be the most obvious incidence of Kendall having a stammer - could it be trauma related, autism related etc?

Hey! You never have to apologise for spamming my notifications! It’s always fun to see someone going through my old posts, haha – especially because it usually reminds me of theories I’d had or connections I’d made in the past.

And yes! I’m always interested in the way the show approaches all of the various behaviours of the characters, and Kendall’s stammer is pretty interesting to me because characters on the show have never explicitly weaponised it in the way that they have with Kendall deliberately avoiding eye contact or his kneejerk discomfort to physical contact. Roman’s imitated him before, but when he does, he tends to focus on Kendall’s vocal disfluencies (or his tendency to uh a lot) as opposed to his stammer (which sure, is a fluency disorder in itself, but I do find it interesting that it’s not something specifically targeted by Logan, Shiv or Roman given their tendency to weaponise - - well. Everything).

It's especially interesting in the sense that it’s such an obvious thing to be a capital-I issue on the show. An audible imperfection to the ears of the characters around him and the world he exists in, and yet it’s less likely to be an issue than his fumbled negotiation tactics or his refusal to look his sister in the eye when they’re talking, and honestly, I think that comes down to the fact that it’s gone when he’s ‘on’.

This is a slight tangent, but your ask made me think about Megan Washington, who’s a singer-songwriter from my hometown who I really love. She did a TED talk almost ten years (!) ago about her stammer, and it’s one that really stuck with me as a fan of hers. In it, she mentions how singing was a big part of her speech therapy as a child, because it’s almost impossible to stutter as you sing. The exact reasons for that are unknown, but studies do indicate that singing uses a different part of your brain to language, and it’s a part of why music is used a lot in speech therapy.

On top of that, she talks a bit about how she was taught to utilise a speech technique called smooth speech which she doesn’t like to use outside of interviews, where she says the “economy of airtime is paramount” because it doesn’t sound like her, but it helps her get through it, and it helps her to perform, helps her to get to the bit where she sings, which in turn is when she feels the most like herself.

Not to apply Megan’s real story to a fictional character, but I do wonder how much Kendall’s been taught to perform his speech, because – especially after the last episode – I think it’s apparent that he’s at his most eloquent and fluid when he is performing. Hell, he likes performing, which can sometimes feel at odds with his awkwardness and his tendency to not seem remotely comfortable in his own skin, but I do wonder if a part of that comes down to – as in Megan’s case – feeling more like himself on a stage because he’s been taught techniques to communicate a version of himself when he’s up there.

When Kendall stammers, or has moments of vocal disfluency, it does tend to be with his family, and it does tend to be under moments of stress. Whether that’s provoked by his anxiousness around his father, or whether he drops techniques he doesn’t feel the need to use around his siblings and just speaks as himself, or whether it’s a combination of both those things (which I suspect it is), we could debate all night, haha, just as we could debate whether there’s an underlying cause for it (which I go on and off actually – a speech disorder can just be a speech disorder, although it does often co-exist with other diagnoses such as autism and ADHD and, interestingly, drug-use triggered issues).

I do think though that it’s probably something Kendall’s had since he was a child, and that he likely saw someone about it and underwent therapy for it, and given how he engages and really does utilise music to communicate throughout the series, I can really see that being a sort of anchor for him in terms of all of that? I don’t know though! This is quite a bit of speculation, haha.

What do you guys think?

[shadowqueen402]

Her Lullaby

(This is the sequel to my fic, Reala's Precious Moment. I hope you all like it. Let me know in the comments and/or reblogs what you think.)

The rain outside dripped onto their bedroom window. Aria and Reala were peacefully sleeping in their bed. Aside from the sound of rain and thunder, the atmosphere was pretty quiet. Until another sound woke the married couple up. It was a newborn baby crying.

Their daughter crying, to be exact.

"I wonder what Dahlia could possibly want," Reala muttered, sleepiness in his tone as he started to get up from bed.

"Odds are, she's either hungry, needs her nappie changed, or the thunder scares her," Aria replied back with a mutter. "After all, it did start thundering since the evening…" She started to try and get up from bed, but Reala placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Do go back to sleep, love," Reala insisted. "I'll see what our daughter needs." Aria simply nodded as she laid back down and pulled the covers over her before shutting her eyes. Reala left the room and made his way to the nursery where Dahlia's cries came from.

"Alright, Dahlia, Papa's here." Reala entered into the pink and white nursery, turned on the lamp, and approached the crib that had Dahlia laying inside, sobbing her eyes out. He gently scooped up his two day old infant daughter. A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder came suddenly, causing Dahlia to continue crying. This made Reala realize what was wrong.

Reala carefully sat in the white chair, Dahlia snug in his arms, and he slowly rocked her. "It's alright, my little princess," He softly told her. "I know that thunder can be scary. These things happen from time to time. But worry not, you are safe inside."

Dahlia's cries seemed to calm down a bit. They were now soft, meaning Reala's consoling was working. Then, an idea popped up in Reala's mind. He remembered, back when Aria was pregnant, how she had told him that babies loved lullabies.

He cleared his throat and began to softly sing a lullaby to Dahlia. One that would definitely help Dahlia go back to sleep:

"The stars are shining bright

And I wonder what they're seeing

Can they see me watching them?

Stars come out at night

I wonder if they're ever sleeping?

I wonder if they're ever dreaming?

How do you sleep at night

If you can never turn off your light

How do you sleep at night if you're a star?

The Earth is beautiful at night

Fireflies are dancing

Listen to the crickets sing

Fireworks ignite

Exploding in a rainbow

Making all the trees glow

How do you sleep at night

With all the magical things in sight

How do you sleep at night if you're a star?

We need stars to show us the way home

And help us to see in the dark

If you're feeling lonely just look up high

They're with you wherever you are

It's time to say goodnight

But the stars are busy listening

Cause everybody's wishing

I wish I may, I wish I might

That the stars will know I'm grateful

They're so very faithful

Thank you for all your light

And making the world so bright

How do you sleep at night if you're a star?"

After he had finished singing, he saw that Dahlia had fallen asleep in his arms, no longer bothered by the loud thunder that was heard outside. With a soft smile, Reala slowly stood up from the chair and quietly placed Dahlia back into her crib. "Dream on, my little princess," He softly said to her. "I will see you in the morning."

Reala then made his way back to the door, turned off the lamp, and left the nursery. Then he made his way back to his shared room with Aria, climbed back into bed, and went back to sleep. However, he was unaware that Aria was smiling in her sleep after hearing her husband sing that lullaby.

(The picture above was from Pinterest. The lyrics are from the song If You're A Star by Amy Lee, the lead singer of Evanescence. Link to song is here: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EEeMUlj_SDo)

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 28 January 1954

Already nearing the end of January, and we are seeing two songs, one familiar, one fresh but... interesting, to say the least.

Oh! My Papa - Eddie Fisher (peaked at No. 9)

It's this song again! Truly an unlikely hit, but at least this time we have lyrics? It's a very sentimental treatment of the originally-German track, all about (what else) the singer's papa.

There is still some Eddie Calvert-style trumpeting, but it's restricted to these little flourishes inbetween verses and chorus, which is a bit sad, since they're some of the best bits of the track! Annoyingly, there's also an absolutely fantastic trumpet introduction that got me way too excited for what then turned out to be a fairly average track.

But yes, I can't say much good about the actual songwriting. It's pretty run-of-the-mill stuff, all about how Eddie's dad was great, and he misses him. It's eulogistic, but bland, and lacks the kind of specific detail that would actually make me feel emotional about it all.

The musical backing seems to know that it's propping up lacklustre material, because it also just plods along gamely, with a plucky bassline, some vague, frilly strings, and, later on, some unnecessary but thankfully unobtrusive backing singers.

It's so different to Eddie's version that I actually wondered halfway through the first time whether it was actually the same song, but I think that's more because of the extreme blandness of this version, and not because either version is actually particularly radical.

I wasn't a raving fan of Eddie's version, but this version makes me appreciate it a bit more, because the bits of this I liked - the trumpet and some moments where the tune really soars - are all things that both versions had in common.

The public clearly agreed, since this version only readed Number 9. I don't know if that's because it's worse, though, or just because it's American, and thus wouldn't have been as easy to get ahold of. It's certainly a bit glossier than Eddie's version, as many of these American versions seem to be, and its been made a lot more palatable (and in this case bland). This includes Anglicising the title from the rather German Oh Mein Papa, which... fair enough, I can get behind that, especially once there are non-German lyrics.

The Happy Wanderer - Obernkirchen Children's Choir (2)

And then, just as I think the charts might be getting boring: this. To which I can only say... heh?! How did this song happen? And more importantly, why did this song happen?

I'm genuinely baffled. It's a song with a long and improbable history, going back to a guy called Florenz Friedrich Sigismund in the 1840s, who was writing poetry right in the middle of a not-actually-very-unified vaguely-patriotic movement retroactively called the Reformbewegung, whcih included the Wandervögel, who were all about walking and enjoying nature and getting away from the cities.

These kind of interlocking subcultures are one of my favourite historical corners, because they have links to all sorts of later movements as diverse as the New Age movement, Scouting, ecological campaigners, Nazis, modern pagans, heritage preservation people and also, like, nudists. But that's another post for another blog.

Either way, the poem apparently became popular, but it's only 1949 that it got this tune - even though it seems like a super traditional walking song! A guy called Friedrich-Wilhelm Möller wrote the tune we hear here, and then it got super popular in 1954 when a choir of children (many of them war orphans) from Oberkirchen in Lower Saxony, northern Germany, came to Wales to sing at the Llangollen International Musical Eisteddfod, and apparently this was the song that captured the British public's attention?

It all just seems gloriously odd to me. Like, eisteddfods are such a niche British thing, and not even that well known beyond Wales, and it just seems weird that the British public would a) actually listen in and b) pick up on this song in particular. German sentimental ballads do, to be fair, seem to have had more cultural cachet (either on their own or in translation) than I expected when I started this project. But stil...

Part of what confuses me is that this, even if it wasn't German and old, is a very weird recording. It's got these children singing, but their voices are high and quavery, like Snow White from the Disney film had been recorded and had her voice put through some very strange post-production effect. I can still tell apart most of the lyrics, which is a win, but they're oddly echoey and shimmery-sounding, not at all what you'd expect.

The standout lyrics that you will certianly pick up are the repeated refrain of "Falderi-Faldera", which soar up to stratospheric heights. They're exuberant and nonsensical - think a German "Fa-la-la-la-la" - and they do give the whole thing a jolly sort of effect. Again, it makes me think of the Seven Dwarfs a bit, and the scene where they're all dancing around.

The rest of the lyrics are pretty standard, all about the joy of walking. The first verse explains that this runs in the singer's family: "My father was a wanderer / And it's also in my blood / So I'll merrily walk as long as I can / And wave to you my hat." (translation mine)

We then get a rundown of all of walking's good healthy effects - there's fresh air, it keeps your heart healthy, lets you breathe better, lets your mouth sing - and then all the ways that nature sings along, from the little birds to the little babbling brooks. It's very 1800s.

And then we slow down and get a bit more stately for the final verse, as the singer explains that "So I carry my knapsack and my stick / Out into the wide world / And until I lie in the cool, cool grave / A merry wanderer I shall be" (it scans in German, I just couldn't be bothered translating meter!) I like it, actually. Genuinely.

So, we get two German songs, and while one was a much safer option, I think in this case the British public and I are in accord. The Obernkirchen children's choir is just a more interesting prospect. There's also something kind of sweet about it all. I've listened to it while writing this post more times than is probably wise, and I've still not got sick of it. Plus, as a bonus, I really enjoyed diving in the weird, tangled history of the thing. True, I have a degree in this specific kind of stuff, so I may be biased. But I think it's genuinely quite cool? I don't know, don't sue me.

Favourite song of the bunch: The Happy Wanderer

[dontexpecttomakesense]

I posted 2193 times in 2021

87 posts created (4%)

2106 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 24.2 posts.

I added 69 tags in 2021

#beastars - 21 posts

#bloodborne - 14 posts

#adastra - 5 posts

#adastra vn - 5 posts

#odd taxi - 4 posts

#neferu adastra - 4 posts

#amicus adastra - 4 posts

#neferu - 4 posts

#amicus - 4 posts

#genlock - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#does he think carnivores should renounce meat or does he believe there is a way for meat consumption to coexist with society?

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

If Jimmy Woo ever enters the Hex, his sitcom persona better be a stage magician called The Great Woodini.

91 notes • Posted 2021-02-20 19:30:50 GMT

#4

Ok so I just learned of an oddtaxi theory that says that the whole anthropomorphic animal's aspect of the anime is in fact an hallucination, since everything is seen primarily through the protagonist's lens and he's been confirmed to suffer some sort of medical condition for which he might not be properly medicated.

And it's not like is one of these wild speculation theories there is evidence in the anime that points towards this:

- Nobody refers to each other by their species or animals. No one ever says "that cat", "that dog" or "that [animal]", etc. The only who has ever done this is odokawa himself and the people who he has referred to as a specific animal had a suspicious reaction, as if they were weirded out or decided to follow his "joke".

- Odokawa had a flashback to an accident that he had when he was a child, but the two shapes that in the flashback look vaguely human, lacking any sort of animal traits.

- Odokawa seems to easily recognise people, and even seems surprised that people can't recognise others just as well. If you ascribe to this theory, it could be because he sees each individual with a vividly different appearance, facilitating recognition. On the opposite side people on the anime at one point manage to confuse two characters that are presented as two very different animals, which would be less strange that it happened if they aren't animals.

- In the official music video for the OP song, the singers are humans all throughout except on the moment that Odokawa looks at them through the rear view mirror, where they appear as anthropomorphic animals.

- There seem to be non-anthropomorphic animals, some seem to be birds, which could be argued that didn't "evolve" as there are no bird character that we know of (no reptiles or amphibians either), but there is a hint that there are non anthropomorphic cats too (though that happens in the opening and it's hinted that it might be more symbolic to the myth arc of the season than anything else).

All in all the problem that I have with this theory is that it serves little purpose beyond stating that Odokawa is an unreliable narrator. Shifting the artstyle mid anime could end up pretty being pretty jarring, and drive many away from it. Not to mention that everything seems to be designed for the antro aesthetic, it would make little sense to suddenly have to change proportions as well as character designs.

118 notes • Posted 2021-05-18 19:49:29 GMT

#3

If you watch the entire show as a whole, you realize that the only reason Sakura got away with murder is not because she’s super smart or anything (she’s smart enough to be a keen opportunist, but all her plans lack foreshight, like, come on, she went to the murder scene on taxi), but because she’s so massively lucky the universe basically conspired to keep her beneath notice.

Leaving asside the fact that she just so happens to be incredibly similar to Yuki, enough that she could pass for her if she concealed her face, we have that:

1. Rui asked Yuki to meet at the office late at night to discus something alone, giving her the perfect window to kill her.

2. Yamamoto being so desperate to make Mystery Kiss work that he decided to cover up the murder with the help of the yakuza rather than calling the police.

3. Yuki’s father having ties to the yakuza. Which is used by Yamamoto to call of the search, but also causes the yakuza to issue an investigation of their own, leading to Odokawa’s dash-cam fotage not arriving to the police.

4. Dobu setting Shirakawa as the honey pot for Odokawa causes him to rush to get to one of their dates, setting off Tanaka’s homicidal mania. Then meeting him when he asks to put a tracker on the one guy who is a loose end in her scheme.

5. Rui being so consumed by guilt that she confesses her involvement with Yuki’s disaparence, setting her as the main suspect instead of her.

The only thing agaist her is that Odokawa eventually recognises her, and it’s implied that he wants to tell the police, but with Rui as the prime suspect, all efforts would provably go to prove that she’s the murderer rather that some random girl who “just happened” to be arround in a taxi, on the night of the murder.

126 notes • Posted 2021-07-02 19:59:05 GMT

#2

The Odd Taxi finale really went and said "fuck it, unfurries your characters"

211 notes • Posted 2021-06-28 19:44:16 GMT

#1

Hurrr durr OZZIE’S is not a place for sentimentality and cutesy stuff

Bitch please

2058 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 21:37:50 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[zhuzhudushu]

do you happen to know how to translate english names to chinese without it just being the phonetic spelling? a native mandarin speaker brought it up to me and now i'm wondering if it would seem more natural or if i should stick with phonetic

I'm assuming by phonetic spelling you mean translating English names to the closest Chinese equivalent with pronunciation? Like my name: Julia > 朱莉娅 (zhuliya)

I've talked about names A Lot™ with my Chinese friends because I often felt that way too, that this name was.. obviously not a native Chinese name lol So sorry ahead of time, this will be a long answer!!! I LOVE NAMES

Why I've stuck with a phonetic name: All my Chinese friends said the same thing: that my name isn't super unnatural, and that I shouldn't change it because they like it and immediately think of me whenever they see it because it's distinct.

((Of course some names are probably way more unnatural than mine, too, and I'm lucky that my English name converts well to many languages lol))

I tried letting new friends on Tandem/HelloTalk pick a name for me to see what they came up with (keeping 朱, because I'm attached to it) and tbh they were pretty, and probably more normal sounding, but none of them resonated with me. I've just associated myself with "red grass girl" 🤣🤣

I feel like there's nothing wrong with converting names to the closest phonetic equivalent!! My closest friends in China and Taiwan agree.

Side tangent #1

Once someone recommended switching to 丽 (li), but then another friend told me that one was too overused. Someone recommended 立 (I think?? If not, it was another character with this radical) once too, and a guy told me it gave off vibes of independence, but 2 girls told me it was way too masculine for a girl's name. Essentially, just because one Chinese person maybe said your name was too unnatural does not mean all Chinese people feel this way. In my experience you can ask 5 Chinese people about a name and you will get 5 different answers for whether it's masc/fem, what it's associated with, whether it's common, or whether it sounds foreign. One of my friends has even met a native Chinese 朱莉娅 before, with the same characters I use!

Side tangent #2

What about the reverse, what do we think of foreigners who have English names vs. foreign names? Obviously Xiran Jay Zhao is Chinese by their name and did not pick an English name, and I think this works!! Though I do see most foreign Chinese people pick names like John, Edward, Caroline... And what do we think when we see "Edward Pan"? (潘雲安, the singer for 告五人 btw) Some of us might think "lol why did they pick that name, that's obviously not their real name." And what do we think when they pick old-fashioned names like Eunice? (Yes, I've met one) If we pick an overtly standard Chinese name, will they think similarly? But then, if we have something that's completely non-standard, what will they think of that?? They might say "oh a foreigner" but... is that such a bad thing? It's tricky!

IN CONCLUSION (and to actually answer your question... 😅)

If your name doesn't convert well phonetically, or you think the phonetic translation is too odd, (or maybe you hate your English name lmao) here's what I'd recommend for finding alternatives:

Try picking a surname character (click for a list) that sounds similar to your English name, then pick a "normal" given name! Or vice versa, use a common Chinese surname and pick a given name that has the same initial consonant/syllable as your English name but is still "normal" sounding.

Here's some resources for picking characters:

Behindthename - pretty accurate from my experience!

Everyday Chinese - good video with a PDF below of 100 common characters used in boy/girl names

My Name is Andong - I like his suggestions a lot!

Shuoshuo - She's adorable and has good advice

Shuoshuo again - Here she critiques her students' names!

(You're also more than welcome to join my discord channel, where we have a whole section dedicated to discussing names!)

HelloTalk & Tandem are great places to bounce ideas off natives. They've been super friendly and open to picking names based on the meaning of my name, pronunciation of my name, or based on characters used in classic poetry or more hip characters.

If you pick a name on your own, run it by multiple native speakers. You never know if you might've picked a homonym for an insult or a rare idiom with a negative meaning!!!

Also something else to consider: what your friends actually call you. Do my closest friends calls me 朱莉娅？ LOL NO I'm 朱朱 and 朱老师(lolz) And this is super cute, and a super normal nickname to be called in China. Literally there are a million 朱朱's lol

So maybe instead of worrying about "does it sound foreign" altogether, find one character (I'd suggest a surname or the first character of a given name) that you feel you can associate with yourself phonetically/visually/meaning-wise and then go by that in the double-repeat format of Chinese nicknames. I've been much happier since I started using 朱朱 on most platforms~~

Because I can't stop rambling, see some real life examples below:

杰里德 (Jared) youtuber who uses a phonetic name and he's very popular both here and on the Chinese version of youtube, even his Chinese girlfriend calls him 杰里德 and no one seems to care. And because it's distinct and "foreign" you can mention 杰里德 to Chinese person and they're like "the Canadian guy???" lol

Blondie in China (艾米饭) her real name is Amy, seems to have a fun but nonstandard Chinese name but she never uses it in her youtube videos so idk how people react to it!

毛毛虫 (Anastasia Koss) youtuber who complains sometimes that she gets weird comments about her name... which, she did name herself a bug, so that's not normal by Chinese name standards, but I wonder if she had picked something closer to her english name, would she get comments like that?

丹娜 (Danai) youtuber who seems to have gone with a direct phonetic translation, and tbh I think this is really cute!!

小马 (Arieh) youtuber who also has a weird name imo, since it's literally "pony" lol But tbh I don't watch him bc he bothers me so idk how people react to his name

There are also lots of phonetically-translated names for famous people and Chinese people don't seem to care??? Examples: Anne Hathaway (安妮 海瑟薇, ani haisewei), Obama (奥巴马, aobama), Romeo & Juliet (罗密欧/朱丽叶, luomiou/zhuliye)

Also for fun, here are some of my Chinese friends and their English names that I think are pretty good translations because they're partially phonetic~

佳琪 (jiaqi) > Jackie

培妤 (peiyu) > Penny

刘潇璇 (liuxiaoxuan) > Lexi

[binniesthighs]

coax the cold | reader x chan

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: smut, lil bit of fluff 

Tags: softsub!chan, softdom!reader, virgin!chan, shyyyy!chan, lowkey awkward chan hehe, tinder hookup au, college au (very US college haha--or at least how I know it), guided sex, cowgirl, reader has nipple piercings sooo nipple play (my new kink) , hair pulling, use of petnames, praising, protected sex, fingering (f), someone’s impatient ;) 

Word count: 4.2k 

Recommended listening: bite by troye sivan 

*photocreds to OP! 

[02:05] 

you are messaging: chan 

me: i’m here by the bike locks? is this the right place? i don’t see a door anywhere? 

Buzzing above your head, a streetlight flickered from the erratic flying of moths to the addictive yellow glow. You were never really a squeamish person, but when it came to moths, there was only so much that you could take in the uncomfortable silence of the parking lot. 

A group of girls with their cropped shorts and bralettes came barreling out from a pair of doors farther down the building with music screeching from the phone speakers shoved in their tiny pockets. 

“You’ve got the addy right? You didn’t hear anything about it getting shut down? Becs was telling me that they were doing ratios so it looks like we can’t bring the guys--” 

You tapped on your phone screen to see if you had received a reply or if the little flame icon would flash while you watched the minutes tick by. 

You had a little shame about the position that you were in, and you started to care less and less after seeing this guy’s pictures. He was somewhat illusive from what you could tell. The way that he texted in all lowercase made him seem approachable but he still wasn’t one ask for pictures of your tits or send the odd drunk text asking for you to come over. 

You had send the message at this hour. It was likely that you were impatient from “playing the game” but he seemed intriguing enough. 

The Friday night was filled with energy from the other side of the street across from the apartment complex. His place was situated right on the edge of campus next to a couple run down houses with windows lit by multicolored string lights and creaking doors which let out vibrating trap songs every time someone opened them. You had left a house similar to that before coming here right when it was getting boring and the boys were getting a bit handsier than you would’ve liked. You were done making out with randoms in hallways who tasted like watery beer and bad decisions. 

“Um, hey!  Are you y/n?” The stranger’s voice called from a fire escape door. 

He was dressed simply, sort of like someone who didn’t care, or someone who hadn’t left their room since the morning. In this lighting, his hair seemed to be some kind of dark burgundy brown which was a bit different from his caramel blonde hair from the photos. You would’ve felt lied to on another occasion, but the simple trait wasn’t a game changer. 

“Uh-yeah, that's me.” You smiled bluntly, not really sure even what to say in a situation like this. 

Up close you saw what the pictures really didn’t give him justice: a faint press of dimples and stretching veins on his hands. You assumed that he was a bit smaller under the giant black hoodie that he wore, but he had that same kind of coziness that was just a little too dangerous for a hookup. 

“I live on the third floor.” He informed you while leading up the hollow sounding cement staircase. 

“Mm. Okay.” 

The stranger turned his head briefly to smile back at you, “I-Its nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” You nodded, even though he didn’t see. 

This young man’s room was nearly exactly as you had pictured it to be element by element. Like every other boy his age, he had a gaming set up with color changing LEDs on the side of his machine and a smaller TV that was hooked up to some console you didn’t care to know the name of. The floors were nearly clean and the bed made--almost like he had planned for it to be that way; you could see the dirty clothes peeping from under his bed. 

The banged up beige walls were decorated with posters of indie bands that you had heard of once or twice. He had somewhat of an organized open closet that held types of CDs and vinyl too--the room itself smelled a bit dusty like the protective covers of those albums that you associated with a record store. 

“You can...we can sit down if you’d like.” He rather awkwardly gestured to his full sized bed. You prayed that once you pulled the covers back later there would be no white stains. 

“Okay.” 

“I could-um, turn on some music maybe? If you would like?” 

“Sure!” You piped trying to sound as confident and in control as possible--it was clear he wasn’t. 

He fidgeted with his phone and a bluetooth speaker which startled him when he turned it on. Just like the posters on his walls, he picked some soft sounding acoustic song with a crooning folk singer that sounded like he was singing with the exclusive use of his head voice. 

The stranger sat next to you clasping his hands in front of him and eyes glued to the floor. 

“Sorry...this is my first time doing this.” 

“Doing...?” 

He smoothed back his dark locks, “You know...meeting up with someone like this after meeting through an app. Um...what do you study?” 

“Biochem with a graphic design minor. You?” 

You weren’t sure if this was a hook up or an interview. 

“Poli Sci Human Rights stuff and sound engineering on the side.” 

“Huh...thats...cool.” 

Both of you nodded your heads in the silence to which he cleared his throat loudly to feel the space. 

“C-can I get you anything? You thirsty or something? I can steal some of my roommate’s Smirnoff Ice--” 

“--No. I’m fine. Thank you though.” 

He smiled sweetly to hid the fact that he was rubbing his sweating hands against his pants. 

“But...how this usually starts off, you could lay down and maybe, I could get on top?” 

“Oh!” He squeaked, “Sure! I can do that.” 

The bed groaned out with the shuffling of bodies and your hookup sighed out with a shaky breath and squirming legs. “Like this?” 

Rather than saying more, you crawled carefully over to him to the tune of his quickening chest and widened eyes. The shier he got, the harder it was for you to keep it in--he was ridiculously cute and your mind could only run wilder thinking about how he would react to everything you were about to show him. Your hands crept to the hem of his hoodie where you teased cold thumbs to his torso. 

“I’m gonna take this off you, okay?” 

Chan nodded eagerly with hair fluffing once you pulled it over his head. 

“Take mine off?” You hushed into his ear to which he smacked dry lips to obey you. 

He took his time pulling it off you; he savored the way that your bare body looked in front of him with glossy eyes that shone with the soft pastel glow from his computer in the opposite corner of his room. His chest heaved with his excitement which only held even more shallow breaths once your top hit the floor. 

“I-I can touch you?” 

“You can touch me anywhere you want to, baby.” You followed his head back to the pillow where you parted his quivering lips with your own. You could feel his shock get caught in his throat, then snake out hotly from his mouth to yours. He kissed you carefully, but growing in greed once you ran the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip. His curious hands wrapped around your back where he rubbed lightly at your sides, then traversed to your chest. You sunk deeper onto him to the tune of the music skipping to the next song which sounded nearly like a chilled out pairing of twangy guitars. As far as you could tell, it sounded something like Grateful Dead. 

As your hips melded into his, Chan’s whole body jerked feeling the sudden contact of your pussy grind against him. As you had expected, he had hardened instantly, and his length bobbed and tented the thick fabric of his sweats. You kissed him deeper, exploring the corners of his mouth and the inside of his lower lip while tugged at the plush skin gently. 

You should have guessed, but this boy didn’t have a clue how to take a bra off, so you did the job for him, sure to give him a display at the same time just for the dramatic effect of your surprise. 

“H-holy shit.” Chan oggled your breasts from below. You were certain that he didn’t notice the way that he slicked his tongue slowly over his lip at the sight of you. 

“You can touch them too.” You purred back into his ear, and he eagerly brought thrilled hands to your nipples. 

“They’re really...um, pretty.” He said with fluttering eyes from your breasts to your eyes. What a gentleman he was being. 

You toyed with your delightfully hardened bud in your hand while he played with the other. You pulled lightly at the sliver stud piercing there to show him that he could do the same and wetted your fingertips with your tongue to bring the wet to your skin. He kneaded at your breast firmly at first, cupping it in his hand, then moved his attention to your sensitive skin aroused just from the softest touches. 

Your tiny moans was all the validation that he needed to squeeze harder and pull rougher. It was as if you could see his cute pent up fantasies unfolding right before you in his sparkling brown eyes. 

“Mm, that feels so good.” You coaxed him further, going to grind you ass harder into his own lap and indulging in the way that even in your shorts, your folds could part around the thick imprint of his dick. 

You collapsed over his face to align your nipples nearest his tongue which he gave no more thought. Chan kissed at them with trailing breathy moans of his own that melted into you and vibrated against the metal made one with your hardened buds. He sucked too with a flicking tongue that sent heat straight down to your clit. Each time his flattened tongue would return with the wet of his spit, you felt weaker and weaker for this boy becoming more tantalizing by the second. 

“Want to--want to take off even more?” The phrase barely escaped your lips. 

“Mmhm.” He agreed, then took to shimming off his pants quickly and watching you do the same, revealing your sky blue panties that always soaked in the way that you liked them to. 

Your show continued on, and you took two of our fingers to rub over your clit while facing him. He too had wetted a spot into his boxers that adorably bunched around the upper parts of his thighs. With your free hand, you slithered to his erection and traced the outline, leaving him on a teasing squeeze. 

“B-before we do anything else...I have to tell you something?” The young man hesitated, causing you to draw your hand back. 

“What is it?” 

“This is like my, first time, first time. You know?” 

“You’ve never--” 

“--I know. It’s...kinda embarassing...and the fact that it’s happening this way...” 

“You don’t want it to happen this way?” 

Chan stammered, but shook his head vehemently, “That's not it. I just don’t want you to be dissapointed...since I don’t really...know what I’m doing too well.” 

He cracked with a hopeful smile, and you couldn’t stand it any more. 

“Babyboy, you’ve got nothing to worry about, I don’t mind.” 

“You don’t?”

“No,” You scooched next to him to twist a couple of his deeply cherry red strands into your fingers, “In fact, the fact that you haven’t done this before...really turns me on. Got it?” 

Chan gulped, “S-so...what-what can I do for you? I’ll do anything?” 

You pressed a light kiss into his forehead with a hand trailing up his thigh and back to his dick which still throbbed with his excitement. 

“How about, you show me how you jerk off this cock of yours, angel? And I can show you how I do the same? For starters?” 

He licked his lips once more, hooking his hands under his waistband and freeing his cock pink, and even thicker than you had imagined. You slid yourself unto his arm to cuddle up close to him, one of your legs swung over his so he could see exactly how you played with your clit. 

He wrapped his hand around his dick with a tug which elicited a tiny “ah!” from his mouth. 

“That’s it...jerk your cute cock for me...just like that.” 

His eyes devoured the circles made by your hand between your legs--you strung together your slick between your fingers to him to see. The clear stringy cum shone on your fingers, making the other boy whimper out seeing how it coated them. 

“I want to touch you too...down there, so bad.” He pleaded after pumping faster at himself. 

“Oh? Pretty boy would like to feel what it’s like to touch my dripping cunt, hm? You know that watching you makes me like this...?” 

Chan gasped out at the thought, letting out an “mmhm.” that cracked in his throat. 

“C-can I?” 

The heat of your naked bodies intermingled and turned the air of his small room dense, and each of your senses became hyper aware in your own arousal: every hair that stood on end, every flinch of his muscles beside you, you could feel it all. 

“Of course you can.” 

Chan shifted, leaving his dripping cock to pulse on your thigh where he flipped on his side to dip his hand between your folds and against your swollen clit. 

“Rub in circles baby, or whatever feels right to you...you’ll know if it feels good for me.”

He nodded with hands trickling down to your pussy heated between your legs. 

There’s something different about him, it could be the fact that you know next to nothing about him, or how he makes you bothered. 

Slowly, his fingers dip between your folds slicked from your teasing--and the way that there mere sight of him teases you. Your back arches from the press of his fingers, and your bud throbs under each and every swipe of his fingers. 

“Feels good?” He whispers into your ear, tickling it. 

“Mm-yes.” With your free hand, you tangle your fingers into his hair to pull right at the roots. You bite a kiss into his lip while drawing him closer to you. His lips are plush and quivering like they can’t decide what to do with all the simulation at once. 

“Harder...you can press harder,” The words were airy on your tongue while your hips writhed. 

“Like this?” He circled harder, wider with his digits mixing with your cum. 

The room appeared to blur in your euphoria. Coupled with the gentle music playing there was a kind of peace to this boy and everything about his little space. The further he continued, the more you longed for him fully--to feel every inch of his length inside of you as you fucked him for the first time. 

Your hand grabbed at his hair even tighter: a symbol that he took as a good sign. He laughed out a little at your response. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He coos. Against your thigh, his dick bobs with a flared tip, begging for more attention. 

You moan out for him as you dig your heels into his bed, and watch the way that your nipples harden around the metal piercings just from his touch. 

“Just you wait baby, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Your kisses pull at his lower lip as you fill his mouth with more moans. “You don’t even know how fucking tight it is, how it feels when I pull you inside of me and how the friction feels when you’ll fuck me.” 

Chan shivers from your words with a gulp and lets his fingers fall down to your entrance where is curiosity gets the best of him. You wince feeling his fingers fill your pussy with the wonderful way that you desperately close around his digits. 

“Shit.”

“Are you ready?” You ask him permission before trailing a hand down his torso. 

“--Yes,” He nods quickly, “Please. God--I want to feel it. Show me.” 

You twitch from the lack of contact to your pussy when you swing your leg to straddle him. Your hips meet his, and he struggles for a moment over where to put his hands. In one motion you grind your dripping folds over his bare dick, slicking him up and down with the light grind of your hips. A broken gasp escapes from his lips which you catch with your own mouth in a kiss. His closed eyes flutter from the feeling of having you so close...but not completely yet. 

“Got a condom, angel?” You caress down his cheek and let your thumb linger over his bottom lip. 

Chan gives you a grunt in response before contorting his body to the side table where he fumbles for the plastic wrapper. His curtains dance a little with a breeze caught in them, likely from the window being open. The air smells a bit like water, and it’s cool and crisp in your lungs. It cools the surging heat that your body succumbs to. 

You move for him to roll the condom on, tracing the muscles of his chest. His skin is untouched, unmarked, and suddenly all you crave is to see him bruised and scraped in pink. You dig your nails into his chest seeing the way he jerks at himself just a bit more while looking up at you in awe. 

“H-how do we do this?” He asks. 

“Just...do as I say...’kay?” 

Your date nods, letting you take complete control over his body. You start at his neck with kisses that turn heavier and heavier then darker and darker. He busies his hands by cupping into your breasts and tweaking with the hardened buds. 

“Just lay still, I can put in the work pup, okay?” You reach for his erection further down his body, and he finds handles in your hips and ass. 

“I can do that.” He sighs out with a little groan feeling your hand squeeze at him. 

At first, you tease your entrance with his head, barely letting him feel anything besides your clit against his pink tip. His skin grows dewy in his anticipation, and he licks at his lips which dry from each breathy exhale he uses to steady himself. You take your cum to wet at his dick with your hand, and push harder at his sides with your thighs. 

“Tell me if you ever want me to stop, got it?” 

Chan hastily nods, digging deeper into your sides. 

“Fuck, just--fuck me already...I can’t...it’s really...hurts to wait--” 

“Getting demanding now are you?” You tap a light slap to his face. “You’re doing what I say, not the other way around.” 

“S-sorry...” He whines. 

You resume, sitting properly on his length: all the way down, all the way to your cervix which screams in ecstasy from feeling him fill you so deeply. 

“Fuck.” He groans, but his curse is intertwined with a beautiful giddy smile. “Its really tight. Oh god--” 

You lean over him to attach your lips with his once more--a tiny distraction from the way that you start to roll your hips over his length. Chan freely lets his moans tickle your lips, each of them more gruff than the last as he looses himself in you and your rhythm. He’s dizzied: lightheaded--even you can tell. The new sensation takes him over, and he’s left a mess for you: hips trembling while you work your pussy up and down his length and his fingers claw into your shoulder blades. 

Chan’s Adam’s apple bounces as he gulps dry, forming praises the best that he can. “Feels...amazing...” 

You sit back, allowing his full length to tease your g-spot as you fuck him rougher, indulging yourself to all the pleasure that he can give you when you let him in as deeply as possible. He notices the change, and supports your body up with hands running up and down your chest, and down your arms where he pulls at the skin with his short nails. 

“You like this?” You gasp between each roll of your hips. “How my cunt feels on your cock? How I can use you like this? Use your words Channie.” 

“Yes. Fuck yes. Yo-You look...mm--” 

You giggle a little at the light pink blush to his cheeks and the way that he stumbles over his words. 

“Think you can last a little longer, baby?” Your fingers creep to his throat where you tease at squeezing his neck.  

He pauses, loosing himself in it again before giving you a rushed answer: “I think? It’s just...really intense I think that I’m c-close already.” 

You permit him only a couple more seconds of you, then glide off him carefully to which he whines out in confusion. 

“Your turn to fuck me now. Come on, behind me.” 

Chan looks bewildered and breathless, but he does as he’s told and tosses aside stray pieces of clothing on the bed to get to you. You hoist up your hips for him after burying your face into the mattress. To guide him further, you fuck your fingers for him too at this angle, only stopping once you feel the pressure of his cock once more. He slides himself in agonizingly slow until he bottom’s out with a choked moan. 

“Fuck me baby boy. You know what do to.” 

Your date’s hand finds your hips once more which he firmly grasps, then begins screwing into your pussy already blazing with heat and your orgasm building from before. He finds his pace after a while and fills the room with the fleshy sound of skin on skin. Your own fingers find their own way back to your clit where you rub in tandem with his thrusts. 

“Oh,” He gasps quietly. 

Your nails bury into the comforter of the bed, and your teeth clench harder as he milks himself into you and grows in pace. 

“Fuck yes baby, fuck me just like that. You’re doing so good; fucking my pussy just like you should...” 

Your orgasm quickens hearing the praises come from the bottom of your heart and the way that he grunts out hearing them. For someone who’s never done this before, it’s unbelievable how good he is at it all. 

He shudders, and you feel yourself tighten around him further, sensing both of your release coming near. Your hookup doubles over your back, burning you with the heat from his body as he fucks into you with reckless thrusts. 

“Shit, I’m so, so close.” He admits though clenched teeth. 

“Me too baby, finish me off, cum inside until you’re throbbing and you can’t take any-anymore.” 

A switches flips within this once innocent man, and you feel the bed creak as he kneels on one leg, then lifts one to stamp upon the bed to better his angle. The new position directly sends your g-spot into flames, and you shake from limb to limb feeling your orgasm right on the brink. 

He growls upon his release, finishing it off with shallow breaths once he nearly collapses over your back to feel each drop of his cum release inside of your pussy. You rub your orgasm out until you see lightning behind your eyelids and it’s heightened by the way that he twitches with his cum against your deepest spot. 

“A-are you okay?” Your adorable date immediately asks once you gasp and writhe under him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine...fuck,” You laugh out, “That felt unreal Channie.” 

He shakes once his softening dick leaves your hole, and you get a good look at this stranger: chest flushed and hair messed over his forehead. He falls down to his side on the bed still breathless and letting out happy little laughs. 

“I’m sorry if that was like, really fast. It just all felt...so good, and, I couldn’t really control it--” 

“Mm, don’t you worry.” You sweep down to kiss his gasping mouth. Silently, you thank whoever it was in the universe that let you meet this boy on this night, and whoever willed you to leave that party. 

“What do we do now?” Chan asks, still bare for you to take in wholly. You wanted to tell him, but couldn’t find the words. He was kind of beautiful. 

“Whatever we want. I could go, or I could stay. Really anything goes.” 

His chest is peppered with your purple love bites, and you wish then to give him even more if you have the chance--whenever that might be. 

Chan tilts his head, “Stay?” 

“Well, we still need to get to know eachother don’t we?” 

The handsome stranger grins, and lets his hand trace the side of your face. The cool of the room feels addictive against you, and it weaves around your neck and against the little hairs of your arms. 

“You’re right.” He nods, “There's only so much you can tell about a person from these kind of dating apps.” 

“That’s true.” Your hand discovers his collarbones, which you trace lightly. “It’s nothing like the real thing.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes  @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[marymccartneyphotos]

"My earliest memories are split between London and the farm in Scotland. The excitement of city life versus absolute solitude. It was still exciting but in a different way: riding ponies, climbing trees, helping Mum in the kitchen. And the sound of Dad’s guitar. It makes me laugh now, but there were some afternoons when we’d be watching cartoons and Dad would wander over with his guitar. He’d sit down and start playing this beautiful music, messing around with melodies and songs. We’d all give him an evil stare. 'Dad, we’re watching telly. Go in the kitchen.' One time he said: 'Do you know how many people would love to be sitting here now, listening to me play guitar?' I just shrugged. 'But we can’t hear The Wombles.' Being a vegetarian family in the late 1970s marked you out as different. Everybody said it was all Mum’s idea and she’d forced Dad to stop eating meat, but they did it as a team. I remember them discussing recipes and Dad saying he still wanted something he could slice for his Sunday roast. Mum was always excited about cooking and she inspired me. Dad’s pretty good in the kitchen — he’d make a great sous-chef. If you ask him to sort out the mashed potato, it’ll be the best you’ve ever tasted. He’s meticulous, just like he is in the studio. Of course people made fun of Mum and Dad for being veggie. They made fun of Mum for a lot of things, saying she wasn’t a real musician, she wore odd socks and charity-shop jumpers. The real problem was that she didn’t fit the mould of the woman they wanted Paul McCartney to marry. They wanted someone who went to all the chichi parties, but Mum was more interested in feeding the animals on the farm. Mum and Dad insisted we went to the local comprehensive school, which made me feel a bit awkward at the time. I’d be in school for a term, then off on tour. When I came back, all my friends had made new friends. Now, when I look back, I realise what a smart move it was. It kept us grounded. Dad was almost too enthusiastic when it came to helping with homework. On my own I could knock it off in half an hour but Dad would get out the encyclopedia, he’d be cross-referencing and drawing graphs. The teachers must have got suspicious when I gave in these ridiculously detailed essays. Dad said education changed his life and he wanted to pass that love of learning on to us. I look at Dad and think, after all he’s been through, how has he managed to stay in one piece? He has found a way of keeping a level head, no matter what else is happening in his life. My own personal theory — I’ve not talked to Dad about this — is that he needs normality because that’s what inspires him. Real life and real people. That’s where all the music comes from. Every year that goes by I seem to find a new level of admiration for what Dad has achieved — and Mum too. My husband and I have this game where we try to get through a day without coming across a reference to Dad or the Beatles. What usually happens is that I get to around nine o’clock, then something comes on the radio or I see an ad for the new Beatles documentary. I do listen to the Beatles at home, but it’s the Wings stuff I play the most. Mum’s not around any more, but when she’s doing her backing vocals I can still hear her and Dad together. There’s a song called I Am Your Singer — that always gets me. 'When day is done, harmonies will linger on.'” -Mary McCartney (2021)

[tpwkay]

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different. 

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs. 

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms. 

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance. 

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting. 

/// 

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville. 

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry. 

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records. 

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened. 

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace. 

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots. 

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered. 

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?" 

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him. 

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek. 

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway. 

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway. 

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here. 

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself. 

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd. 

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album. 

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time. 

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events. 

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events. 

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance. 

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go." 

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it. 

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up. 

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban. 

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you. 

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night. 

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night. 

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology. 

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end. 

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman. 

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber. 

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again. 

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators. 

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night. 

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life. 

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours. 

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end. 

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert. 

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered. 

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

/// 

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence. 

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

/// 

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met. 

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing. 

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert. 

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily. 

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips. 

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up. 

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door. 

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish. 

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud." 

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it. 

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply. 

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips. 

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you. 

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back. 

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him. 

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?" 

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags. 

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into." 

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love." 

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around. 

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver. 

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior. 

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off. 

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed. 

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss. 

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."  

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait. 

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again. 

/// 

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails. 

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that." 

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance. 

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours. 

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name. 

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers. 

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?" 

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel. 

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?" 

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you. 

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers. 

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases. 

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile. 

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds. 

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you". 

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch. 

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave. 

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording. 

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November. 

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. 

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you. 

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it." 

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words. 

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung. 

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country. 

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again. 

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing. 

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop. 

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock. 

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry. 

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. 

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you. 

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release. 

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps. 

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there. 

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release. 

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need. 

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd. 

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it." 

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget. 

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats. 

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him. 

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance. 

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself. 

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte​ who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

If Bella was a boy (with Bella's gift. And he would be ​Edward's singer). What would change? What do you think?

So, I gave a fairly detailed response to this already. The long and short of it being that, depending if Beauford’s the right kind of guy, he and Edward will essentially end up in a romantic relationship neither realizes is romantic. Then Edward eats Beauford at some point.

But, since we’re here, I suppose we can enter imagination land and get into some more details.

Caveat that I haven’t read Life and Death and have no desire to, so we’re actually ignoring some strange alternate universe canon that never made much sense anyway. Shocking, I know, and very unlike this blog.

Beauford Swan and a Kid More Messed Up Than Even Bella Swan

In order for our love story to even start, Beauford has to be the kind of guy that Edward’s into (or can project that he’s into). Well, we know Edward’s into Carlisle (he projects pretty much an idealized version of Carlisle’s personality onto Bella and actively wants to look like Carlisle as to him Carlisle’s is the face of holy perfection while Edward looks like a demon) and given what he says he likes of Bella’s personality we can extrapolate from there.

Edward’s not going to be into an Emmett or anyone remotely resembling Mike Newton. He’s going to be into a quiet, kind, misunderstood, sensative, intellectual who probably looks some level of frail and in need of protection. Essentially, what he saw in Bella, subverting the Madonna complex he has for her a bit (Beauford will be a kind of Madonna, sort of, but not quite so blatant).

So, we have Beauford, who looks a lot like male!Bella and by that I mean he keeps her pale skin, her big dark eyes, and general look about her that she could break with the slightest contact. Basically, he’s a very pretty guy the likes of which typically comes from a shojou anime. He’s also likely still debilitatingly clumsy.

So, you have this guy who’s awful at sports, as in each time he tries he probably ends up in the ICU. Is an intellectual in that he reads old books, an odd amount of Jane Austen at that, but isn’t actually an artist or writer. In fact, other than reading, he has no real hobbies. Has a larger than life mother who constantly needs looking after. And has nothing in common with his peers.

As bad as Bella had it, I posit Beauford would have had it worse. He’s not going to get along with 90% of boys until... probably college. He’s always picked last in kickball, shares 0 interests with most other boys, and is probably ruthlessly bullied for all of this and more. Worse, being so pretty, he’s going to attract a lot of romantic attention, especially from preteen girls who are very into that look and Beauford’s sensitive artistic nature. This is going to get him so much shit from other guys.

Add on top of this Bella’s original difficulty socializing and I imagine Beauford is just as depressed if not more so.

Fast Forward to Forks

Beauford comes to Forks for a similar reasons to Bella, because he felt like a third-wheel in Renee and Phil’s relationship and that his mother was better off without him. I can also see him just not knowing how to act around Phil, who probably expects a stepson who’s more... sonnish. Beauford’s not going to play catch with dad in the yard and I can see Beauford wanting to avoid all of that entirely.

He enters Forks and has a vaguely similarish reception to Bella. Only, there are some key differences.

I imagine Mike, Tylor, and Eric quickly sour on Beauford as he goes from being potentially cool new bro to a guy that can pick up every girl in this school. He’s like the Cullens, but less incestuous and creepy and therefore a thousand times worse. They desperately don’t want Beauford sitting at their lunch table where he can potentially pick up all the babes. 

In other words, Mike is the new Lauren, and Beauford knows it. But it’s either eat with these guys or eat in the bathroom, and Beauford’s not at that level of desperation yet.

Jessica’s probably into him, having been into Edward (another pretty, sensitive, guy), but unlike Bella I imagine Beauford has a little better social intelligence in that he has seen this game before and he knows where it leads. So, he desperately, actively, doesn’t flirt with anyone. Which makes him a terrible conversationalist, and he just comes off as really weird.

Beauford, therefore, actually is a Cullen 2.0. You don’t want to be a Cullen 2.0 (Bella is the only one in that school who thinks the Cullens were in any way popular).

I imagine Edward notices this, plus Jessica’s interest, and gives a Nelson laugh from across the room. Now someone else can have the joys of Jessica Stanley’s lust. Though he does notice he can’t read Beauford’s thoughts, which is strange.

Like Bella, Edward undoubtedly thinks Beauford is at first highly overrated, just like all the other mindless teenagers in Forks, and rather plain (from his narration, Edward likes blondes and lighter eyes). 

The Rest

Biology happens, it’s a disaster, Beauford has no idea what he did to get Edward to loathe him so much but this time Mike isn’t in any way sympathetic. Instead, Mike just can’t believe he and Cullen seem to agree on something for once.

Edward flees to Alaska, decides he won’t lose to Hamburger, and comes back to do damage control. And we start mirroring canon a lot here. Edward has varying conversations with Beauford, is intoxicated by his very scent, and starts projecting an almost saint like personality onto him. Edward grows increasingly obsessed, starts creeping into Beauford’s room at night to protect him from spiders, etc.

The difference being that Edward is utterly convinced that what he and Beauford share is the highest platonic ideal of friendship. They are platonic soulmates, all other friendships pale in comparison to them, they are intellectual peers and artists.

This is even when they still go to the meadow, Edward kidnaps Beauford in Port Angeles for Italian dinner (despite Beaufrod not having been nearly raped without Edward’s intervention), Beauford is invited to the Cullen house, and more.

Beauford, being Bella levels of oblivious, also has no idea this is a romantic relationship. Likely, what he feels at first and is driven by is a strong sense of kinship with Edward. As Edward is also an intellectual outsider hated by the male half of the school. Beauford’s been there, bro. 

However, like Bella with Alice, he appreciates small details of Edward’s vampiric physical appearance, enjoys staring at Edward’s perfect face, and really digs that vampire smell.

I imagine, beyond what happened in Twilight things like the following occur: Edward constantly sketches Beauford in unintentionally (but secretly intentional) erotic positions with no clothes (this is art!), Edward leers at Beauford changing in his bedroom because “we’re both men”, Edward insists on discussing Beauford’s future bride with Beauford and imagines the most perfect woman in the world while also imagining smashing her head in like a melon.

But I imagine most of the Twilight plot points happen. The difference being that everyone is very confused on why these two can’t admit they’re dating. Rosalie probably bringing up very valid points of “Edward, if you want this guy to go date someone else then you can’t monopolize his life” and Edward telling her to stop being so petty and jealous of Beauford’s beauty. Aro, I imagine, just dies in New Moon and has no idea what to say when Beauford returns from the dead because it’s not, “Oh look, the lovers reunited! Ah, right, I forgot, they’re just friends. Yes...” 

The other difference being, as I strongly suspect that without Renesmee Edward would never have turned Bella (Renesmee really forces that issue as Bella actually dies before Edward turns her), that he would have eventually eaten Beauford as Alice predicted.

But he’d be so delicious.

[sp00kworm]

SIREN (AMMB): Zadok’s Ending

Chapter 1: Meeting the Band

Pairing: Deep Sea Merman (Zadok) x Gender Neutral Reader

Adult Content below the cut. Dom Reader and collar use.

---

---

A lithe looking figure was draped in oversized clothing. Loose cuffed cargo trousers were covered in chains and topped with a large hoodie and a coat which made your own look positively thin. You frowned before you caught sight of the pale, micro-scaled skin underneath. The white scales shimmered with pearlescence as Zadok glanced around behind himself and touched the water pumps attached to his neck, which were then coupled to a small tank fastened like a backpack to him. There was a sense of worry in his posture as he reached for his wallet to order.

“A chai tea please. And an anchovy sandwich to go.” He ordered quietly as the barista noted it down and carefully took his money, trying to avoid staring to badly at the suction cups and tank attached to him. Zadok ignored her look and stood to the side, pulling his hood further over his fins to avoid any more unwanted attention from the customers and staff. It was weird seeing the confident lead singer to upset and shy about being seen in public. Your staring, however, got you caught firmly in the act. With a rush you turned back to your phone, and pretended not to be looking as his white eyes caught you. A huff sounded but he didn’t move to come and say anything. He turned back to the counter and opened his phone, clawed webbed fingers typing across the keyboard.

 Sadly, and awkwardly, you turned back to your table and waited for your food, trying to put Zadok out of you mind. He didn’t owe you anything after all, you were just a fan of the band. The barista was quick to make his drink before she packaged and wrapped his sandwich for him in the red and white plaid paper.

“Thank you.” He rumbled as he took the food and paper cup, “Have a nice day.” Zadok’s webbed fingers adjusted the wrapped sandwich before he tucked it into his satchel and placed his wallet firmly back inside. The singer reached upwards, his pale skin flashing with purple light, to adjust the cups over his gills. They didn’t budge, and so he walked away from the line, his hood up and his head ducked as he headed towards the door, leaving with a soft ring of the bell. You ducked over your food as he turned to walk left, past the glass window you were sat next to. He stopped just outside of the door and pulled something out of his pocket as he sipped at the tea in his hand. You realised it was his phone and as he raised it closer to his eyes you ducked back down to avoid being seen, sipping your own drink before your phone vibrated on the table again.

 Thinking it was just another text from Tom, you opened the screen with a disappointed sigh, upset that Zadok had ignored you. The screen lit up again and you clicked your tongue at the incessant buzzing. A message, but not from an account that you knew, nor did you follow them. It was a picture of a figure huddled by a cliff as the profile icon, decked in all black and shielding themselves from the wind. The water looked choppy and you saw the faintest hint of waves in the background. With a confused look, you opened the message.

‘Sorry for ignoring you.’

The second message was not twenty seconds after the first.

‘This is Zadok by the way. Don’t start gawking out of the window at me please.’

Slightly rude, you thought as you looked closer at the obscure profile icon, wondering just how the weird, huddled mass of black could be the singer. Your phone buzzed again before you could give it much thought.

‘Meet me by the Elf fountain.’

 You looked up from your phone as the Merman tugged his hood a little higher and tucked his hands into his pockets again. You didn’t see him then as he disappeared into the mid-morning crowds beyond your sight. With a rush you finished up your food and took your coffee to go before you made your escape out of the café and into the street. The Elven fountains weren’t too far from the café and you were eager to know just why Zadok had even spoken to you at all. The fountains were fresh water and housed a few species of pond fish, usually Koi kept for decorative appeal in the gardens. A car slammed its horn at you as you dashed across the crossing at the last moment heading towards the park where the fountains were.

 It didn’t take you long to weave your way through the streets and it took even less time for you to manage to find Zadok. He was perched on the edge of the fountain, his feet beneath the cool water. You were sure it wasn’t allowed but none of the busy workers seem to be bothered by the man as he trailed them back and forth. His heavy work boots were shoved by the side of the stone, his socks tucked into each boot. You stood by the gate to the little fountain area for a moment before white eyes turned and found you staring. Zadok pulled a hand free from his pocket to give you a small wave, claws flashing a silvery colour in the light.

“Good morning.” he offered as you approached, his voice soft and calm despite your obvious staring from the gateway.

“Good morning.” You replied, feeling awkward and caught out by his kind greeting, “So…”

Zadok chuckled at you as he pulled his feet up onto the stone, perching his head on top of his knees, “So…” he replied.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked quietly as Zadok brushed water from his webbed feet, avoiding his other filed claws on each of his toes, “You seemed well, pretty gloomy when you walked in.”

 Zadok just watched you for a moment, his ghostly eyes staring at you before his mouth stretched to reveal a wide smile full of thin, sharp teeth, “I tend to look like that when Duncan spends his night crushed against me instead of in his own bed.”

Suddenly, it was like the tension dissipated, like a lightning bolt and smashed right through it. Your tension seemed to evaporate, and you returned his smile, “I can see why that would make you upset.”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe.” he chuckled, “I’m sorry for seeming like an utter creep, but I don’t…well I don’t much like public places. I get recognised and its just never much fun after that.”

“No, I understand, I’m just confused about how you uh…found my socials.” You asked as Zadok’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Ah. I see now.” he lowered his head and awkwardly played with the tops of his shoes, “I found the pictures. It wasn’t too hard to find considering the show was last night.” he confessed, “That’s my private account for family and friends.” Zadok reached for his phone and showed you the screen of his page, “I wanted to talk, if that’s alright with you?”

You stepped closer and sat down on the side of the fountain with the singer, “What do you want to talk about?” You smiled as you sat down, folding your hands in your lap as you tried to get comfortable against the stone.

 “It seems weird now that I think about it.” Zadok confessed as you sat next to him, your drink clutched between your two hands, “I just wanted to thank you for what you said yesterday. It really does mean a lot to have someone feel so strongly about our music.” You watched as he tucked his clawed, webbed hands away in his pockets before looking him in the eyes.

His white eyes were striking, and you struggled to reply immediately, “You don’t have to thank me for being honest. Your music is amazing, just like you’re an amazing singer.”

“It means more than you think.” He insisted as he reached for his own drink, and pushed aside a small plastic bag, “I’ve spoken to a lot of fans, and, trust me, not one of them has spoken like that. Not with such passion about it all.” he laughed softly as he leaned back to take a drink, revealing the water pumps over his gills. He caught you staring, “They’re more to stop me drying out and hacking on everyone. I find I really need them after shows. So much singing hurts my lungs, so I have to revert back a little.”

“I had no idea you had to breathe water too.” You marvelled at the gills again before turning your gaze back to his pale scale-skin face, “Wait…” You held up your hands, “You sing so much it actually hurts?”

“Now don’t worry yourself!” Zadok bumped your shoulder gently, “Its not bad. Just like human singers need rests from growling, I need my own rest and recuperation.” He chuckled again, “But it is much easier to sing with water, but its not something anyone but a Mer can understand well.”

 “Is that why you looked like you enjoyed the beginning solo so much? Because its easier to sing in the water?” You asked, curious and eager to pick Zadok’s brain.

He laughed at you before nodding, his hood sliding to reveal the pointed tip of one of his fins, “I’m surprised you noticed.” he held his drink in his lap, wiggling his wet toes in the cool air, “Its not just that its easier to sing, really…I was born in the ocean, even though my parents have long lived with humans. We still spend our early years in the deep black waters before integrating into society. I’ve always just loved the water. Its always brought me peace. Its like a veil on the audience so I can just be myself.”

“That seems like an odd way to start life, but the more I think about it the more I think it must be nice, to be just you and the water.” You sat back, your palms pressed into the rough stone as you looked at the water, “And I bet it made you an amazing swimmer.”

Zadok paused before laughing again, the noise gentle and soothing, like the sound of water in a stream full of pebbles, “It did make me a good swimmer, yes, but it also taught me a lot about our culture. It made me who I am.” he looked at his feet and the water in the tank gurgled quietly.

 Silence fell between you both again, and you sat looking at the little goldfish in the fountain as they swam around Zadok’s ankles and disappeared under the lily pads. It was serene. You looked up and soaked in the weak sun.

“I have one more question for you.” Zadok said.

You looked over to him, “What’s that?” You asked.

He looked around and leaned over, “Is there somewhere more, private than this?” he sighed, “I just…I’m sick of being recognised. I ran into a group of fans on my way here and had to sign a few things. I just…”

“Want a day away from it all?” You asked gently, “I think I have a place in mind.”

Zadok smiled at you, “You’re not planning to kidnap me, are you?” he joked as he took another drink of coffee.

“Me? Kidnap you?” You exaggerated, “I think I would have more luck catching one of these goldfish, and that’s a pretty slim chance!”

 Zadok laughed gently, like the sound of water over stone, and you stood from the fountain, holding your coffee as you waited for him to shake his feet dry and put his shoes back on. He looked at his socks and huffed before pushing them into his pockets, opting to instead carry his boots and walk barefoot through the grass.

“So, where do you have in mind?” he asked as he followed you, “Will I need my shoes on?”

You nodded at him, “You’ll need your shoes for now. The city might be okay but I’m pretty sure you’ll get glass in your feet if you don’t wear something.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s too fun. I can’t be having a day in the minor injuries unit.” Zadok followed you to the gate before he took his napkin from his coffee and wiped off his feet. He hopped on each foot as he put his sock on and then his boots. Quickly, he tied the laces up before he checked his wrist. A silver watch flashed, and he hummed at the time.

“Have you got somewhere to be?” You asked.

Zadok shook his head as he clicked the sound off his phone, “Nope. Let’s get going.” he pulled his hood back up and hid his face as you exited the park and headed out towards the city’s edge.

 “I suggest you keep your stuff close.” You suggested as you both entered into a small, abandoned area of the city. It was overgrown and the small homes here were derelict, with ivy and bushes sprouting out of the windows and collapsed roofs.

Zadok looked up through the trees, “What kind of place is this?” he asked quietly as you both stepped around a couple of mushroom circles.

“It’s a fae pool. A spirit pool of sorts.” You pointed past the houses towards a large clearing where a natural pond glittered with the light pouring through the centre hole of the canopy, “Its protected by the city for small fae and creatures to use and live in. Some species can’t integrate with humans, so these are the result.” You pointed to the rocks where a nymph combed her hair. She turned and saw you both, smiling before she blended into the air and disappeared into a small creek that trickled away from the large pond with a chime of laughter.

 “This is amazing.” Zadok breathed as he ran his claws over a rotten wooden fence, touching the ivy which wrapped around them gently, “I’ve never seen something like this before, not unless it was in the actual countryside.”

You smiled brightly as you reached the edge of the water, “Well, its something a lot of people don’t know about. I only know because of the guy I work with. He comes out here sometimes during shifts.”

“Is that the one that was with you last night, the werewolf?” Zadok asked curiously as he laid his bag down by the edge and undid his coat.

“Oh yeah, that’s Tom. He comes with me to a lot of stuff. We’ve been friends for years now.” You answered him, “I saved him a spot at the front since he was just as excited as me to see you guys.”

“He’s a nice guy then.” Zadok smiled, his needle like teeth parted slightly as he turned to sniff the air, “Sounds like a keeper.” he teased.

You shook your head, “Nah. We’re just friends. Tom is like a brother to me. We’ve both been through this before.” You shrugged, “I’m sure I’ll find someone like that though.”

“Yes, I’m sure you will.” Zadok awkwardly added before he changed the subject, “Are we allowed in the water?”

 The water was clear enough to see the heavy, dark stones that covered the bottom and you shrugged at Zadok.

“So long as you don’t kiss any Nymphs, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” You joked as you sat yourself next to the water and sipped the last remnants of your drink.

“Oh, I don’t plan on kissing any of them.” Zadok chuckled as he shrugged his coat off and reached for his tanks, “Would you mind…”

“Oh, gosh, sure, sorry.” You rambled before turning around, “Are those tanks hard to get off.

In reply you heard the hiss and click before water glugged and the tank thumped to the floor, “No. It’s not too hard, just a lot of suction cups and water glugging.” Zadok hummed and you made sure to keep turned around as fabric fluttered to the floor, “You can turn back now.” He announced quietly.

 You turned back around, clutching your drink between your hands, and looked at the man as he laid on his back and floated out into the middle of the clear water. He was bare of clothes, but nothing was exposed, and you remembered your anatomy lessons enough to know that most Mer’s had slits which hid everything away. Zadok flipped himself backwards and plunged himself deep into the pool. The water swirling was the only sign he was moving, and you walked back to the edge and sat down. Much like he had earlier, you took your shoes and socks off, and plunged your feet carefully into the water. It was quite cool, and you shuddered at the sensation before you wiggled your toes back and forth and swung your feet in the water. A hand grabbed your ankle and you jumped with a squeak until Zadok’s white head appeared. His head emerged and you marvelled at the glittering silver and purple of his bioluminescence. His eyes blinked back their protective eyelids, the third lids sliding to the sides of his eyes as he peered up at you with a grin of needle like teeth.

 “Boo.” He whispered before submerging his gills again, his eyes poking out above the water while the slits on his neck and ribcage flared and moved water.

“You’re an ass.” You commented before splashing water at his head.

Zadok flared the fins on his head, the sails on top of his head and one each side shaking in a ripple before they shone with purple light, “You stuck your feet into a pool with unknown creatures in it.” he shot back at you as he laid himself on the incline of the pool, his stomach resting against the stones, keeping his gills submerged.

“Is the water okay for you? Don’t you need salt water since you’re from the deep ocean?” You asked curiously, “You won’t get any infections from it will you?”

Zadok gave you a withering look, “I’ll be fine. If this is a fae pool it will be perfectly clean. They don’t like dirty water.” he wiggled back into the water, “I can breathe fresh water just fine, since this is pure, its even better.”

“That’s great then. I didn’t want to be responsible for making you ill or anything! Considering you have a few more months of touring it would be pretty disastrous.” You smiled with relief.

 For a while, you watched Zadok swim and dive. He dipped beneath the surface seamlessly and you marvelled at the glow to his fins and scales as he dove to the bottom of the pond. You could make out the colour of his bioluminescence beneath the surface, glowing through the water as he swam in large circles. As you sat, quiet and still, the sprites seemed to return to the water, and you smiled as a few smaller sprites sat by you in the reeds and grass. A couple of small looking mushrooms rattled together before their small arms and legs appeared and they opened their eyes, trundling over to pick at Zadok’s clothes and shoes before they hopped into his shoe and made happy noises. You laughed at them before a small, hummingbird like fae zipped in front of your face and giggled before settling herself on top of your head to play with whatever she could reach. Zadok surfaced and opened his eyelids as a couple of kelp looking creatures clung to his fins. They flopped back into the water before he could complain but he only smiled beneath the surface, snapping at them with his sharp teeth to scare them away from his fins. He reached and tugged a few of them free of his dorsal sail, the sharp needles tearing a few of them a little, but they didn’t seem to complain as they floated back into the depths of the pond.

 “They seem to like you.” Zadok commented as he swam close to the edge, his body bending before he laid his webbed hands in the grass, claws plucking at the strands and snapping them.

“If you come here long enough, they take a liking to you. They just like people who can sit quietly, and who don’t litter.” You replied as you placed your cup into his plastic bag. You hummed as you reached inside and plucked the bottle out, “Did you plan on doing a little more than swimming?” You teased as you shook the bottle of whiskey in front of him.

Zadok plucked it out of your hands and scoffed, “A little more than relaxing…” he muttered, “Something like that. It’s been a rough few weeks, being on tour and all.”

You didn’t know Zadok well, but you found yourself replying before you could stop yourself, “Is it something you want to talk about?”

“No.” he replied brusquely, “Its something at home. Nothing you can really help with.” Zadok hummed, “But some company might be nice?” he asked as he held the whiskey a little higher out of the water.

 It was only just past midday, but you smiled at him, remembering that you had the day off work anyway. You checked your phone and nodded.

“Sure. I wouldn’t mind sharing some of that. Its expensive.” You commented as Zadok undid the lid and tossed it into the grass.

He held the drink up before taking a few sips and hissing, “Definitely decent stuff.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You joked, “As a bartender, I have a keen sense for what makes a good whiskey.” You laughed before taking a mouthful and humming at the burn as you swallowed, “Oh yeah, definitely decent.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Zadok chuckled as he leaned back and floated out into the middle of the pond, his eyes closed as the sun shone through the leaves and hit the skin of his belly. His stomach glittered with blue and purple light from the natural sunlight and you watched the light show in awe before you took another sip of whiskey to dampen the feeling swirling in your gut.

 Zadok floated for a while before he dipped below the water and dove to the bottom, the water swirling in his wake. His fins popped back out of the water as he swam to the edge and surfaced, smiling at you before he held out his fist.

“Open your hand.” he insisted, “I have something for you.”

You did as you were told and placed the whiskey down to open your hands for what he had to give you. He opened his claws and dropped a large looking rock. You frowned but span it over to reveal the inside of a geode. It was split some time ago but Zadok’s swimming had cleaned most of the silt from inside of it, revealing a shiny gathering of blue and clear crystals. The sprite in your hair chirped happily before a magpie squawked and landed nearby, eyeing the shiny object up with one beady eye.

 “Wow.” You whispered, “Was this at the bottom of the pond?” You asked as you turned the crystals away from the sunlight, so the magpie didn’t decide to dive at you for the object.

“There’s a small cave at the bottom. It probably leads to some fae lair, but the inside was full of rocks and geodes. Its obviously a lair which has been abandoned though, there’s silt all over it.” Zadok commented, “They probably moved along a while ago.”

“That’s amazing.” You replied, “Thank you. Its very pretty.”

Zadok failed to stop his fins from flaring as he puffed with pride, “Sorry.” he grunted, “It’s a natural thing. I can’t stop myself.”

You only laughed at him, “Its fine, don’t worry about it.” You took hold of the whiskey again and held it out for him, “Want some more.”

Embarrassed, Zadok nodded, “Yep.” And took the whiskey as he swam back out into the pond, treading water easily as he sipped whiskey, back and forth across the length of the body of water.

 The whiskey was strong, and it quickly got to your head, making you smile as you laid near the edge of the water, talking as you watched the clouds roll overhead. You grinned as Zadok started to cloud watch with you. It was childish almost, but peaceful as you both laid back and watched the day roll past, sipping whiskey before you started on the bread and meat he had shoved into the bag as well, chewing slowly as you listened to the trees rustle and fae giggle. The sun started to dip below the horizon as you both finished off the bottle of whiskey, giggling and slapping water at each other before you flopped back against the bank with your feet swirling back and forth in the water. Zadok dipped below the surface and resurfaced happily, stretching his lithe figure out before he swam back towards you. One of his hands wrapped around your ankle, the black, tapered claws grazing over your skin before he pulled himself out of the water, and grazed them up over your calf, to the point where your bottoms were rolled up your legs. His white eyes continued up your legs, following their own path over your chest before your gazes locked.

 His fingers pressed against your skin, softly mapping the expanse of your calf before he trailed his other hand up your other leg, touching the back of your leg in a slow stroke before he heaved his body up and out of the water, resting between your legs as he dripped water over your stomach. Intensity burned in his white eyes as his nose holes flared and his mouth opened, scenting the air. You looked up at him and felt your body go hot. After a moment looking at his perfect, pearl coloured skin, you dared to stroke your hands over his stomach, following the deep purple colours as they zipped up over his shoulders and down his back. A croaking purr escaped Zadok as he pushed his skin against your hands, enjoying the petting as his lips pursed. His gills flared with a sigh before he leaned over and pressed his lips to your own. His second eyelids closed over his eyes, like he was snatching a fish from the water, and he watched you melt against the grass, one of your hands cupping his cheek, stroking at the fin on the side of his head, while your other hand dared to trail down his stomach, stroking the soft, scaled skin before you reached the mound between his legs.

 Another soft rumble ran up Zadok’s check before he croaked, the sound accompanied by the soft fluttering of his gills. His eyes were closed as your fingers grazed over the flushed flesh of his slit. You stroked along the centre where the rough scales parted to reveal a peak of his soft, blue coloured flesh.

“Fuck.” Zadok whispered as his arms shook, “Please.” he whimpered in your ear.

“Please, what?” You gasped as your finger dipped into the slit as it grew slippery with a natural lubricant before you kissed him again, stroking the flushed flesh gently as you felt his tongue prod at your lips. The two of you kissed a little deeper, tongues touching before Zadok tilted his head and pulled himself out of the water completely, pressing his wet skin and scales to your front.

The mer shifted against you as your fingers came away from his slit, covered in a thin slime, “Let me…” he croaked again with a purr, “Let me have you.”

 You grinned as he pressed his slit to your hips, rubbing the scales against you, “Do you have a room somewhere?” you asked, no louder than a whisper.

Zadok nodded his head as you dragged your nails down his back, shivering before he managed to speak, “The Rouge Bard. We have our own rooms. Everyone is out today.” he added as he blinked and leaned to nip at your lips, his gills fluttering again before he leaned back.

“We best continue this there then.” You stated as Zadok kissed you once more and pulled away, shaking water from his body as he hissed and pulled his clothes back on. The cotton dragged at the swollen flesh of his slit and you drunkenly hummed, looking at his angular ribcage, structured with thin bones and heavy scales. You were admiring him. Zadok smiled as he zipped up his cargo pants, moving the chains out of the way as they linked together and jangled.

“Yes. Let’s.” Zadok shuddered as the wind blew, but quickly covered up before stealing another heated kiss from your lips, his fins flaring as you clicked the water tank breathers to the gills on his neck.

 The two of you stumbled from the abandoned homes, stealing kisses and dragging your hands over each other’s skin as darkness settled over the city. You stumbled and laughed with one another as you reached the hotel and he dragged you into the elevator, purring his croaking noise again as he pressed you to his front and stole another kiss, his lips demanding more from you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you gasped against his teeth as they nipped at you. The elevator pinged the floor and you both collapsed out of it, dragging each other down the hall until you reached his door. You pressed his back against it as he fumbled for the keycard to get in.

A whistle sounded behind you as Zadok opened the door, “Golden boys getting some ass tonight I see.” Senoz purred from across the hall.

“I think I might be the one getting the ass.” You purred as the demon’s tails swung upwards, curled curiously.

“Well, when he’s a disappointment, you know where to find me, sweet thing.” Senoz swiped at your neck and licked the skin before leaving you both to tumble into Zadok’s room.

“Fucking demon.” the merman growled, “I’ll…”

“You better not be all talk. I might get bored and head over to see how good Senoz is in bed.” You countered as his coat fell to the floor.

 Zadok was quick to pull the suction cups of his water tank free, wheezing for a moment before he pealed his shirt off, revealing his angular chest and plated ribs again. You leaned back to admire the sight before he grabbed at your own clothes. You let him wrangle your coat and shirt off before you pushed him back towards the double bed. He went with a soft rumble, laying back against the cushions as he undid his trousers. You stood and slid them down over his hips to reveal his underwear. They were wet with lubricant. Pulling them down, you tried not to lick your lips as his slit sat before you, puffy and glistening, the head of his cock already peeking out from the blue flesh. Zadok threw his head back as you pushed your fingers against the soft scaled skin, revealing the v-shaped head of his cock.

“Fuck, please.” he whined again, “Please.” he reached for your neck and leaned up for a kiss, only to be denied as you spotted the jewellery collars on top of his dresser. They were probably from the show the night before. Before he could steal a kiss, you retrieved one of the studded black leather collars and grinned.

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you have what you want.” You promised as you slid back into his lap, holding the studs of the spiked collar open.

 The merman looked from the collar to your face. His white eyes widened before he nodded, licking at his lips with a blue, pointed tongue. You reached around his neck to click the collar closed before leaning back in his lap to admire the black leather and silver spikes against his pearlescent skin. Bioluminescence trails ran up his arms as you trailed your hands over his scaled skin. It was rough over the tops of his arms and you dug your fingers into the meat of his tricep to enjoy the feeling of the rough skin against your palms. Sitting back on his thighs, you turned your gaze downwards as you looped a finger through the ring hanging from the leather. Zadok moaned quietly as you gave it a soft tug and teased the tip of his cock. It bobbed, stirring between the blue fleshy lips before it extended out of its hole, shining wet with lubricant. His dick was long and curved upwards, with a head that tapered into a v shape. Beneath the head was bulbous, in the shape of an oval, and the bottom was flared with ribs. It was entirely new, and you felt your mouth water slightly at the sight of the blue gradient of the organ. The bottom glittered with silver light at your staring and his cock bobbed upwards sharply as your fingers trailed over his shoulders and down his ribs. Zadok let out another purring croak as you finally reached his pelvis and ran your fingertips along the top of his dick.

 “Please, master, please.” he croaked as he flopped back into the cushions, easily falling into a more submissive role as you dragged him up a little by the ring of his collar, “Please touch me.”

You shuddered at his tone of voice, enjoying the soft pleading from a voice which was usually so confident and demanding of attention on stage.

“Are you going to be a good boy and do as you’re told?” You asked as you sat on his thighs, running your fingers over his hips, towards the base of his cock, before you trailed back again, letting the head of his dick leak precum and his slit drip with more lubricant. The clear fluid leaked down over his buttocks and you watched as his face lit up with a blue blush.

Zadok swallowed thickly, “I’ll be g-good.” he promised quietly as you let go of the ring of his collar and stroked the length of his dick.

“Good boy.” You cooed as you stroked him, “We can stop anytime, just pat my thigh twice.” You told him before leaning down to steal a kiss from his lips as you pressed your finger to the sensitive head of his cock.

 “Ah!” Zadok cried sharply as your fingers twisted underneath the bulbous part of his cock, “That’s…sensitive.” he whined as you grasped the oval shape again and stroked around it, watching his clawed feet curl into the sheets, cutting slits into the sheets.

“Its sensitive is it?” You asked as you trailed over the bump again.

“Yes.” he cried, “Please, master, I can’t…I’ll cum before…”

Abruptly, you let go, watching his cock bob and throb with a hum. Zadok whined and croaked again before leaning up to kiss you, demanding your attention.

“I think I need a little help before I can fit that in baby boy.” You uttered against his lips, “How about you open me up a little?”

Zadok nodded as you took hold of his hand and looked at his claws, assessing them for a moment before you decided they were clipped enough to not shred your insides.

 Zadok croaked before purring again as you sat on your knees, resting above his lap as his hand encompassed your sex, the rough scales on the outside of his fingers grazing against your sensitive skin before they ran back and pushed at your hole. He met with resistance and the mer quickly gathered the natural lubricant from his slit, smearing it over his fingers before he pushed back against your hole. Carefully, he slid one finger inside to the second knuckle, letting you rest for a moment before he eased the rest in. Your inside were warm, and Zadok shuddered at the temperature difference before he crooked his finger and began gently thrusting it in and out. His other hand occupied itself at your chest before his mouth took to teasing your nipples, sucking on the buds until they were pert and sore, his sharp teeth nipping at the skin as he croaked again in happiness.

“You’re such a good boy.” You moaned between the attention of his mouth and hands, enjoying the pleasurable stretch as he pushed another finger into you and scissored the two apart, pressing against your plush insides.

“Anything for you, master.” Zadok purred drunkenly, his pale face flushed with blue blood. You watched his cock bob and weep a pearl of light blue precum, following the fluid as it dripped back down the length and mixed with the lubricant seeping from his slit.

 “Zadok, you’re dripping all over yourself. Is this turning you on that much?” You asked breathily as his fingers pressed into a sensitive spot, keeping your composure as he sucked on your nipples again, leaving cool spit over the skin with his blue tongue.

“Mmm. It is.” Zadok hissed as you wrapped your hand around the head of his cock, “Please, can I be inside you?”

“Hmm? What was that? Where are your manners, baby?” You asked as you pulled his fingers from you looking at them before you leaned back in his lap and pinned his hands to the bed. His dick bobbed as you stretched his arms up over his head and you admired the shape of his lithe figure, all bone and sleek muscle. His luminescence burned bright in striped over his entire body, shooting like currents as you nudged your hips against his own, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please, master, I can’t stand it. I need to be inside you.” Zadok moaned as you tugged him up by the collar for a kiss, mashing your tongues and teeth together messily before you reached back and lined his dick up against your hole, “Thank you, thank you…” He uttered incoherently as you sank down on his cock.

 A moan tore from you as the bulbous part under his head sank into you, stretching you wide before the ribs along the bottom scraped gently at your insides. A sharp bolt of pleasure ran up your spine as you took him to the base. He was unique, slippery, and textured in ways you had never taken, and you took a moment to admire his face as his second eyelids flicked and blinked back and forth. His hips shifted, jolting you on top of him, and you felt the cool seep of lubricant from where your hips were pressed together.

“You’re just gushing for me, aren’t you?” You teased as you slid up his cock and slid back down, enjoying the wet squelch that sounded as your hips collided. Zadok nodded and croaked again, reaching for his collar as his other hand wrapped around a bed post, anchoring himself as your rhythm took over, rocking his dick in and out of yourself. He struggled to say anything as the bulbous protrusion expanded, squirting something unfamiliar inside of you.

 “Did you just….” You paused as he shook his head, and your insides turned into jelly, numb to the swell but tingling with extra pleasure. It was a thin stream of jelly and you sat up on your knees to see it drip out of you thickly, numbing wherever it touched.

“Its for…eggs…” he moaned, “I couldn’t stop myself…”

You moaned as your legs shook, “It’s fine…Fuck its.” You pushed your fingers to your sex and shuddered again.

“It’s an…aphrodisiac and its…” Zadok moaned sharply his hand flying to the bed post again as you dropped on his cock, picking up the pace in a frenzy as your insides throbbed with the need to cum.

“I need to cum, baby, can you do it with me?” You asked as you leaned for another kiss and to tug at his collar, tightening the hold of your hand around his neck slightly as you thrust onto him. The ribs of his cock brushed your insides and you quivered before you came, white hot pleasure burning behind your eyes before Zadok croaked and shot his load. You shuddered at the feeling as you slowly brought yourself off his dick. Light blue cum dripped from you and you flopped against his chest with a sigh, thumbing at the collar around his neck happily in the afterglow of it all.

 Tiredly, you roused from your sleepy state as Zadok placed you back against the cushions and tugged the sheets over your body. You hummed against the cushions before the sheets slid back down over your skin.

“You’re not already up for more are you?” You cooed as you peeled open your eyes.

“If only. I’m not that young anymore.” Zadok chuckled as he eased you over onto your back and revealed a warm wash cloth. He hummed as he slid it over your skin, wiping away the cum and jelly like substance which had made your insides tingle.

“I might be able to go for another.” You hummed as he wiped between your legs and tapped at your thigh.

“Well, this one hasn’t got it in him, I’m afraid.” Zadok flopped next to you, clean and relaxed as he laid back against the cushions and reached around the back of his neck.

You reached for the collar for him, “Here. Let me do it.” You kissed the skin of his shoulder and squeezed his shoulder softly before you unclipped the press studs and pulled it away from his neck. You kissed his neck where the leather had bitten into his skin a little and placed the collar on the bedside table before snuggling back against his chest.

 Zadok croaked a little before he ran his fingers over your back, running his claws up and down your spine as he laid back and enjoyed the warmth of your skin against his own. He was cool to the touch, and you slid your fingers down over his plated chest, swooping to the side to feel the odd angle of his ribcage before you stopped above his pelvis, remembering that his dick had probably long retracted into his slit.

“Wait you don’t have anything do you?” You asked sleepily.

Zadok thumbed at the bottom of your chin, “Unless you count drug laced jello as having something, then no.” he let out a raspy breath of air before sitting up, easing you off his body, “Sorry. I need to just go and soak a while. Come and join me?”

With a smile, you leaned up on the edge of the bed and kissed him, enjoying the scrape of his scales, “Sure. Give me a minute though, my legs are still a little like jelly.”

Zadok chuckled again before he purred softly and walked to the bathroom.

 You watched his backside go before you sat back against the headboard and massaged at your thighs, hoping that the numb, tingling feeling would wear off. It felt like a residual tingling pleasure, and you felt your insides burn with the idea of another round in the posh hotel bathtub. A rumbling sounded from the floor. You perked up at the noise before looking at Zadok’s bottoms on the floor. His pocket lit up with the screen of his phone. Someone was ringing him. It wasn’t polite, and you knew that as you curiously leaned down and plucked the phone from his pocket.

‘Misty Conrad’ it read, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Miss Conch. The words rang in your head from the band meet and greet. Senoz had implied that they were together. Suddenly, the mild buzz from the alcohol wasn’t there, and you sobered up as the ringing stopped and the screen went black. You clicked the screen back on and looked at the notifications. Three messages. Ten missed calls. The phone buzzed again with a new message and you clicked it to reveal the short message.

‘I know you’re with that fan. Answer my calls Zadok or it’s over.’

 Your eyes burned with tears of humiliation. He was with her. What they had was more than a song recorded together, and you were a fool for not seeing the signs earlier. You let out a small noise as you sniffed and grew angry, the tears siding down your cheeks as you grabbed for your clothes on wobbly legs.

“Was that my phone?” Zadok asked and you turned to face him as he poked his head around the bathroom door. He was dripping with water but his eyes widened as he saw you crying and grabbing for your clothes, “Are you…”

You threw his phone on the bedside table as you tugged your underwear and bottoms on, “You’re a cheating fuck!” You accused, “And you used me! I should have known that this was stupid but… Miss Conch. She’s been ringing you all say and now she knows.” Your brain couldn’t seem to quite catch up with you as you pulled your shirt on and grabbed your bag. Zadok wrapped his waist with a towel, his mouth open as he grabbed his phone from the table and looked. He cringed at the messages and turned.

“Look, its not what you think!” he insisted as he caught your arm, “We’ve not been together seriously for ages and…”

“And nothing!” You threw back at him, “You used me to console your feelings because you can’t bare to deal with her, and you’ve made me into some kind of…”

“I’m not…” Zadok took a breath, croaking as he pulled at his fins, “Look, I’m sorry, I’ll sort this…”

“I…I don’t care.” You tugged your arm free, feeling the tears beginning to burn into your anger again, “You’re a bastard, Zadok, I want you to know that. A selfish bastard.”

 Zadok let your arm go as you opened the door and stood with his phone clenched in his claws as you slammed the door behind you. You wiped at your eyes furiously in the hall and took a shaky breath before you turned on your heels.

“Hmm, leaving so soon, sugar?” Senoz purred as he peered out into the hall, “Or did you want a piece of this instead of the fishy boy?” he sniffed and tilted his head, his horns scratching at the frame, “Wait, why are you crying? Are you alright?”

You held out your hand to him, motioning for him to stop as you wiped the tears away, “I’m fine. Leave it. I’ll be going.”

The demon turned his head to Zadok’s door as you left him stood in the hall. As you rounded the corner you heard him knock on the door.

“You know that’s real bad fucking PR to make fans cry after fucking them, Zadok!”

 You didn’t hear from Zadok after that. The band continued their tour globally, and you watched the highlights happily, listening to the songs with your usual interest. You smiled at Duncan’s solos and watched the crowd go berserk. It was energy you lived for. Zadok’s performances were stunning. He draped himself over a piano and sang a ballad before he did more singing in his ancient mer language. It was lovely, but it stung a little. It wasn’t long after their tour finished that you turned on the alternative radio station. The ends of a metal song chugged along as you made a sandwich. It was your day off from the bar and you had been cleaning most of the day, enjoying cleansing yourself of clutter and dust. You hummed as you placed two slices of bread on the plate.

 “Although we have drama in the metal scene, we’re all used to the usual knucklehead fights between rival bands, or better yet, accusations of plagiarism, but we’ve never quite had some news like this. The frontman of the band SIREN has been caught, if you mind the pun, in a fishing net of accusations. Miss Conch, the mans supposed former partner, has been blowing the lid off his life outside of his band. The accusations range from ritual sacrifice to cheating, and its not something we usually endorse. But, to answer these claims, we have the very man, or mer, with us in the studio right now.”

 You dashed for the volume dial and turned it up a little before you moved your plate closer and began to cut up your filling for the lunch.

 “So, Zadok, what do you have to say about these claims by Pop Star, Miss Conch?”

“Some are right, but most are wrong. The ritual sacrifice, for starters, is a ceremony done by my people to appease the currents of the ocean. We take a fish and its bones and lay them in art decorations as an offering. Its an old and sacred tradition. The cheating accusations are, in part true, but our relationship was never official, and I had already broken things off by the beginning of this tour. Her more serious allegations…well my manager and lawyer are already dealing with those. They are untrue and slanderous.”

“Are you calling Miss Conch a liar?”

“For the most part, yes, I am. She invaded my private life and failed to see when our relationship was over. I want to be transparent and come out to speak for my side of the story. I’m not calling her obsessed or anything derogatory, I am just justifying what is fact from fiction.”

“That’s understandable and I’m sure your fans appreciate your honesty.”

 “Unfounded and untrue.” You scoffed as you slapped your sandwich together, “Next he’ll be telling everyone that he-”

 “This drama has gone on long enough and it has hurt people close to me, not just mine and the band’s reputation. I hurt someone I now know I shouldn’t have with this mess and this is my start to fixing that mistake.”

 “That he didn’t know where his dick was going…” You whispered as you looked at the radio like it was a person staring back at you. You wondered if he was talking about you as you moved around the island of your kitchen and headed towards your couch to sit and eat your sandwich. The host thanked him before announcing the next song as Burn by SIREN. You listened to the thunderous drums as you chewed, mulling over the words in your head before the guitars wailed and you thumped at the cushions.

“Why do I even think that? He’s the one who just failed to tell me he has a girlfriend!” You grumbled to yourself before pulling your phone out. You sighed as you opened MonstGram. In your inbox, there sat one message.

 ‘Can we talk? I need to speak to you. I know I’m a selfish bastard but I want the chance to apologise.’

 The same image of the figure by the sea. You took a deep breath as you looked at the vague image of Zadok and placed your phone down, the screen black as you finished off the last bits of your sandwich. Contemplation lasted only a moment as the screen lit up and the notification registered. Another message. You looked at the icon and opened it again.

 ‘I know I’m the last person you want to see but I’m sorry things ended up how they did. I hope my stupid actions didn’t ruin your love of our music. I’ll leave you alone. That’s all I wanted to say.’

 It stank of desperation. You looked from the message and back to your empty plate. It wasn’t manipulative. It was honest, and that made you hate how you were feeling even more. You opened the conversation again and stared at the picture of the sea and cliffs. Your fingers danced over the keyboard before you started to type.

 ‘One chance. Meet me at Full Moon Bar. Friday. I’ll be on shift but I’ll talk to you.’

 ‘I’ll see you then.’

 With a great sigh, you closed your screen and looked up at the ceiling, your head resting on the back of the sofa cushions. It was a leap of faith, you knew that. You were trusting him with your good faith again.

“If he doesn’t show up, Miss Conch will be the least of his problems. I’ll slice him up like sushi and mail him back to his manager.” You spat, and the poisonous words made you feel a little better and hate him a little less. With a smile, you ran a hand over your face and got up to go and put your plate away in the sink for washing later. For now, you had a living area to deep clean, and you headed for the vacuum to try and clean Zadok from your mind for a while.

 The bar was quiet on Friday. Thankfully, there was a small group who had a lot of orders to keep you entertained. It distracted you from the nerves brewing in your gut.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you today?” Tom asked as he leaned over the bar, his nose perked as he sniffed at the air, “You smell off as all hell.”

“Get your werewolf nose away from me, Tom. I mean it.” You threatened as you turned to place some clean glasses under the bar, “I’m not in the mood for your meddling.”

“Meddling? Me? Never.” Tom teased gently, “Its like you’re worried though. Talk to me.”

With a great sigh, you turned back to face him, “Someone I’ve not seen in a long time is coming…I just need you to be there in case. Not with me or anything, just around.”

 “Of course.” Tom consoled, “I hope this isn’t some abusive asshole, because I swear on the moon I’ll…”

“Don’t worry. Its not. Its just something I need to sort out.” You assured him.

“Okay. What time do you need a minute?” he asked as he opened the bar door and stood next to you. You peered at the clock as the bell on the door rang, and Tom turned to greet them with a smile.

“Evening.” he said before he turned back to you, his eyes wide and his nose flared, “Tell me I’m not dreaming, and that Zadok from SIREN did actually just walk into the bar.”

You stiffened as you peered around him, “You’re not dreaming big guy.” You headed to the door, “So keep your cool. This is the one I need to talk to.”

Tom’s mouth opened like a large fish but he didn’t ask you any questions as you headed over to Zadok.

 Zadok ducked into a booth near the entrance, his head low and covered by a large black hood. His water respirator was on and he was wearing a mouth piece over his face. You watched him before finally taking the last couple of steps and sliding into the seat. You slid him a shot of whiskey. Zadok caught the shot glass and looked up, his white eyes locking with your own before he reached for his face and clicked a few buttons. The water drained from the mask and he pulled it free, smiling with needle sharp teeth. He was dressed in his usual baggy combats and a large, long sleeve shirt. The shirt was torn and had a few chains linked across his chest. He tugged off his hood and looked at the shot glass for a moment.

“Look I know that…That I fucked up. What I did was selfish, and I took advantage of you.” he started as he clutched the glass between his hands, “I shouldn’t have I shouldn’t have let you do what you wanted but it happened and I’m sorry.”

 You looked at his face and the wetness of his eyes, “You still did it, and that hasn’t changed. I was…I was hurt and upset. I had her message me, Zadok. Spiteful, horrible things. None of that hurt will go away but its fading.”

Zadok cringed over his drink, “We weren’t even properly together. We had sex and a few dates but with the tour, it wasn’t going any further. She messaged me constantly. Harrassed me with phone calls and I was just…I should have told her.” he looked you dead in the eyes, “I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”

“It’s a mess, but I appreciate you being so honest with me.” You confessed as he thumbed at his drink before downing the whiskey. His hands looked a little steadier after the strong liquor.

“It’s the least I could do. She’s in the past. She’s tried to file a lot of shit against me. It wasn’t worth it, and I’m…I’m tired. She can have the song rights and royalties. I just want her out of my life”

 You didn’t comment but nodded as he ranted a little. You knew about the allegations. It was widely known news to the fans now. Still, his interview weighed on your mind.

“What you said in the interview you did on Metal Talks.” You started, “Is this what you were talking about? You wanted to make this right with me?”

“Yes. I knew…Look I was a fucking idiot, I know that, but I ruined something that I thought was going to be…”

“More?” You added with a small smile.

“Call it stupidity, but…You were just stunning, and I got carried away. The alcohol didn’t help matters but I still think you’re amazing. Your love for the music, for life, it just spoke to me and… Look I can’t change anything, but I can try and sort this out.” He pushed the glass over to you on the table, “We don’t know each other, not really, but would you be willing to know me, in a better way?”

You gut churned as you looked at his pearlescent skin and his beautiful white eyes, chewing the inside of your cheek, “Maybe I would. I thought you were moving, in everything, from the moment I started to follow you all, but that doesn’t change what you did. I need time and space, but I would like to know you, the real you.”

 Zadok carefully reached for your hand and squeezed at your fingers carefully as he smiled and ducked his head. The door opened and Tom greeted the next customer. You sat, letting him hold your hand, before you blushed and got up.

“You still have to pay for the drink, but you can stay, if you like? I know Tom is dying for an autograph and a picture. He’s probably your second biggest fan.”

Zadok chuckled and looked up at you, “Who’s my first?”

“Well, you just might have to find that out.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

Our song - Harry Styles

this one was inspired by the jingleball performance bc it was pure perfection and UGHH im obsessed.

dedicated to my dear friend @dontworrysunflower

disclaimer: the song Homesick by Dua Lipa is featured in this fic as an original work of Harry and the reader, but it’s obviously an existing song, I just thought that it would be the song they write

pairing: Harry x vocalist!reader

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

You’ve felt the adrenaline rush take over your body many times in your life and they were all different in some kind of way. The one you felt when you were about to write an important test in school, the one that bubbled through your veins when you got your first kiss. The one that rolled through your limbs and chest when you first performed in front of people that weren’t your parents and the one you felt when you got the news that you were chosen to tour with none other than Harry Styles as his vocalist, singing on his stage every other night in a different city and different country.

But none of those were anything like the feeling that takes over every time you stand on that stage, your microphone that’s labelled with your name right in front of you as thousands of people are screaming in the jam-packed arena. Though it’s not you they come to see and listen to, but you are part of the magic and it’s quite enough for you.

You could never be the one standing at the front with all the lights shining down on your frame, having every gaze in the place glued to you, listening to your voice. That brings the kind of anxiety you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be able to handle. You are perfectly fine standing in the back, being the support system while staying on the down-low as someone else shines at the front, in your case, it’s Harry.

You applied for the job with a reason, already having a huge appreciation for him as an artist, adoring his work so far, especially Fine Line. Upon hearing about the opportunity to be part of his tour, you didn’t hesitate to send your application in and following three auditions, you got the phone call that they wanted you on board.

He swept you right off your feet the first time you met him, but you didn’t expect less from him. Everything you heard about him being the most wonderful person to every walk the planet were proven to be nothing but the truth. You hit it off so easily and become close through the process of rehearsals. His odd little jokes, that funny laugh of his and the way he always peeks over his shoulder to meet his eyes with yours made you fall for him faster than you’d have ever thought you could.

Just as fast as your feeling for Harry developed, tour caught up on you and before you could blink twice, you were living on the road, always dressing from your suitcase, waking up in a different city every other morning.

The foreign studio feels a little odd, but still somehow familiar as you walk in with your water and notebook under your arm. Random studio sessions with Harry became a regular not long after tour kicked off. Harry’s creative juices were overflowing and he was aching to record his creations, constantly renting random studios near the hotel you lot were staying currently and one night, when some of you all were hanging out in his suit, he asked if you’d be down helping him record vocals for a song he’s been working on.

“I want to hear it with your voice instead of mine,” he told you leaning against the wall, a glass of whatever Mitch mixed him in his hands.

“Getting bored of your own voice?” you teased him, bringing his dimples out with the smile that plastered across his lips.

“Could say that. Are you up for it?”

There was no way you would have said no. So the next morning you found yourself in a studio somewhere in Sacramento, singing the vocals to a song no one else has heard other than you and Harry.

The tour has now reached Denver, you can’t wait to be on the stage tonight, but before that, you are having another quick session with Harry in the studio.

When you walk in, his head perks up from his leather notebook he always keeps on himself, filled with his scribbled lyrics. A smile stretches across his lips when his green eyes fall on your frame.

“Hey! Hope it’s not too early for you,” he softly says standing up from the chair as you put your stuff down to the small table in the corner.

“No, managed to get a good night sleep still,” you smile at him, taking a quick look around, though this recording room is just like the others you’ve been in.

“I think I figured out that part we struggled with last time. Changed up the ending a bit, would you mind giving it another go?”

You nod looking down at his notes, seeing the changes he has made in the vocals.

“Changed anything else?” you ask as you watch him get ready for the recording.

“Yeah, rewrote a few lines, think they are fitting better now.”

“Have you recorded them yet?”

“Will do now,” he tells you shaking his head.

Soon enough you find yourself standing behind the mic, headset covering your ears as you are waiting for Harry to start recording and the music to play in your ears. Once he shows up his thumb you do the same and a moment later the song you’ve heard last time you two were working starts flowing from the headset and you stare down at the notes in front of you, waiting for the moment when you have to start singing.

It takes you a few runs to nail it down, but when you finally do, you can see the satisfied grin on Harry’s face and you think to yourself that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make him like this anytime.

“That was fantastic,” he beams once you join him at the screens where you see your voice appear as a pattern over a straight line. Harry does his usual magic before leaving it be. “Mind assisting recording my part?” he asks turning to you with an excited smile.

Nodding you let him tell you what to do and once he is all set behind the mic, you start the recording and the song. You listen to him in awe. There hasn’t been a moment when you didn’t feel the shiver running down your spine when he started singing. You are convinced a choir of angels is hidden in his throat, because it’s hard to believe he is just as human as everyone else.

He sings the whole song three times before he joins you again, listening back to what you have so far. The song is coming along pretty well and you can tell by the time he finishes it, it’s gonna be perfect. Everything he does is just pure perfection, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“You know how it would be absolutely perfect?” he asks you on your way back to the hotel. The two of you grabbed a coffee as well, so now you’re sipping on the hot drink, enjoying the somewhat sunny weather.

“Hm?”

“I think it would be best if a female voice sang the whole thing and the male was just the vocal.”

“Who do you think would fit best for it then?” you ask, immediately thinking of singers that could be perfect for the song. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry would sell a song to someone else, so you’re not surprised he is thinking about this kind of change.

“Y/N, I found the voice already,” he chuckles and you give him a puzzled look. “You. You are singing the song, I don’t need anyone else.”

“I’m not a solo singer,” you protest.

“There’s no such thing as solo or not solo. You’re a singer and a bloody good one. I want you to sing it.”

“But it would go to waste, because I would never actually perform it.”

“How are you so sure about that?” he smirks slyly at you, immediately making you nervous.

“Harry, I don’t sing solo,” you shake your head stubbornly, but he rolls his eyes at you.

“You could just try it. Let’s just record the song next time with you in the lead and then we can talk about the rest.”

“I’m fine recording, but I will never perform it,” you tell him, but his look makes you think he has other plans.

When tour reaches Dallas, the song gets a version with you singing solo and Harry doing the vocals in it. And though you had doubts about the switch, listening back to it you can tell how much it helped. It really is better with a female voice, though you are still convinced it shouldn’t be you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to someone? I’m fine with that,” you ask him before the show in Dallas. You’re sitting on the table in his dressing room while he is painting his nails, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“I told you, I like it with your voice. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m not a—“

“Fuck’s sake if you dare to tell me one more time that you’re not a solo singer, I’m firing you, Y/N!” he snaps, giving you a hard look, but you just laugh at his temper.

“It’s the truth.”

“Have you ever tried to go solo?”

“Not for years,” you admit and watch him screw the nail polish closed, pushing it aside, his hands lying flat on the table as he is carefully waiting for them to dry.

“So then how do you know you are no good at it?”

“Because I hated it back then, so I most likely would hate it now as well,” you state matter-of-factly, but Harry doesn’t seem amused by your answer.

“So you think you haven’t changed a bit in years? I hope you know that’s absolute bollocks.”

“Why are you so keen on making me sing solo?” you sigh, giving him a tired look. It feels like the two of you have been running the same circles since forever. It’s not his first attempt to get you sing more than just the vocals, he once wanted to do a cover and needed a partner because it was a duet and begged you for weeks to sing with him, but you didn’t give in. You just couldn’t.

“Because I think that you are a talented singer and I want you to feel the adrenaline rush performing gives you.”

“I do get that rush every time I sing behind you. That’s enough for me.”

Harry shakes his head pressing his lips tight together.

“That’s not the same as being in the lead. It’s a whole different world.”

“Yeah, one that makes me shit my pants,” you chuckle and he can’t push a smile back.

“Maybe we should just work on it. Your anxiety. I think we could actually make you feel better if we tried.”

“I still don’t know where this obsession with me being solo comes for you.”

Harry stands up, takes one last look at his nails before he steps closer smiling down at you softly and you bite into your bottom lip, realizing how close he is standing to you. His fingers tap in your cheek gently, running them down to your chin as he tilts your head up a bit.

“Just accept it, Love,” he smiles softly before stepping away and carrying on with his routine.

That evening, you stand at the back with the other two vocalists, eyes glued to Harry’s figure at the front of the stage, you watch him pour his soul out to the audience, interact with them and reach that state of mind you have never been able to get into. You know what he told you about performing is true, yet you are still terrified to do it yourself. It’s too nerve wrecking to have everyone look at and listen to you, so many chances to mess it up and make a fool out of yourself.

But when Harry’s eyes meet yours and he shoots you a warm smile, something shifts in you. The urge to have this connection with not just the audience and the song, but with him takes over your whole body and you make up your mind to at least give it a try.

Harry is ecstatic when you tell him later that night that you changed your mind. You see that sparkle in his eyes and it was already worth for you, just seeing him react like that.

“Though I have a few suggestions to change the lyrics.”

“You do?” he asks, seemingly surprised, but mostly amused that you had the balls to come out with it.

“Yeah. Just some tiny details.”

“Why haven’t you told me about these before?”

“Because it was your song. But if you want me to sing it, it has to be mine as well.” Harry stares back at you with a smile that’s filled with pride and joy, making your heart flutter in your aching chest as you think about performing solo.

“Our song,” he softly says nodding his head.

Arriving to Houston the two of you are quick to book a studio and work on the song. Harry lets you make any changes you desire on the lyrics, even says you did justice to it and that you should have spoken up earlier about your ideas. And then you record it.

It’s not that you have to sing the whole song and not just the vocals this time. You are completely fine with Harry hearing you sing, it’s the thought of performing it in front of anyone that’s not him, that’s what makes you turn into a wreck.

You record Harry’s vocals and once it’s all put together, you are blown by the outcome. You wouldn’t have thought Harry’s voice as the vocal would compliment you in the lead, but it’s just absolutely perfect and even you can’t find anything wrong with it.

“Love, this is what Heaven sounds like, I’m telling you,” he smirks at you from the chair beside you, playing the song for the tenth time, not able to get enough of the final product.

“You are so cheesy,” you shake your head, but feel the blush heating up your cheeks. His eyes linger on you a little longer before he turns back to the screen.

When the song is over he finally stops is so silence comes over the studio. Harry turns back to face you, his green eyes basically burning a hole into your head.

“So, when are we going to perform it?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” you sigh looking down at your hands fumbling with your shirt.

“And I do think it is. So I’m not stopping until you at least try it.”

Harry Styles gets what he wants. Always. And this time, no matter how hard you try to resist him, you just can’t deny this from him. Though it takes him time to talk you up, in Washington he finally gets you to give it a try in an empty stadium.

Most of the crew is out, since the building has been finished about half an hour before, so everything is perfectly set for tonight’s show when you walk out to the stage, following Harry in his heels. He asked the piano to be brought to the front along with a mic on it and another one on a stand next to it. The two of you quietly put on your earpieces, doing everything as if it was a usual occasion before a concert, only that this time the roles will be entirely switched.

“It’s fine, alright? No one is around,” he tells you when he sees how nervous you are to sing the song for the first time outside a studio.

“There are some backstage,” you mumble under your breath, not expecting him to do anything about it.

But he does. You watch him walk backstage, completely dumbfounded about what he is doing. He disappears from your sight and a few moments later you hear him shouting at the back.

“No one comes to the stage until I say so! Yea? Thanks!” he orders and then walks back as if he didn’t just boss around the whole crew.

“They will think you’re some kind of crazy celebrity,” you chuckle when he returns, a small smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Don’t care, Darling. Now sing you heart out for me.”

Harry sits on the piano bench, his fingers getting settled on the keys before he looks up to meet your anxious eyes.

“It’s alright. Just you and me, yea?”

Nodding you gulp hard and jump a little when he starts playing the melody the two of you have been working on for so long. You hear all the notes and you know you have to start singing, but you miss the opening. Harry stops and looks at you, as you move your eyes down to the ground, ashamed you messed up immediately.

“S-Sorry, I just—“

“How can I help?” he asks right away, not even caring about the fact that you messed up, focused on figuring out a way that would help you.

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” you sigh, feeling your nerves getting worse with each passing moment.

“Come sit next to me,” he then tells you motioning for you to join him on the bench.

“What?”

“Take your mic and sit next to me,” he repeats, scooting over to make you space. Hesitantly, you pull the mic out of the stand and walking over you sit next to him. “Now you are not in the center. Just listen to the music, watch my hands on the keys, okay?”

You nod, running your tongue over your dry lips as you hold the mic to your mouth before Harry starts playing again.

After the first few notes you close your eyes and when it’s time for you to start singing, Harry leans a little against you, giving you a kind of push to just do it. And it works.

It feels a little as if it’s not even you who starts singing, but it is. Your voice fills the empty arena along with the piano’s melody and keeping your eyes closed a little longer you let your mind settle. When the first verse ends you open them and watch his hands work on the keys, right as he starts singing the vocals, leaning a little forward so his voice reaches his mic.

It’s different. It’s electric and freeing, hear your voice through the massive speakers, to be in the lead and have Harry be just the support in the song. But it feels so right, better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Line after line, you hit all the notes and by the end of the song you are able to strip all your fears down and give yourself over to the music completely. As you sing the last few notes you feel Harry’s eyes on you and turning to face him, you are met with his warm, pride-filled smile and bright eyes, glued to you while his fingers press down the last notes.

The music dies down, the voice of the piano vibrates in the air a little longer until it completely disappears and the silence returns into the stadium.

“Love,” Harry quietly calls out for you and you turn completely towards him. “That was absolutely perfect.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

“I know so,” he huffs, smile widening. He brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for way too long.

He doesn’t try to make you perform that evening, knowing well it was enough for one day, but he does make you sing it with him in each city in the upcoming weeks. Before every concert, he empties out the area around the stage and the two of you sit down at the piano, singing your song until you feel comfortable enough to stand next to the instrument instead of sitting next to him.

The tour reaches New York and Madison Square Garden is getting ready to host Harry Styles for two evenings. The place is massive and you find yourself sitting at the edge of the stage when Harry emerges from backstage.

“Looks wild, right?” he asks sitting next to you, his thigh brushing against yours as he gets seated.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

“This place has the most magical vibe.” “Yeah?” Turning to him you watch him take the arena in, his eyes glistening at the sight in front of him. You know it’s not his first time performing here, but it’s nice to see the excitement in his eyes regardless.

That feeling returns to your chest, the one you felt when Harry told you he wanted you to sing the song. The urge to be part of this amazing something that’s so much bigger than you.

“H?”

“Yea?” he turns to you smiling.

“Can I… Do you think we could sing our song tonight?”

You watch the pure surprise and excitement wash over his face, his smile stretching across his face as he stares back at you in awe.

“You want to sing it?”

Shyly, you nod your head and in a heartbeat his arms lock around you, pulling you into the tightest hug. The two of you almost fall off the stage, laughing together at his dramatic reaction.

“Of course we can sing it, Love. Would be an honor!”

Harry is quick to let the band know about the addition for tonight’s set and though everyone seems surprised, they are all supportive about your solo. As the time goes and the concert gets closer, you can feel the nerves building up and soon enough, you start to doubt your choice to sing the song tonight.

Right before it’s time to go on stage Harry takes your hand and pulls you aside, taking your face in his hands gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I know you are doubting yourself, but just know that I’m very proud of you, even if you decide to not sing the last minute.”

“I could do that?” you whisper, your hands finding his sides and you let them rest on him, a way to ground yourself in the windwhirl of your thoughts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t really want. Though I know you will be amazing if you choose to sing.”

Nodding you let a weak smile appear on your lips and you notice as his eyes flicker down to them before he moves his gaze up to your eyes. He then pulls you into a proper hug before walking back to the rest of the band and vocalists.

Everything goes as usual and once again, you can’t take your eyes off Harry on the stage. Just watching him perform fills you up with life, enough to keep you from running away. About halfway into the set, as the crowd is still cheering after the previous song, Harry jogs over to you.

“You ready?” he asks over the noise and before you could think about it, you nod your head.

Two guys from the crew pushes the piano further to the front and they help to set everything up as you awkwardly stand at the side. Once your mic is in the stand you walk over there, heart hammering in your chest, hands shaking like crazy.

“I have a special song for you tonight,” Harry announces into the microphone as he makes his way over to the piano. “Please welcome the lovely Y/N here, who is gonna enchant you with a song we’ve been working on lately.”

The crowd screams and you allow yourself to look around with a weak smile. So many people, you think to yourself, everyone watching you.

“It’s called Homesick, and it means so much to us, so we hope you’ll like it Justas much as we do,” Harry adds before settling on the bench and his eyes find yours. “I’m proud of you,” you see him say, only able to read his lips since the crowd is screaming so loud. “Ready?” he asks and you nod, taking a shaky breath.

He sends you a warm comforting smile before glancing down at the keys and then he starts playing. 

Just like the first time, you close your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the melody and nothing else. The lump in your throat is quite uncomfortable, but you open your eyes and see that Harry is looking straight at you, nodding in encouragement, as his fingers push down the keys to the notes right before you have to start.

“Here, where the sky’s falling, I’m covered in blue, I’m running and I’m crawling, fighting for you…”

Harry smiles wide when your voice flows through the speakers, filling the whole place, making everyone go quiet in a heartbeat as the song carries on. You feel your chest slowly deflating, the nerves cooling down with each sung note.

“You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know…”

The chorus comes out perfect, your voice melting together with the piano and you finally feel your muscles relax as you slowly let go of every toxic thought that’s been tainting your mind. Harry leans closer to his microphone and his voice gently joins yours in the next verse.

“There’s a crack in my window, a bird in my room, angels all over that watch over you…”

Chills run down your spine hearing his voice, your eyes never leaving his gaze that’s fixated on your standing figure. You get lost in him and the song, something that came from the both of you, a piece of you and him. Standing there, singing this piece makes you feel closer to him than ever and you desperately want this feeling to last forever, hoping the song never ends though you know it’s gonna happen.

“When I’m walking on water all my dreams have come true. Still nothing means nothing without you…”

Homesick is exactly the feeling that bubbles inside you when you think of Harry. Because there’s this man you love so much, who is a home away from home to you, yet you still feel like you can’t be home entirely. Not in the way you’d want to. But standing on the stage in the spotlight, singing together with him as thousands of people are watching the two of you, yet you still manage to forget about them, for a moment, you feel like you finally arrived home. You are there, with him.

“Tell my heart to lie, but I know deep inside it’s true. That I wish I was there with you. That I wish I was there with you, oh I wish I was there with you.”

He plays the end of the song without tearing his eyes away from you, and there’s just a heartbeat of silence before the crowd starts screaming deafeningly, but that short moment… is yours and his.

Tugging your hair behind your ears with your shaky hands, your eardrums on the verge of breaking as you let out a laugh that was kind of a sob as well, relief washing over your body. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and rushing over he envelopes you in a tight hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you, Love. You were everything!” he mumbles, arms holding you so tight you almost lose your breath, but you want him this close, or even closer. You need to feel him, because it doesn’t feel real. His hold brings you a sense of existence only he can give you.

“Thank you, Harry,” you breathe out when he pulls back to look into your eyes, the screaming hasn’t died down even a tad little.

“No, thank you, Darling. You shined like the star that you are,” he grins, playing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before his arms fall off you.

You’d die to stay in this moment a little longer, but the show must go on. The crew pushes the piano back and soon enough, the next song starts. You stay in your spot for the rest, but you keep catching Harry smiling in your way, always making you blush.

The end of a concert is always a little hectic, everyone is all over the place. Still coming off the high you just experienced, you head to the dressing room you share with the other vocalists. They are going on and on about how amazing Homesick was, and you somehow still can’t believe tonight happened. Packing your stuff you barely notice that the door flies open, but you see Harry appear from the corner of your eye.

“Ladies, would you please give me a moment with Y/N?” he asks and the girls are quick to leave the two of you alone. You stand there, kind of dumbfounded, not sure why he is acting so dramatic. Once the door closes and it’s just you and him, he stares at you, chest heaving, his hair wet from his sweat, but he still looks breathtaking.

“Harry—“

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he cuts you off, your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him, completely frozen. Opposite to what he just said, he remains standing in the same spot and you’re not sure what’s happening. “Can I? Please say yes, I can’t hold myself back for any longer,” he then adds.

“Yes,” you breathe out without even thinking about it. In a heartbeat, Harry crosses the room, chest smashing against yours as he wraps his arms around you, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that almost makes you moan into his mouth.

It’s all a hot mess, teeth clashing, hands all over each other before his palms run down to the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. When you do, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him walk over to the table nearby, so he can place you on top, standing between your thighs as he keeps kissing you hungrily, his tongue melting together with yours in this sweet chaos. It keeps going on and on, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, but you are eventually forced to stop, coming short of air. Panting wildly, lips swollen from his kisses, you look at him to meet his gaze.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stop myself from kissing you on stage.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“Y/N, I’m fucking crazy about you and seeing you come over your stage fright, sing that song… our song, fuck, that did some unbelievable things to me. Please tell me you felt the same thing!” He is begging, not just with his words, but with his eyes as well and it crushes your soul entirely.

“I did. Harry, I always do when I’m with you.”

“Fucking Hell,” he breathes out before kissing you again. “You are… everything, Love,” he mumbles against your lips and you can’t push down the smile stretching across your face, hearing him say the same words he said right after the song.

“You’ve told me that,” you tease him, his gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his famous half-smirk, heart fluttering at the sight of him.

[whet-ones-write]

Home at last - Drabble

So I saw @lady-bakuhoe was having a bad day, so I had this idea and I just had to write it and even if it just makes you smile a little it’ll be worth it! 

Warnings; None really, Just Suggestive themes, and Kiri being a Perv.

----

Being the non-hero of the three of you was for sure the worst choice you could make, but then again you had to think, the cards that you were given weren’t great. You didn’t have a quirk, average in looks and smarts so you were better off than some but even then sometimes you couldn’t help but wish for something different. 

Even a quirk to help you in life would have been better than nothing. What made matters worse is that people these days just had no respect for people without quirks or at least so it seemed. You were treated as if you were at the bottom of the ladder with no way to climb up. 

So when you got home you couldn’t help but sniff away the tears you had already cried. Hanging up your coat you could faintly hear music going on in the background only to be reminded that there was something that you did have that other’s didn��t.

The famous Red Riot and DynaMight as boyfriends.

Though with their odd schedules of patrols, paperwork and never ending crime you rarely got to see the pair of them. Though laughter could be heard once you walked closer to the kitchen. 

“You can’t make me, no matter how much money is being put to charity!” The otherly familiar voice of a certain Bakugou ran out. 

“Oh come on bro. Izuku, Denki, Iida and even Shinsou have all joined in, it’ll raise your popularity and everyone will love it!” Clearly Kirishima was trying to get him to join into something that Katsuki was having nothing of. 

“No if that Shinsou is partaking then I absolutely want nothing to do with it. Also I don’t know about you but I can’t sing, remember back in UA? For the festival we did? I’m a dummer, not a singer, ``he warned. 

Seeing such a domestic sight you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned against the door. This is what you did love when you got to see them, the dynamic of the home that didn’t much different while outside, as they were true to themselves. 

“Oh hello sweetheart” Kiri greeted as he approached you. Wrapping his arms around you. 

Hearing the stove turn off you looked to the side to see Bakugo making his way around to sandwich you between himself and Kiri. “Hey there, why have you been crying?” He asked only for Kiri to speak up next. 

“Shitty customers?” He questioned to be confirmed with a nod, just as if reading your mind.  “Well you don’t have to worry now, we’re home, off for the next week for a well needed holiday” Kiri explained as he leaned down to kiss at the base of your neck on your left.

Not to be out done Bakugou leaned down the other side to nip at the sensitive and soft skin where he could reach on the right. “Yeah and dinner is slowly boiling, I did a stew so we could take some time together when you got home as a surprise” He smirked as he looked over to Kiri. “I don’t know about you, but I'd rather have my dessert now” He muttered, looking over at you, clearly hungry for something other than food. 

“Hmm, only if it doesn’t spoil dinner” Kiri agreed as he picked you up over his shoulder to just have Bakugou smirk as he saw under your work skirt. 

“Hey Kiri you know that red set you made for women?” Bakugou question only to reach out and hook it under the elastic to let it ping back into place at your pussy. “She’s totally soaking it~” Groaning the said male that carried you up to the bedroom in a hurry to toss you on the bed. “God I fucking love it when you wear my shit, I just want to show it off in public” Kirishima admitted as he took off his shirt. 

“Fucking hell Kiri i’m surpised no one has cotton on to just how big of a pervert you are man. All the lingerie sets, adult games, and suggestive shit you say and do.” Chuckling lightly Bakugou watched on the scene with folded arms. 

“Yeah I mean can you blame me? With partner’s like you both, it’s hard to hold back sometimes” The red head admitted climbing onto the bed behind you, kissing wherever he could reach and slowly snaking his arms down to slowly start spreading yourself to Bakugou. “You can’t deny that she’s so pretty when she’s on display in front of you like the slut she can be for us”. 

“Be that as it is, we have to take our time, we have at least two hours before the stew is ready” He smirked climbing onto the bed, licking his lips. “I wonder just how many times we can make you orgasm before then”