#i think all artists should just give me a warning before they drop tour dates

[navyhyuck]

i can’t believe dreamie tour announcement too i’m

[theharrowing]

Sun Seeker 🌞 3: We should make a habit of this

Namjoon does not do impulsive. He doesn’t understand the fuss about body modifications, and he has never considered getting one. That is, until he meets Yoongi—the prettiest man he’s ever seen, who happens to be a tattoo artist—and he can’t stop thinking about going under Yoongi’s needle to have an equally pretty design tattooed onto his skin.

🌻 Namjoon x Yoongi 🌻 word count: 16.3k 🌻 strangers to lovers, tattoo shop au, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+ 🌻  warnings: namjoon in his entirety fit with the lace and mesh shirts, smut! (dirty talk, semi-public oral sex, ass to mouth, anal fingering, frotting, teasing, anal sex, dick piercings, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, safewords, praising, pain kink exploration, semi-public anal sex), fluff! (flirting, confessions), a smidgen of angst (anxiety), getting ears pierced (brief description of needle & piercing). side taekook. 🌻 written for the Namgi World Tour Fest! 🌻 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading! 🌻 posted jan. 2023 | read on ao3

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For their third date, Namjoon wants to wear something nice—something to really knock Yoongi's socks off and make his jaw drop. It is for this reason that Namjoon has been standing in his closet with his hands in his hair, stressing the fuck out. He needs to call in reinforcements.

Namjoon Are you busy?

Namjoon is an appreciator of art, and he likes to think he knows which colors go well with others, and which do not. But putting an outfit together—color, form, material—it eludes him. He wishes he had the same eye as Taehyung. 

Tae Tae 🎁 You literally just saw me three hours ago. Obsessed, much???

Namjoon Some best friend you are.

Tae Tae 🎁 Fine, you win! What is needed of me, best friend?

Namjoon I'm stressing out about what to wear. 

Tae Tae 🎁 To the club? Wear anything.

Namjoon "Anything" to me is not the same as "anything" to you. You could wear a sheet with a belt wrapped around it, and you would look put together.

Tae Tae 🎁 That's not a bad idea...🤔

Namjoon Tae, I'm serious.

Tae Tae 🎁 Me too. I have a floral sheet that might look great with my knockoff Gucci belt.

Namjoon You're impossible.

Tae Tae 🎁 Hush, now. I'll save you. Give us 20. 

Namjoon Us?

Tae Tae 🎁 Yes, us. Jeongguk and I are a package deal now. 

Namjoon Fine. See you in 20.

"This is too much," Namjoon whines as he stares at his reflection. He looks good—damn good, if he is being honest. But he has never dressed in anything like this before, and it makes him feel nervous. 

"Nonsense!" Taehyung exclaims as he holds various silver necklaces up to Namjoon's neck and cocks his head side to side, trying to choose one. "You look fucking hot. Yoongi is going to die."

"Killing Yoongi is not the goal," Namjoon grumbles as he nibbles the inside of his lip. 

Taehyung waves Namjoon off and shakes his head, then holds the whole bunch of necklaces up as if deciding that he wants Namjoon to wear all of them. Which, Namjoon thinks, is ridiculous. Except, Taehyung drapes all of them over Namjoon's wrist—which he has taken the liberty of grabbing and positioning where he wants it—and unclasps them one by one to wrap around Namjoon's neck.

As soon as Taehyung takes a step back and studies his hard work, Namjoon has the overwhelming urge to tear at the clothing and jewelry and start over. He feels like a fraud staring at his reflection, and he hovers his palms over the yellow lace long-sleeve button-up shirt that Taehyung has left halfway unbuttoned and tucked into black jeans, which have been distressed with bleach, he assumes, leaving horizontal tan streaks down the length. But the real kicker is the white mesh shirt underneath, covered in silver sequins, which shows—in all of its somewhat sculpted glory—Namjoon's chest.

Namjoon had already felt self-conscious about the shirt upon first trying it on, and Taehyung wolf-whistling while exclaiming, "Mesh on top of big, beefy tits, what a gift," certainly did not help.

"This...isn't me," Namjoon mutters, feeling more apprehensive the longer he stares at himself.

"Nonsense," Taehyung insists, reaching around with both hands from behind Namjoon to delicately part his bangs over his forehead. Namjoon is used to Taehyung being in his personal space and fucking with his hair, and he does not flinch.

"I'm sure Jeongguk is outfitting Yoongi in just as devastating of an ensemble as we speak."

Evidently, when Taehyung informed Jeongguk that they were going to play dress-up with Namjoon, Jeongguk had the brilliant idea to dress Yoongi, claiming he also seemed pretty nervous about their date. Namjoon finds the notion of Yoongi being nervous both hard to believe and incredibly endearing. He likes the idea of Yoongi fussing over his hair and clothes, and he blushes at the thought of him getting flustered and grumbly when Jeongguk recommends something too outlandish, presuming he and Taehyung have similar ideas.

Namjoon opens his mouth to ask when they are going to finally leave for the club when a loud ping comes from Taehyung's phone, which is sitting on his bed. A smile creeps over Taehyung's lips, but he finishes what he is doing—using his pinkies to place the hairs over Namjoon's forehead just so.

"You look stunning," Taehyung beams as his hands fall to Namjoon's shoulders. "I have a jacket you can throw over this, too, so you don't walk into the club feeling instantly self-conscious."

"That's a relief," Namjoon responds, looking at his friend in the reflection, who rests his chin on the hand that sits on Namjoon's shoulder.

Taehyung is somewhat dressed down for his style, in a plain white tee tucked into mustard slacks with a thick leather belt around his waist. Draped over the edge of the bed is a black blazer covered in lilies that resemble a watercolor painting in bright reds, deep blues, and inviting greens, which he plans to wear to bring the look together. 

Namjoon puts on a black bomber jacket, but he knows that if he zips it up, Taehyung will give him hell. Still, it is pretty obvious that he is wearing two layers of see-through material, and he hopes that whatever Jeongguk has dressed Yoongi in is somehow more over the top than what Taehyung has put him in, just to ease his mind. 

His hopes are thwarted, however, when they show up to the club, only to find that Yoongi's outfit is pretty standard. 

"Great work, Gguk, but...a white tee? Really?" Taehyung mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Jeongguk—dressed predictably in a black tank top tucked into black slacks that are accessorized with a chunky black leather belt—blushes as he slings a black jacket over his shoulder and gives Taehyung a forlorn expression. "He threatened to cut my mesh shirt into strips if I brought it near him."

"Hyung!" Taehyung scowls, turning his focus on Yoongi, who Namjoon realizes is staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

Yoongi blinks as if he has just been pulled from another dimension, and turns his attention to Taehyung long enough to mutter, "S-sorry, did you say something?" before returning his gaze to Namjoon, and Taehyung laughs it off, clearly giving up on complaining. 

And it is not as if Jeongguk didn't do a good job. Sure, Yoongi is in a plain white tee, but it hugs him perfectly, showing hints of the muscle beneath it, and it is tucked into the tightest black jeans Namjoon has ever seen. The ends of the jeans disappear under tall black boots, making Yoongi's already slender legs appear longer and thinner, and he wears a blue bomber jacket and a cute, black beret. 

If someone were to ask Namjoon before how he felt about the beret as a fashion accessory, he would probably have shrugged and said he had no opinion. But seeing Yoongi donning one with his pretty, overgrown dark brown hair pulled away from his face, showing off his forehead, piercings, and neck tattoo in all of their glory, Namjoon thinks that perhaps the humble beret is his favorite invention to date. 

Both Namjoon and Yoongi stare at one another while the overwhelming sights and sounds of the club blare brightly and loudly around them. Fingers snapping in Namjoon's face pull his attention to his very impatient best friend, who gives him an incredulous glare.

"Drinks?" Taehyung asks.

"Yes," Namjoon responds, incapable of thinking about anything beyond the general idea of having a drink.

"Preference?" Taehyung asks a bit more sharply.

Namjoon shakes his head. "N-no. I don't know. Just...whatever you guys have."

With a scoff, Taehyung mutters, "I'll bring you whatever Jeongguk orders for Yoongi," as he makes his way from the table to the bar. Jeongguk follows behind, leaving Namjoon and Yoongi alone, and Namjoon finally finds the ability to move his limbs in order to approach Yoongi and pull him into a hug. Woody musk and a hint of citrus fill Namjoon's nose, and he inhales deeply.

"Taehyung put you in lace," Yoongi mutters slowly as if caught in a trance. "And mesh."

Namjoon chuckles, feeling his apprehension somewhat melt away from the attention Yoongi is giving him. He responds, "I'm disappointed I don't get to see you in mesh," earning a scoff from Yoongi.

They pull out of the hug and take two seats on one side of the table, rotating their bodies to face one another. Their knees bump, and both men chuckle until they get lost in each other's eyes, and the laughter dies. 

Yoongi has a light dusting of black eye shadow outlining his eyes, and silver hoops in his ears, and Namjoon blurts out, "You are so fucking pretty," as his eyes struggle to decide where to look.

"I'm pretty?" Yoongi asks as he pushes Namjoon's jacket open to expose more lace and mesh. "You're...I mean...seriously, Joon. I feel like it's my birthday."

"Stop," Namjoon mutters, feeling self-conscious as his cheeks warm.

"I can't believe I get you all to myself later, and you come dressed like this."

"Hyung," Namjoon whines, but the thought of Yoongi running his hands over his mesh-covered pecs does excite him quite a bit. 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow and smirks. "If I didn't want our first time to be so special I would drag you into the bathroom right now."

The sound of a glass being set on the table makes both men flinch, and Namjoon turns to find Taehyung looking at them with a surprised expression, and Jeongguk pursing his lips together while he looks anywhere but at the two men seated in front of them. 

"And they say romance is dead," Taehyung chides as he sits down and slides two glasses of what appears to be whiskey to Namjoon and Yoongi. "There's quite a bit to unpack, hyung. Where to begin, where to begin?"

"Thanks for the drink, Tae," Namjoon shouts as he grabs his glass, sniffs to confirm it is whiskey, and takes a gulp. The caramel color liquid burns slightly as it coats his tongue, and he can't help but cringe as he adjusts to the flavor. 

"The bathrooms here are surprisingly clean," Taehyung continues as he sits across from Namjoon. "And the ones upstairs are individual rooms, in case you want some privacy."

"Alright, Taehyungah," Yoongi says in an annoyed grumble, despite the look of amusement that tugs at his lips. 

Jeongguk settles at the table across from Yoongi, and everyone drinks. In an attempt to change the topic, Namjoon asks Yoongi how long he has been tattooing, and Yoongi blushes as he mutters, "Since I was 15," taking him by surprise.

"It started as little stick-and-pokes, and occasionally one of my cousins would let me tattoo oranges with his equipment. When I got older, I bought a machine and apprenticed under the same cousin, and the rest was history."

"He was piercing, too," Jeongguk adds, "before I came along and freed up his schedule so he could only tattoo."

"Is that so?" Namjoon asks with a raise of his eyebrow, and Yoongi nods. 

Namjoon's eyes flit between Yoongi's eyebrow, ears and lip. "How many piercings do you have, hyung?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, and he nibbles on his lip, looking away from Namjoon. If Namjoon is not mistaken, Yoongi seems embarrassed by the question, which has Namjoon's mind absolutely racing. 

"Hyung?" Namjoon presses, nudging Yoongi with his elbow.

Yoongi picks up his drink, holds it to his lips, and mutters something under his breath before taking a drink. Unsure what he said, Namjoon leans in close, looking between a shy Yoongi, an amused Jeongguk, and a confused Taehyung. 

"What was that, hyung? I missed it."

With a loud clearing of his throat, Yoongi turns toward Namjoon, eyes looking down at the drink in his hands, and says, "Twelve."

"Twelve?" Namjoon repeats, counting the piercings he can see—two in each ear, one in his eyebrow, and one in his lip—then begins to imagine where else a piercing could be. "Interesting, because I only count six."

The dim lighting of the club paired with rainbow lights flitting all over makes it hard for Namjoon to see the blush that he imagines is turning Yoongi's cheeks a pretty shade. He curses the unfortunate circumstance, determined to tease Yoongi into spilling the beans, anyway. 

Yoongi chugs back the rest of his whiskey and stands in a rush, asking, "Anyone else need another drink?"

"Now, now," Namjoon says, reaching for Yoongi's hand and holding it tightly. "This conversation is still in full swing."

With an incredulous glare, Yoongi stares down at Namjoon. Then, with a huff, he sits. "My nipples and my belly button are pierced," he blurts out, avoiding eye contact with Namjoon, who chuckles.

"And you have two rings in each, I presume?" Namjoon asks with a smirk.

Yoongi shakes his head—small, quick movements—biting back a smile. "You presume incorrectly."

"I can't believe hyung is too shy to tell his new boyfriend that he has his dick pierced," Jeongguk blurts, making Taehyung gasp.

At this piece of information, the world comes to a screeching halt. Namjoon's mouth falls agape—brain absolutely empty of thought—and he stares at Yoongi, who shifts around in his seat, glaring at Jeongguk with a deadly look. 

Jeongguk giggles into his drink while Taehyung mutters, "Whoa, for real?"

When Namjoon continues to stare at Yoongi in a daze, Yoongi reaches over and smacks Namjoon on the arm, whining, "It's perfectly normal to have a dick piercing!"

"Is it?" Namjoon asks through a chuckle.

This time, Yoongi's mouth falls open, and he stares at Namjoon as he shifts around in his chair with a huff. "Don't shame me!"

"I'm not shaming you, hyung," Namjoon defends, "I've just never seen a dick piercing before."

"Well," Jeongguk chimes in—helpful as ever, "Technically two dick piercings and one on his balls."

"Your b—" Namjoon begins, struggling to finish the sentence. 

Yoongi's expression darkens, and he smirks playfully, asking, "Wanna see?"

Of all the things that might count as moving too quickly and possibly technically breaking the three-date rule, grabbing Yoongi by the hand and asking Taehyung exactly where the upstairs bathrooms with locking doors are located is probably high on that list. Namjoon, however, does want to see these piercings, and he takes his eyes off Yoongi only long enough to slam back his whiskey.

"Tae, where are those bathrooms?" Namjoon asks, turning back to Yoongi, whose expression is a priceless wide-eyed mix of shock and excitement. 

"Up the stairs, to the left, all the way back," Taehyung supplies.

Namjoon takes Yoongi's hand and stands, tugging Yoongi to his feet as he snakes past clubgoers who mingle near the bar. As they scale the steps, Namjoon's heart pounds heavily, aided by the thud of the bass booming too loudly in his ears. 

The upstairs bar is crowded, but to Namjoon's delight, there seems to be nobody waiting for either of the gender neutral bathrooms, and he taps the door to the nearest one open with his foot, turning on the light and pulling Yoongi inside. 

Yoongi appears out of breath as he enters the room, leaning into the door to close it behind him. As soon as Namjoon locks the door, Yoongi reaches to his neck and pulls him close, licking over his lips and groaning when Namjoon gives him access. Kissing Yoongi ignites something in Namjoon, and he crowds his space, grabbing his face gently as their tongues glide over one another. Namjoon nibbles on the metal hoop in Yoongi's lip until he whines, and when they pull out of the kiss, Namjoon lets his hands fall to Yoongi's shoulders, with his eyes on his pretty spit-slick lips. 

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asks, rubbing his hands over Namjoon's shoulders and chest.

Namjoon gently takes the collar of Yoongi's jacket in both hands and opens it just enough to reveal his pecs. Sure enough, under the white shirt, Namjoon can spot two bumps where each nipple is, indicating barbells through each one. 

"You're full of surprises," Namjoon groans, feeling dizzy from this revelation. "How did I never notice?"

"I had silicon retainers in before, so they didn't show through my clothing, and you probably wouldn't have felt them." Yoongi responds with a sly smile.

"So you put these in tonight, for me to discover?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi grins, nodding his head. 

One of Namjoon's hands falls, and with his index finger, he rubs over Yoongi's belly until he lands on another set of metal balls. Yoongi gathers his shirt in both hands, untucking it in the front, and lifts the fabric enough for Namjoon to see a simple silver bar in his bellybutton. Namjoon swoons. 

Suddenly, the realization that Namjoon dragged Yoongi into a public bathroom to look at his dick settles over him, and he begins to feel a little foolish. He swallows a lump and studies Yoongi, who seems to pick up on his anxiety and cocks his head.

"I just pulled you into the bathroom to see your piercings without considering how nerve-wracking it might be to show them to me," Namjoon admits.

"I offered," Yoongi responds with a smirk.

"But were you serious?" Namjoon asks.

Yoongi chuckles, nibbles on his lip, then begins to slowly unbuckle his belt. "It's not like I wasn't planning on letting you see them tonight, anyway."

Suddenly, the fluorescent lighting is too bright, and the smell of cleaning products is too strong. But Namjoon does not want to be anywhere but in this small, disorienting room with Yoongi.

"Are you sure you wanna see?" Yoongi asks one more time, and Namjoon takes a deep breath as he nods and mutters, "Yes. Please."

Yoongi's belt falls open, and his mesmerizing hands go to work undoing his fly. Once his pants are undone, Namjoon sees a hint of tight, dark blue briefs, and his mouth begins to water as his stomach swoops. He is really going to see Yoongi's dick, right here in this bathroom, and he cannot come to terms with it.

"You look scared," Yoongi says as he reaches into his briefs.

Namjoon looks up at Yoongi's face, then down at his crotch, and shakes his head. "Just struggling to comprehend reality, but I am very much not scared," he mumbles. 

Yoongi chuckles, then pulls his briefs down, and Namjoon sees two of the piercings—a circular ring right where the base of his dick and his scrotum meet, and a barbell on the underside of Yoongi's length. Then, Yoongi moves his hand down, gripping his shaft loosely, and Namjoon sees the final piercing. A thick, metal ring sticks through the head of Yoongi's cock—in through the hole and out just below the crown. 

"Wow," is all Namjoon can say, not only because he has never seen pierced genitals before, but because Yoongi's cock is out in the open, slowly enlarging with blood. 

Without thinking, Namjoon drops to his knees and stares up at Yoongi, whose eyes widen as big as saucers as they follow his movement.

"Y-Yoongi-hyung," Namjoon mutters as his pulse echoes loudly in his ears. 

"Yes, Joon?"

"May I—I mean—I really want—" Namjoon swallows a lump and Yoongi chuckles. 

"What is it?"

Namjoon looks up a Yoongi through his eyelashes as he asks, "May I suck your dick?"

Yoongi huffs out a heavy breath and nods as he begins slowly stroking his length, but Namjoon reaches up and gently takes Yoongi by the wrist, stopping the movement. 

"I want to feel you get hard in my mouth," he says, smiling with delight as Yoongi lets out a quiet gasp.

Namjoon sits high on his knees and rubs his hands up and down Yoongi's thighs, feeling the slightly scratchy denim under his fingertips. Yoongi watches with a somewhat dazed expression as Namjoon with his mouth close, waiting for Yoongi to consent one more time.

"Please don't make me beg," Yoongi breathes.

Namjoon grins, then leans forward and licks a strip from the scrotal piercing, over the bar in his shaft, up to the ring in the head, gently teasing the cold, hard steel with the tip of his tongue. A deep moan leaves Yoongi's lips, and Namjoon has to hold back making a sound of his own—feeling arousal flutter from just his voice alone. 

"So after we get out of here, and you take me back to your place to fuck me," Namjoon says between flicks of his tongue over the large metal ring, "will I be able to feel these?"

"Yes," Yoongi moans.

The feeling that washes over Namjoon is intoxicating—warmth covers him from head to toe, tingling. Arousal courses through him like oxygen, and he very desperately wants Yoongi to bend him over and show him precisely how these piercings feel inside him. 

Without another word, Namjoon opens his mouth and swallows Yoongi's semi-hard length. Yoongi gasps and groans, hips trembling and jerking forward, and Namjoon breathes through the urge to gag, feeling a bit rusty after not having a cock between his lips for longer than he would care to admit—not to mention the intrusive feeling of having a metal ring hit his throat adding to the sensation. It does not take long for him to adjust, and he begins slurping and sucking, letting drool fall past his lips and make a big fucking mess as Yoongi hardens—thick and heavy on his tongue. 

"Your mouth feels incredible," Yoongi groans, gripping Namjoon by the hair and gently thrusting his hips. 

Namjoon moans as he sucks Yoongi eagerly, unconcerned about Yoongi's hips pressing him in just a little too deep. The metal barbell in Yoongi’s shaft tugs occasionally on Namjoon’s bottom lip. It doesn’t hurt, but it does feel strange enough to make him want to giggle, which he does his best to hold in. 

Outside, someone knocks on the door, and Yoongi moans, "Occupied," as his fingers tug harder on Namjoon's hair.

"You're gonna make me cum," Yoongi mutters softly, and Namjoon slowly sucks Yoongi all the way to the tip, releasing his lips long enough to say, "Good," before sinking back down.

Yoongi trembles and softly moans as he gets closer, and Namjoon sucks in his cheeks, feeling impatient and wanting to taste his release. Luckily, Namjoon's desire is granted quickly, and Yoongi grips onto his hair and gasps shaky breaths, muttering, "I'm cuming," moments before thick, salty liquid hits Namjoon's tongue and slides down his throat.

"Holy fuck," Yoongi groans as Namjoon continues to gently suck, milking him of every drop. The tugging on his hair gets harder as Yoongi whimpers, "Joon you're gonna fucking kill me,"

As Namjoon clearly stated earlier, killing Yoongi is not the goal, so he releases Yoongi's cock, sitting back on his heels while he licks his lips. Yoongi bends, takes Namjoon's cheeks in his hands and kisses him deeply, groaning as his tongue strokes over Namjoon's.

"You're insane," Yoongi mutters, letting go of Namjoon's face to tuck himself back into his pants.

"Insanely attracted to you," Namjoon responds with a grin, knowing precisely how cheesy he sounds.

"Your lips are pink and swollen, Joonie. You look like you've been sucking dick."

Namjoon chuckles and begins to stand, groaning as his legs protest after being bent against hard tile. "I can't imagine why I would look like that."

Yoongi advances, pushing Namjoon by the hips until his ass hits the sink, and their bodies are pressed together. Namjoon was too distracted by pleasuring Yoongi to worry about the erection in his jeans, but with Yoongi standing flush against his body, it is all he can think about.

"We should get out of his bathroom," Yoongi mutters, and Namjoon nods in agreement. "But your dick is hard."

Namjoon shrugs. "It's fine. I'll walk it off."

"How soon until we can get out of here so I can repay the favor?" Yoongi asks, mouth dragging across Namjoon's lips.

Namjoon hums and attempts to give it some serious thought, but his brain feels short-circuited. "One more drink?" he suggests after a moment.

"Perfect," Yoongi groans, sucking Namjoon's bottom lip gently between his teeth until Namjoon whimpers into his mouth, releasing with a deadly smile. 

People are waiting in the hallway when they exit, and Namjoon ducks his head down, avoiding eye contact as a smile tugs on his lips. He has never been with someone who would initiate, much less agree to semi-public sex, and he wonders what other exciting, experimental things he and pretty, spontaneous Yoongi might do together. 

Yoongi holds Namjoon's hand as they approach the upstairs bar and order two more glasses of whiskey, then they continue to hold hands all the way downstairs, to where their friends are waiting. Taehyung takes one look at Namjoon and gasps, and Jeongguk grins, asking, "Have fun?"

Namjoon hums and nods, and Yoongi shrugs, muttering, "I don't know what you're talking about," causing everyone, including himself, to laugh.

"How was the bathroom?" Taehyung asks.

"Clean," Namjoon says, and Yoongi hums in agreement. 

"Well, the floor was clean,” Namjoon continues. “I didn't really see anything else."

Yoongi smacks Namjoon on the arm as Taehyung and Jeongguk share a knowing glance, and Namjoon lifts his drink to his lips and smiles.

"We're gonna head out after this drink," Yoongi announces. 

Namjoon half expects Taehyung to whine about them leaving so soon, but instead, he says, "I'm surprised you came back at all. I was expecting a good night text to come through any minute."

“Wow, you really thought I would bail on you?” Namjoon teases, feigning being hurt as he takes a seat, hand still held tight by Yoongi. 

“Well, you got a tattoo, which is something I never thought you would do,” Taehyung responds incredulously. “And you…examined the bathroom floor…whatever that—I don’t want—“

Jeongguk waves Taehyung off, shushing him, and Namjoon can’t help but chuckle. He has been stepping far out of his comfort zone lately, and it feels good. 

“So,” Jeongguk says with a grin that Namjoon recognizes as pure mischief, “what do you think of hyung’s piercings?”

Taehyung flails, attempting to shush Jeongguk by holding a hand over his mouth, but the youngest is undeterred. 

“What?” Jeongguk half-shouts. “Those are my handiwork! I want to know if Namjoon-hyung thinks I did a good job!”

At this, Namjoon laughs hard, squeezing Yoongi’s hand and holding tightly to his drink so that it doesn’t spill. Tears threaten his eye line, and his chest rocks. What Jeongguk said was not even that funny, but Namjoon just feels so elated, anything might set him off. 

“You did very well, Jeonggukah,” Namjoon finally says, sneaking a glance at a very amused Yoongi. “Excellent craftsmanship.”

“Alright,” Yoongi grumbles, clearly done with the conversation as he tugs on Namjoon’s hand. 

Namjoon continues to chuckle but manages to drink some of his whiskey. The music in the club is loud, overproduced, and technically not very interesting, but the beat continues to boom in time with Namjoon’s pulse, and he is glad to be right where he is, with all three menaces in his presence. 

Taehyung and Jeongguk finish their drinks and get up to get another round. As soon as they turn to the bar, Yoongi leans close, pressing his lips to Namjoon’s neck. 

“I still can’t believe you did that,” he grumbles against Namjoon’s skin. 

“I honestly can’t either,” Namjoon responds with a smile, turning to stare into sharp but soft eyes. “You make me want to be impulsive.”

Yoongi stares at Namjoon, cracking a soft smile. “Does that worry you?” 

Truth be told, it does worry Namjoon a little. But not because he does not trust himself to make good choices. All that worries him is that he might be too swept up in a whirlwind of Yoongi, only to crash back to earth harder than he could possibly imagine. But, all of these concerns have already been aired, and Namjoon does not want to drudge them back up at a time like this, so he smiles and says, “Only a little.”

“We can take it slow—“ Yoongi begins.

Namjoon squeezes Yoongi’s hand and shakes his head. “I don’t want to take it slow with you. I want all of you, as soon as possible.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash, and he lifts his drink, gulping half of it down. Namjoon drinks some of his, as well, feeling the warmth of the liquor settle in his chest as excitement begins to gently but insistently quake through him. 

“What you said in the bathroom,” Yoongi says, leaning so close, Namjoon can only see a Yoongi-tone blur from the corner of his eye. “You want me to fuck you?”

Namjoon nods and turns his head so he can look into Yoongi’s eyes. “If that works for you.”

“That does work for me,” Yoongi responds with a grin. 

Namjoon takes two big gulps of his whiskey, finishing it. His mouth and throat feel thick and heavy, with a bitter taste, and he exhales through it as he sets his glass down. Yoongi finishes his drink and places his glass beside Namjoon’s, and they glance around for their friends, finding them still at the bar. 

Without a word spoken between them, Namjoon stands and pulls Yoongi toward the boys. They squeeze through a small crowd and pull Taehyung and Jeongguk into a hug once they finish placing their order with the bartenders. 

“Have fun but be safe,” Jeongguk says with a stern look. 

“Text us when you get home,” Taehyung adds. 

“Yes, dad,” Namjoon and Yoongi grumble at once—Namjoon finding it hard to keep a grin off his face. 

Taehyung and Jeongguk collect their drinks and walk toward the dance floor, trailing Namjoon and Yoongi, who have to pass that area to get to the exit. With one more wave goodbye near the edge of the writhing throng of bodies, Taehyung places a hand on his heart and shouts, “They grow so fast.”

Jeongguk sighs, mimicking Taehyung, shouting, “I’m so proud of our boys.”

Yoongi stands so close to Namjoon that the bounce of his shoulders can be felt, and Namjoon laughs, tugging Yoongi outside.  

“Those little shits,” Yoongi grumbles once they are out on the sidewalk. 

Namjoon lets go of Yoongi's hand and wraps his arm around his waist, pulling him close, humming in agreement. Yoongi snakes an arm around Namjoon’s waist, and Namjoon could swear the spot under his large, warm hand tingles from the touch. The club is close enough to their neighborhood that they fall into step toward Yoongi’s place; nobody bothered to drive. 

“I wonder what other firsts I can get you to do,” Yoongi muses, turning his pretty smile to Namjoon.

With a hum, Namjoon shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“I’m still a certified piercer,” Yoongi suggests with wide eyes, swimming with mirth. 

Namjoon glances between Yoongi and the sidewalk ahead, and scoffs. “I don’t think I need a piercing, hyung.”

“Not even your ears? You’d look good with some silver hoops.”

Warmth blooms over Namjoon, covering him like a hug. Even if he is not sold on the idea of piercings in his own ears, he likes Yoongi telling him he would look good. 

“Already trying to get us to match, hyung?” Namjoon teases. 

Yoongi chuckles and squeezes Namjoon’s side. “I guess that’s something only couples do.”

Unsure what to say, Namjoon hums and keeps his eyes ahead. With his tendency to jump too fast and fall too hard, he hesitates to comment on a timeline for them to become a couple. 

They stop at a corner and wait for the walk sign to grant them permission to cross the street, and Yoongi leans and smacks a kiss against Namjoon’s cheek, making Namjoon flinch and turn to find him smiling brightly. 

“We’ll get there,” Yoongi says. “And when we do, we’ll be the cutest in our couples outfits.”

Namjoon can’t help but grin. “Is that so?”

With a lift of his eyebrows, Yoongi nods. Namjoon resists the urge to kiss him silly—to say fuck it and ask him right in this moment if he would like to make it official. 

But the light changes and Yoongi takes his hand once more and tugs him across the street. It takes Namjoon a few steps to pick his feet up properly, and he stumbles as he traverses, doing his best to keep up. It could be the whiskey, but it is more likely Yoongi who is intoxicating him, and he does his best to get his balance. 

"Drunk, Joon?" Yoongi teases, glancing back when their feet hit the curb. 

Namjoon feels winded, like he has just run a marathon, and he tugs Yoongi close, pulling a low grunt from him. "You make me dizzy, hyung."

Yoongi sucks his lips between his teeth before releasing them with a shy smile. "Pretty sure that's from the whiskey."

With an adamant shake of his head, Namjoon lets his gaze trail from Yoongi's eyes, down to his lips, and back. "It's you."

Yoongi falters—hesitates as if he has something to say or do—but then he squeezes Namjoon's hand and continues to yank him along. They are already so close to Yoongi's apartment, Namjoon is starting to feel nervous. Nervous, but also more excited than he has been for anything before. 

As Yoongi's apartment comes into view just over a block away, Namjoon's hand starts to sweat. The night air is just chilly enough to make him shiver, but where Yoongi's palm rests snugly against his, the skin tingles with warmth. If Yoongi notices, he does not seem to mind, just holds Namjoon tightly, rubbing his thumb gently over his skin. Namjoon wonders if he is just as nervous. 

"I think it's nice how we paired off," Yoongi says softly. 

Namjoon glances at him, finding Yoongi looking ahead with a small smile on his lips. Yoongi turns briefly to lock eyes with Namjoon, and his smile widens.

"What do you mean?"

"Taehyung and Jeongguk. They're both younger and are very similar in personality. Eccentric. But sometimes, they're like the sun and the moon. Taehyung is bright and sweet, and Jeongguk is dark and moody."

Namjoon hums, smile tugging at his lips as he watches the sidewalk before him. 

"And then there's us," Yoongi continues, making Namjoon turn to look at him again. "I'm the Jeongguk and you're the Taehyung."

Namjoon chuckles and squeezes Yoongi's hand. "I was going to say the opposite."

"Really?" Yoongi asks through a chuckle.

"Remember how emo I was on date two? I feel like I'm the dark and brooding moon and you're the bright sun."

After a pause, Yoongi says softly, "So I'm the sun you seek."

This stops Namjoon in his tracks, turning to Yoongi as his heart pounds wildly in his chest. The thought has crossed his mind before, but it is such a large, profound thing to voice aloud that it takes Namjoon's mind a moment to catch up. 

"I suppose you are," Namjoon responds, voice breathier than usual.

Yoongi crowds Namjoon's space, gently taking him by the cheek and slotting their lips together. It is less of a kiss and more an exchange of oxygen, warm whiskey-sweet breath passing from one to another. 

"I hope I can continue to shine for you, then," Yoongi mutters against Namjoon's lips. 

Namjoon grins, eyes open and watching Yoongi's pretty lips. "I will need at least six hours of direct sunlight a day in order to thrive."

At this, Yoongi smiles widely in return, rubbing his blunt fingernails gently along the column of Namjoon's neck. "Only six?"

With a gentle peck to Yoongi's lips, Namjoon continues their trek, tugging him across the vacant street and to the steps of their destination. Yoongi takes the lead, unlocking the front door and tugging him along, toward the elevator. Once the silver doors slide closed, Yoongi steps in front of Namjoon and gently, firmly, shoves him into the corner, standing with his smirking lips only an inch away.

"Are you ready, Joon?"

Namjoon's pulse quickens, and he stares into Yoongi's eyes, doing his best to breathe. "I am," he responds through a shaky breath.

"Are you sure?"

The elevator dings, but Yoongi does not move, so Namjoon leans in, and captures Yoongi's bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking until the older whines. "I was the one who dropped to my knees earlier, remember?"

"I remember," Yoongi groans. 

The elevator doors begin to close and Namjoon steps forward, pushing Yoongi backward, so he can reach for the button to reopen them, crowding Yoongi's space. "Shall we?" 

Yoongi leans forward and smacks a loud kiss to Namjoon's lips before spinning and pulling him toward the apartment, causing Namjoon to stumble forward once again, simultaneously light and heavy on his feet as excitement vibrates from limb to limb. The familiar smell of citrus and cedar hits Namjoon's nose the moment Yoongi's door opens, and he takes in a deep breath as he crosses the threshold. 

Namjoon enters the apartment, steps from his shoes, and gently places them near the small pile of Yoongi's sneakers. Yoongi's tall boots have zippers up the side, and he wastes no time stepping out of them and tossing them aside. 

With a deep oof, Namjoon's back is pressed against the door, which closes loudly behind them, reminiscent of the first time he entered this apartment. Yoongi advances quickly, hands on Namjoon's neck and chest, pushing at skin and tugging at fabric as he kisses sloppy and eager. Namjoon melts against the door, slowly pushing at the collar of Yoongi's bomber jacket until the older helps him remove it—hands leaving Namjoon's chest only long enough for the garment to hit the floor. 

"I want you so badly," Yoongi whines into Namjoon's mouth, and Namjoon grins. 

"Really? I couldn't tell."

Yoongi yanks Namjoon away from the door from the collar of his jacket, forcing him to take a step forward just enough for him to shrug it away and let it hit the floor. He groans, "Shut up," against Namjoon's lips, making him chuckle. 

"So feisty," Namjoon teases, rubbing his palms over Yoongi's chest, feeling the metal bars under fabric. 

Yoongi hisses and hums from the touch, sparking Namjoon to rub his thumbs in circles over the hardened buds. More deep, dulcet sounds pour into Namjoon's mouth, and he has to fight the urge to turn into a puddle right there. 

"Is my hyung this sensitive?"

"F-feels good," Yoongi whines. 

Namjoon drops his hands to where Yoongi's shirt is tucked into his jeans, and he begins to tug. Yoongi complies, lifting his hands to allow Namjoon to yank the white fabric away, taking the beret with it. As the fabric falls to the floor and Yoongi's arms return to his sides, Namjoon takes in the sight of him. 

Pretty pale skin covered in flowers, snakes, and bones; taut, toned muscle; shiny metal accents. Yoongi is breathtaking. 

Namjoon grabs Yoongi by the belt loops and tugs him close, then bends and flicks his tongue over one of the nipple piercings. The deep, needy moan that falls from Yoongi's mouth is sinful, and Namjoon licks firmer, slower, warming the cold metal with his spit. 

Fingers brush through Namjoon's hair and grip, tugging gently at the strands, urging him not to stop. Namjoon drags his lips along the expanse of Yoongi's chest, leaving lazy wet kisses in his wake before his tongue finds the other nipple, flicking and teasing while Yoongi whimpers and groans. There is a faint, heady sweetness to Yoongi's skin, and Namjoon finds it addicting. 

"Let's go to my room, Namjoonah," Yoongi whines.

Namjoon teases Yoongi just a bit more, then straightens out. "What's the matter? Am I making you weak in the knees, hyung?"

Yoongi's pupils are blown, and there is a hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver through Namjoon. "Maybe you are."

Namjoon bends and wraps his arms around Yoongi's thighs, lifting him with ease, and Yoongi gasps and wraps his arms around Namjoon's neck. Carefully and slowly, Namjoon makes his way through the dark apartment with only the golden glow of streetlights filtering in from outside to guide him.

"Tell me the way, hyung."

Yoongi chuckles and nuzzles his face in Namjoon's neck. "Turn left, last door."

As Namjoon reaches a small entryway just past the living room, he notices a door to the right, a bathroom straight ahead, and, just to the left, a door at the end of the short hallway, on the right-hand side. 

Yoongi presses slow, wet kisses to Namjoon's neck as he approaches, tapping the door open gently with his toe, then Yoongi reaches for a switch on the wall as they enter, turning the light on just enough that they can see. The room is tidy, with more artwork on the walls like pieces in the living room. In the far corner is a bed covered in blood red and burgundy fabrics, and Namjoon carries Yoongi over, bends to set him down, and cages him in with his arms, hovering close. 

"You're wearing too much," Yoongi whines. 

Namjoon's heart flutters and his eyes drift down to Yoongi's pants and back up. "As are you, hyung."

With a somewhat petulant groan, Yoongi responds, "Do something about it."

Feeling playful, Namjoon stands and slowly begins unbuttoning the yellow lace shirt, watching as Yoongi gradually loses his composure and patience. With a huff, Yoongi sits up and reaches his long, tattoo-covered arms out, hooking his fingers in Namjoon's belt loops and yanking him closer.

Namjoon chuckles as Yoongi untucks the yellow lace shirt, shrugging it away and letting it hit the floor. Yoongi sits up tall, running his palms over Namjoon's stomach and pecs with a look of awe. The mesh shirt is tight, hugging Namjoon's curves in a way that made him incredibly shy earlier, when he was putting it on. Wearing it now, while Yoongi swoons openly, sparks excitement in Namjoon.

"Like what you see, pretty?"

Yoongi sighs, nibbling on his bottom lip. "You know I do."

"Want me to leave it on or take it off?"

Another sigh, "God, I don't know."

Namjoon can't help but laugh softly as he stares down at Yoongi with affection. It is too soon to be feeling strong feelings, and yet, all he wants is to take Yoongi gently by the face and shower him with words of love and adoration. Love. Namjoon feels his stomach swoop, making him a bit queasy, and he clears his throat and attempts to focus on how horny he is, instead. 

Luckily, Yoongi helps him get out of his head by rubbing against the rough mesh material, over Namjoon's nipples, sending a wave of pleasure through him that makes him gasp. 

"Fuck it," Yoongi grumbles, gathering the material of the flimsy shirt and pushing at it, "I want this off."

Namjoon aids Yoongi in his somewhat frantic attempt, grabbing the bottom hem of the shirt and slowly peeling it off, worrying for the sake of the fabric in his clumsy hands. He even struggles to get the tight material past his shoulders and elbows, and has to wiggle a bit until it is finally over his head, jingling the many chains that Taehyung had draped over his neck. When he is free of the garment, Yoongi paws at him, hands touching and groping his chest and abs. 

"Damn, Joon," Yoongi says softly. "You are so fucking hot."

"Pretty Yoongi has a thing for muscles?" Namjoon teases. 

Yoongi grips Namjoon by the hips, giving him a firm shove backward, and Namjoon stumbles a few steps back as Yoongi stands, so close he can feel the heat of his body. As Namjoon gets his bearings—suddenly tipped off his axis by Yoongi's proximity—Yoongi's hands fall to Namjoon's jeans, and he begins to undo the button.

"Pretty Yoongi has a thing for you," Yoongi responds, leaning so close Namjoon could easily press their lips together, if only he weren't so stunned where he stands.

"Is that so?" Namjoon asks in an attempt to be playful, though his voice cracks under the sudden pressure of being undressed by the man of his dreams. 

Yoongi smirks and hums, then begins to slowly push at the waistline of Namjoon's borrowed jeans. "May I?"

"You may," Namjoon all but whimpers.

As the pants slide past Namjoon's thighs, then fall the rest of the way to the floor, Yoongi wraps his arms over Namjoon's shoulders and begins to leave warm, slow kisses against his neck. 

"I want to repay the favor from earlier," Yoongi groans, voice deep and raspy. "And then I want to prep you nice and slow. Can you handle being overstimulated, Joon?"

Namjoon has absolutely no idea, and his exhale comes out shaky as he says, "I don't know. Maybe."

With a hum and a grin, Yoongi sinks back into a seated position on the bed and says, "Shall we find out?"

Suddenly, with Yoongi at crotch level, Namjoon feels anxious. He reminds himself that he has nothing to worry about—that he has already seen and sucked Yoongi's dick—but his head still swims with the possibility of his own dick being on display. 

Yoongi rubs his hands over Namjoon's thighs, then brushes a thumb over his growing bulge, and Namjoon whimpers softly as arousal sends blood flooding to that spot. With a satisfied hum, Yoongi leans forward and rubs his lips over Namjoon's growing erection, breathing warmth through the soft, tight fabric and sending a shiver up his spine. 

"I bet you get nice and big, don't you Joon?" Yoongi asks, dragging his lips against him.

"Yeah," Namjoon responds on a breathy exhale. "I get pretty big."

Yoongi nudges him gently with his nose. "Do you always bottom?" 

The light touches and warm breath have Namjoon practically panting, desperate for more. He shakes his head quickly, blinking heavily as he mutters, "No. I would do anything for you; you know that."

"Good." Yoongi smirks as he slides a hand up to Namjoon's dick, giving it a gentle squeeze that has Namjoon moaning.

Yoongi takes the waistband of Namjoon's briefs gently in his fingers and tugs down, letting Namjoon's heavy, hard cock spring out. With a gasp, Yoongi quickly abandons his task of undressing Namjoon and takes his cock in both hands, gently stroking his length while squeezing the head. Every nerve on Namjoon's body is alight with heat as arousal tingles in his core. Yoongi's large, pretty hands are warm and engulfing, delicate yet firm. 

"I bet you'll make my jaw sore really fast," Yoongi teases as he continues to gently stroke. "I can't wait."

Yoongi sits up straight, licking from Namjoon's balls up to the crown, and back down, teasing the tip of his tongue in tight circles. Namjoon lets out a gasp that becomes a groan and intently watches Yoongi, gaze traveling between his mouth and his eyes, which stare up at Namjoon. He practically breaks eye contact when Yoongi dips the very tip of his tongue into his slit, stretching him just enough to send a wave of pleasure breaking abruptly, making his eyelids flutter. 

"You're such a tease," Namjoon groans, reaching down to gently push his fingers into Yoongi's hair. 

With another devious smile, Yoongi mutters, "Sorry, Joonie. I'll be good to you, now," and takes Namjoon into his mouth, sucking him down until the tip of Namjoon's cock brushes against Yoongi's throat. 

Yoongi's mouth is warm and wet, with a hint of cold steel, and Namjoon tightens his fist around Yoongi's hair, not enough to tug too hard, but enough to make Yoongi groan. The vibration of Yoongi's voice along Namjoon's length makes him tremble and inadvertently rut deeper into Yoongi's mouth. Yoongi seems unbothered and does not gag, then he slowly draws his head back, eyes still watching Namjoon, as he pulls out completely.

"I don't think I can take it all," Yoongi pouts with spit-slick lips. 

"That's okay," is all Namjoon's horny, caveman brain can think of to say in response. 

"Did you masturbate today?"

This question catches Namjoon off guard, and he takes a moment before answering, "N-no."

"So you'll probably cum pretty fast?" Yoongi grins.

Namjoon nods. "Probably."

"And you might even give me a nice big load to swallow."

All Namjoon can do is swallow all the drool that has pooled in his mouth and stare down at Yoongi, who once again takes Namjoon's cock into his mouth as far as he can before the tip is brushing against the soft, tight flesh of his throat. The feeling is incredible, sending a tremble throughout Namjoon's body as his pleasure continues to build. 

Yoongi sucks in his cheeks and swallows, tightening around Namjoon before he slowly drags his lips back to the tip, only to suck him down again, nice and deep, and Namjoon legitimately fears that he may cum in absolutely no time at all. 

"Fuck, hyung," Namjoon whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them back up. "Feels so good."

Yoongi groans and hums as he continues to suck, building Namjoon's arousal to dangerous heights at a breakneck speed. If this is how good Yoongi's mouth feels, he can only begin to imagine how he will feel topping him. The prospect is nerve-wracking and sends a shiver quaking through him. Yoongi must interpret the shiver as Namjoon getting close, and he wraps a hand around the length that he cannot get into his mouth, using his drool as lubricant to gently twist. 

The wave of pleasure that bursts through Namjoon makes him whimper, and his entire body trembles. With his briefs tight around his thighs, Namjoon feels unstable on his feet and reaches down behind him with his free hand to shove at the fabric until it falls to the floor so he can widen his stance. 

Yoongi continues to suck his cheeks in and swallow hard around Namjoon, letting drool fall from between his lips. His eyes are closed as he focuses on his task, but when Namjoon takes a step with his right foot to the side, Yoongi opens his eyes and stares up at him through teary lashes. The sight is so sinful—so absolutely perfect—that Namjoon begins to plummet toward orgasm. 

With both hands, Namjoon takes Yoongi gently by the hair. He has to resist the urge to rock his hips, not wanting to push Yoongi too hard when he has established a perfect rhythm. But his hips do tremble with each deep suck, and Namjoon feels himself press into Yoongi's tight, velvety throat as his high builds. 

"You're gonna make me cum, hyung," Namjoon whimpers.

Yoongi hums and moans with each swallow and stroke of Namjoon's length, and the sound is all it takes to send him reeling. 

"Fuck, that's it," Namjoon groans. His entire body shudders and quakes at Yoongi's whim. "I'm so close. I'm s—"

Namjoon's head lolls back as he cums, spraying his release straight into Yoongi's throat while he continues to swallow around the tip. Orgasm quickly becomes overstimulation, and Namjoon begins to see stars as Yoongi milks him of his release.

"Hyung," Namjoon gasps, feeling the way Yoongi must have felt in the bathroom earlier, while tugging gently on Yoongi's hair, "you're gonna make me faint if you don't stop."

Yoongi chuckles as he pulls his head back and lets Namjoon's spent cock slip from between his pretty, sticky-slick lips. Tears have smudged the black makeup around Yoongi's eyes, and he smiles up at Namjoon looking very pleased with himself. 

"You did give me a nice big load to swallow," Yoongi says as he leans forward and flicks his tongue over the tip of Namjoon's dick, making him gasp and whine. Then, he licks his lips and rasps, "Such a good boy for me."

The bulge in Yoongi's jeans is noticeable, and Namjoon drops to his knees, wobbling a bit in the process, and rubs his hands up Yoongi's thighs. "You're still wearing too much clothing," he pouts as Yoongi leans back to let him undo his fly.

Namjoon makes sure to rub over Yoongi's erection as he unzips his pants, and Yoongi groans from each touch, watching with blown pupils and a sharp smile. Although he already went down on Yoongi less than an hour ago, there is a part of him that wants to do it again, and he licks his lips at the thought. Yoongi, however, has other plans, and he sits up, gently taking Namjoon by the wrists and stopping him from doing any more. 

"I assume you got bottom ready for me, baby?" Yoongi asks.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, feeling a surge of arousal go straight to his cock from the new nickname. "I did," he responds, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Good," Yoongi responds, then he releases Namjoon's hands and pats the bed beside him. "On your hands and knees, please."

Yoongi scoots to the side, giving Namjoon room, and Namjoon does as he is told, planting his hands on the mattress and climbing up onto his knees. He gets into place in the center of the bed, draping his arms over a pillow with his ass in the air, feeling extremely vulnerable but excited, and Yoongi stands then pushes his jeans to the floor, showing off a pretty black dragon tattoo that snakes down his hip and thigh. 

"God, you're a vision," Yoongi says as he steps out of the denim and kicks it aside. He gets onto his knees on the bed and grabs a handful of Namjoon's ass. "Just look at you."

Feeling playful, Namjoon wiggles his butt back and forth while Yoongi settles beside him, earning him a light spank, which makes him gasp and chuckle. 

"Taking a pierced cock can be quite painful for some," Yoongi says, looking Namjoon in the eye with a serious expression as he leans and grabs a bottle of lube from atop the bedside table. "I'm going to stretch you as much as I can before we start, and if you decide you can't handle the feeling, I can let my erection go down and change the metal jewelry out for softer silicone. Or, you can fuck me. Whichever you prefer."

Namjoon takes in all of the information, doing his best not to feel nervous about the possibility of it hurting. He did admit to enjoying a little pain, but clearly, this might be more than what he has bargained for.

"I want us to use the stoplight safe word system. Do you know that one?"

"Yes," Namjoon responds, voice sounding shakier than he expected. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "I say green to tell you that I am good, and red if I need to stop."

Yoongi reaches and places a hand on Namjoon's back, filling Namjoon with warmth as he rubs from his ribs to his shoulder and down to his hip. "And if you need me to stop for just a moment, you can say yellow."

Namjoon swallows a lump of nervousness. "Sounds good, hyung."

And with that, Yoongi gets onto the bed behind Namjoon, kicking Namjoon's heart into full swing, as the bed dips and two large, warm hands spread his ass. He hears Yoongi breathe—or maybe hum—before squeezing him, and his mouth falls open gently with a soft gasp.

"I've been waiting for this moment and now I feel lost in awe," Yoongi admits with a chuckle. 

Although the attention feels nice, Namjoon wonders if he might shrivel up and die from embarrassment if Yoongi continues to stare at his spread ass for too long. Never has someone wanted to sit and marvel at him before, and he feels incredibly exposed. But then he feels warm breath ghost over his taint, and he lets in a sharp inhale as his eyes flutter closed. 

Gently, softly, Yoongi swirls his tongue over Namjoon's rim. The sensation is so featherlight but warm, sending a shiver up Namjoon's spine that escapes him as a relaxing exhale. Namjoon allows his shoulders to droop and relaxes into the blood red pillow that is clutched beneath him as he waits in anticipation for what may come next. 

"Heaven," Yoongi groans, biting gently into the soft flesh of Namjoon's cheek and sucking the skin between his lips with a pop. "You fucking taste like heaven."

All Namjoon can do is whimper in response, finding it hard to wrap his head around Yoongi's voice or his words before his tongue is dragging over his hole slowly and firmly, making Namjoon tremble and moan. Suddenly, his insecurities fade, and all he is left with is the warm, wet drag of Yoongi's perfect tongue making him come undone. 

The feeling intensifies as the muscle dips inside, stretching Namjoon gently around it. Namjoon lets his lips drag over the soft, deep red pillowcase that smells like Yoongi's musk. He cannot believe he almost made himself wait to feel this pleasure for the sake of an arbitrary rule he had set for himself. Yoongi has barely gotten started, and already, Namjoon is on cloud nine.

A fingertip joins Yoongi's tongue and gently presses inside, giving Namjoon a firmer stretch. Namjoon moans and lets out a deep exhale, gripping onto the pillowcase tightly. Yoongi is slow as he pushes his finger in deep and pulls it back, allowing Namjoon to set a steady breathing pace. Bless the length of his fingers and those thick, knobby knuckles as Yoongi steadily fills him. 

"How do you feel, Joon?" Yoongi asks sweetly before lapping over Namjoon's stretched rim. 

"So good," Namjoon whimpers.

"Ready for another finger?"

"Yes, please."

The first finger exits, leaving Namjoon feeling dreadfully empty, and he hears the cap of the lube bottle pop open. Yoongi licks over his rim hungrily, taking Namjoon by surprise as his lips and tongue make a sloppy fucking mess of him. Pleasure builds, and Namjoon groans into the feeling, sinking further into relaxed bliss. Then, the sting of two fingers entering him replaces the warm tongue, and Namjoon squeezes the pillow as he is stretched further. 

"F-fuck," he whimpers, feeling a shiver rock through him. "S-so good."

A deep, pretty groan vibrates against Namjoon's skin as Yoongi drags his lips over his buttcheek, slowly prodding his fingers in and out a little further each time. 

"You are so good for me, Joonie."

Joy and affection burst and bloom in Namjoon's chest. All he wants in the present moment is to be so, so good for Yoongi.

Yoongi is unhurried and careful as he stretches Namjoon on two fingers, and then three. By the time Namjoon is adjusted around three, he is panting and sobbing with sweat pooling on his forehead. It has been a while since the last time someone fucked him, and everything little sensation is intense. 

As Yoongi begins to press a fourth finger in, Namjoon bites onto the pillow and cries out, practically screaming that he is green when his hyung asks so gently and calmly what color he is. 

Namjoon is easily overwhelmed by pleasure—feels like he might burst at the seams and explode—and Yoongi is so patient as he drags more and more from him with each pass and prod of his fingers. Yoongi's lips and teeth suck and nip at his skin, undoubtedly marking his ass like an animal print, and Namjoon whimpers and hisses from each feeling—everything feels like so much.

By the time Namjoon is adjusted to four of Yoongi's fingers, his cock is desperately hard against his tummy and dribbling streaks of precum. With a deep, devious giggle, Yoongi brushes his fingertip over Namjoon's prostate, and the jolt of white-hot sensation that sparks through him makes Namjoon speak in tongues, feeling far too close to cum and not wanting to just yet. 

"So pliant and good for me," Yoongi praises, littering his backside with kisses. "So tight and eager to be filled."

Namjoon has absolutely no idea what he fuck to say in response, so all he does is whimper and nod despite knowing Yoongi probably cannot see him. He is pliant and good and tight and eager to be filled. So, so eager. All for Yoongi.

As Yoongi slides his fingers from Namjoon's stretched hole, Namjoon lets out a large puff of air, able to breathe again but feeling so empty. Already, he longs for stimulation, missing the way Yoongi feels. The sound of the lube bottle popping open once more fills Namjoon with excitement, and he wonders if, finally, he will get to feel Yoongi's pretty, pierced cock.

Yoongi gives Namjoon's ass a playful smack. "Up, Joonie. I want you to ride me so you can be in control."

The very thought of being in any amount of control of his body weight and limbs feels overwhelming as Namjoon lifts himself onto his knees, feeling slightly embarrassed for the large drool spot that he has left on Yoongi's pillow. 

Yoongi crawls to the center of the bed, moving the pillows out of the way as he takes a seat against the wall. He strokes his hard length in one hand while giving Namjoon "come here" fingers with the other, and Namjoon notices the slickness of his fingers, feeling a swirl of arousal at the thought of those fingers being buried inside him. 

"You already look so fucked out," Yoongi teases as Namjoon crawls to him, straddling his legs. He feels fucked out already, and can only imagine the state of his hair. 

"Felt good," Namjoon grumbles almost petulantly, suddenly a bit shy about being teased by someone so dreadfully sexy.

Namjoon wants to stop and admire all the designs on Yoongi's skin, but he knows that this is not the time. He does, however, flick his tongue over one of Yoongi's nipples, smiling as Yoongi whimpers so sweetly. Spurred on to hear more pretty sounds, Namjoon gently sucks his pierced nipple between his lips, playing with the cold steel with his tongue. A shutter rocks though Yoongi, who gently takes Namjoon by the chin and pulls him away from his task.

"Joon, baby, I love the way your tongue feels," Yoongi grumbles with a knitted brow, "but I need you to sit on this cock before I go insane."

"Baby, hmm?" Namjoon asks as he lifts his head to slot Yoongi's lips between his.

Yoongi groans and lets his mouth fall open for Namjoon to explore. A faint, heady taste accentuated by the sweet flavor of lube can be detected, and Namjoon licks it up eagerly. He thinks he likes the way it sounds when Yoongi calls him baby. But, then again, Yoongi could call him anything and it would send the butterflies in his tummy into a frenzy. 

"I like it when you whine," Namjoon teases as he trails his lips down Yoongi's chin and neck, feeling some of his energy return. "Might have to make you beg some more."

Yoongi's hand wraps around Namjoon's cock, and he ruts into the feeling, unable to control the jerk of his hips. He feels Yoongi's pierced, lube-slick length thrust against his, and he whimpers as his forehead falls to Yoongi's shoulder. Slowly, Yoongi jerks the two of them, rolling his hips upward to rub their dicks in a dizzying motion. 

"Fuck," Namjoon groans into the junction of Yoongi's neck and shoulder. 

"What was that, baby?" Yoongi teases, voice breathy but controlled. "Were you saying something?"

"Not fair," Namjoon whimpers as he lifts his arms and drapes them over Yoongi's shoulders. 

"What's not fair?"

The slide of their cocks in Yoongi's hand makes Namjoon shiver. "Everything you do feels incredible."

Namjoon manages to sit up on Yoongi's lap and lets his eyes trail down his pierced and tattooed chest and stomach, to their dicks in his hand, both swelled and leaking with precum, and one with a big metal ring sticking from it. A finger taps the underside of Namjoon's chin, making him look up. 

"Come find out what else I can do, then," Yoongi says with a smile.

Yoongi releases their cocks and grabs the lube to slick himself back up as Namjoon plants his palms against the wall above Yoongi's head and sits high, hovering his ass until Yoongi is ready. With his fingertips, Yoongi smears lube over Namjoon's hole, making Namjoon groan, then he nods. 

"Ready when you are, Joon."

Namjoon reaches below him and takes Yoongi's cock at the base, gives it a little squeeze, then begins to lower himself. The feeling of the metal hoop through Yoongi's tip makes Namjoon shudder, and he jerks his hips upward before settling back down. 

"Cold," he mutters with a chuckle, glancing down to see Yoongi has his head tilted up and is watching his face. Namjoon smiles and mutters, "Hey."

"Hi there," Yoongi responds, nibbling on his lip ring. 

Slowly, Namjoon puts a little more weight down, gasping from the stretch that Yoongi's fingers did a decent job preparing him for. Namjoon lifts his hips slightly, then pushes a little further, feeling the drag of the hoop inside him. It's...strange. But also pretty good. 

But then, Namjoon feels the bar on the underside of Yoongi's cock tug at his rim, pulling almost uncomfortably, and he hisses, lifting his hips. Yoongi uses both hands to grab Namjoon's ass and spread him wide, and Namjoon lowers himself once more, determined to get past the jewelry.

"Careful," Yoongi gasps as Namjoon gently rocks his hips up and back downward. 

Namjoon tries again, but the tug is too much, and he lifts his hips once more, nearly boiling over with frustration. He wants to take Yoongi's cock so badly it makes his head spin. 

Yoongi sits forward slightly, reaching with his fingers to Namjoon's hole, and slowly begins to slide a finger inside, beside his cock head. Namjoon sobs from the feeling and does his best to keep still while Yoongi gently stretches him further, rocking his hips ever so gently, eager to be filled. Yoongi slips another fingertip in, sending stars bursting before Namjoon's eyes, then he gently thrusts until the piercing is past the rim and nestled inside Namjoon, using his fingertips as a shield from the steel balls. 

With the head of Yoongi's dick buried inside him, Namjoon relaxes into the feeling and begins to sink further. Both cold metal rings tug along his walls, and the feeling is just intense enough to make him nearly gasp with each movement. There is not much pain, but it is a bit uncomfortable, causing alarms to ring in his head despite his need to feel it deeper. 

"Take it slow, baby," Yoongi urges through grunts.

Namjoon had been completely spaced out, staring at the wall, but he blinks and makes eye contact with Yoongi, bringing his pretty, blushed face into view and feeling his heart soar. 

"I'm good, hyung. It feels—" Namjoon moans, sinking further down, "—feels kinda weird but also s-so good."

Silence falls between them as Yoongi stares up at Namjoon, who does his best to settle on his lap and allow himself to properly adjust. Namjoon begins to feel shy under his unwavering gaze—feels blush creep to his cheeks as he softly asks, "What?"

Something gentle and sweet flashes in Yoongi's eyes, and he blinks as his pretty lips tug into a smile. "You're just incredible," he says like it is nothing, and Namjoon feels his tummy do a backflip. 

The only thing he can do in this moment to keep himself from professing deep, intense feelings way too soon, is kiss Yoongi on the forehead, lift his hips, and slam them down. The drag of the metal on Yoongi's thick, perfect dick makes Namjoon tremble. Somehow, the intensity of the sensation feels like he is being crushed under some kind of weight, and he falls forward with his head on Yoongi's shoulder to catch his breath.

"Okay, wow," Namjoon mutters. "Why does it feel like so much?"

Yoongi chuckles and leaves a kiss on Namjoon's neck that makes him shiver. "Want some help, Joon?"

Namjoon nods his head, muttering, "Please," as he lifts his hips enough to give Yoongi some room to move. Yoongi cradles Namjoon's ass in his palms as he slowly begins to thrust up into him, not as deep as he could, but enough to make Namjoon whimper and curse and groan, eager for more despite it feeling like a lot, all the while Yoongi sucks and kisses at his shoulder and neck.

"How is that, baby?"

Namjoon's words come out breathy and weak. "F-feels amazing."

"Want me to keep doing this, or do you want me to fuck you?"

And, in this moment, Namjoon thinks he has never been so sure of anything in his life as he perks his ass out just a little more and says, "Fuck me, hyung."

Yoongi slams his hips upward, causing Namjoon to practically scream. The sound that leaves his mouth is pitchy and lewd, and it would make him feel embarrassed if Yoongi did not continue to piston his cock upward, hitting every spot inside him that makes him absolutely unravel. 

Instantly, Namjoon sees stars. He leans forward, nuzzling into Yoongi's neck while the top of his head bumps into the wall, and he drools and sobs. Yoongi fills him so perfectly, and the piercings send him over the edge while his own cock slaps against his stomach, leaving a small splatter of precum in its wake. Namjoon thinks he could cum just like this, with his hands gripping onto Yoongi's hair and his body being used like a doll.

But Yoongi has other plans. With one hand, Yoongi reaches between them and strokes Namjoon's cock, sending a wave of pleasure so intense—so white-hot—Namjoon loses track of his senses, suddenly unsure whether sound and space truly exist. Namjoon sucks against pink peonies on Yoongi's neck while doing his best to lift and drop his ass in perfect rhythm of his thrusts, terrified to already come undone when he feels like Yoongi is only getting started. 

"Want you overstimulated," Yoongi groans, voice broken on the edges from pleasure. "Sound good, baby?"

"Y-yes, hyung."

"Good," Yoongi says as he squeezes Namjoon's dick, sending him plummeting over the edge. 

Namjoon's back arches, and he changes posture to sit straight and let his head fall back. In this position, Yoongi leans forward and clamps his lips on one of Namjoon's nipples, causing another jolt of pleasure to join the electrical current running through his limbs. He is mere moments from falling apart completely. 

"Gonna cum, hyung," Namjoon whimpers as he lifts and slams his hips to match Yoongi's rhythm and chase his high. 

Yoongi's hips somehow piston even harder, and it takes no time at all for Namjoon to spray his release on Yoongi's fist, which continues to stroke and squeeze. Namjoon shudders through his orgasm, moaning and sobbing as his high begins to dissipate and he enters the realm of overstimulation. He practically begs for mercy when Yoongi slows his hips and wraps his arms around his waist. 

"Sit up baby, but don't pull out." 

Namjoon does as he is told, whimpering as he sits high on his knees so Yoongi can shift below him, going from a fully seated position to also on his knees, one leg at a time. 

"So good for me," Yoongi grumbles as he lazily drags his lips over Namjoon's chest while he readjusts. "I want you on your back. Can you do that for me, Joon?"

Namjoon nods and waits for Yoongi to begin to move, then drops his arms behind him and slowly begins to lower himself to the mattress with Yoongi's cock buried inside him. The feeling is strange and overwhelming, and Yoongi cradles him until his back hits the soft red comforter. 

It almost feels humiliating the way Yoongi grabs his thighs and spreads them, draping his legs over his shoulders and towering over him with a look of pure lust in his eyes. Namjoon considers asking for a break, but as Yoongi slowly pulls his hips back and rolls them forward, the drag is incredible, sending blood rushing back to his cock with a wave of overwhelming pleasure that makes him whimper.

"Too much, baby?" Yoongi asks in almost a mocking tone. 

Namjoon nods and whines, "Uh-huh."

"Color?"

With a sigh, Namjoon responds, "Green," because he truly does want more. 

Yoongi pulls his hips back and snaps them forward, slapping the metal ring that hangs below his cock against Namjoon's taint, which he finds surprisingly satisfying. Namjoon feels so full and so completely at Yoongi's mercy as he stretches his arms above his head and allows himself to sink into the feeling. Several more powerful thrusts have tears forming in his eyes, and when Yoongi leans forward, Namjoon feels so full it punches the air from his lungs. 

It takes no time at all for Namjoon's cock to be hard and leaking, slapping against his tummy, and Yoongi grabs onto it and rolls his hand over the leaking tip, making Namjoon sob. It also takes no time at all for him to cum a third time, and when he does, it hits so hard, his cries are silent, punctuated by sobs as he gasps to catch his breath, clawing at the blanket beneath him.

"Color, baby? Can you handle one more?"

Namjoon is absolutely certain that if he tries to cum again, he might actually die, but the feeling is so good, he wants nothing more than to be perfect for his hyung. 

"Green," he mutters, feeling his heart flutter when Yoongi smiles down at him so pretty. 

Yoongi slows his hips to a gentle roll and reaches for the bedside table, first for a hair tie to get the hair out of his face—tying it into a half top-knot that makes Namjoon swoon and want to cry—and then, for more lube, which he dribbles directly onto Namjoon's stretch hole, grinning as the cold liquid makes Namjoon thrash and squeal.

"How do you have so much fucking stamina?" Namjoon whines as Yoongi slowly drops Namjoon's legs to the side and leans forward to suck on his bottom lip as he begins to slowly pick up his pace. 

"You made me cum earlier, remember?" Yoongi groans against his lips.

Oh, Namjoon remembers. How could he possibly forget his first time dropping to his knees in a public bathroom?

Yoongi takes his time getting Namjoon hard and fucking him through his fourth orgasm. As soon as Namjoon begins to cum, Yoongi kisses him deeply, sucking the sounds from his mouth while whimpering that he is close. The cadence of Yoongi's voice when it becomes pitchy and desperate is music to Namjoon's ears, and he wraps his arms around him to hold him close, feeling Yoongi tremble in his arms as he fills him with his release. 

They stay like this for a while, with Yoongi nestled deep inside him, twitching from time to time as Namjoon squeezes around him, eager to milk him of every drop. Namjoon feels fucked out, sore, and exhausted, and he holds Yoongi close planting soft, lazy kisses all over him while Yoongi smiles and grumbles and tells him how perfect he is. 

"I've never been fucked that good in my life," Namjoon praises softly, and he means it; in this moment, he cannot remember anyone making him feel half as good. 

Yoongi chuckles and holds him close. "Good. I want to make you feel amazing."

"You do. I love—" Namjoon hesitates, feeling heat rise to his cheeks, "—uh, l-loved it."

He curses himself for using the word love and squeezes his eyes closed, but Yoongi just nuzzles impossibly closer and hums a deep, happy sound. 

"Good," Yoongi responds, slowly sitting up with a smile. "Let's clean off and then go to bed."

As consciousness slowly creeps into the hazy confines of what is leftover from sleep, the first thing Namjoon feels is disoriented. The second thing he feels is a bit sore. 

Namjoon cracks an eye open and looks around, remembering the room he is in. Next, he remembers the red comforter he fell asleep tucked under, and then the man he held tight as he drifted to calm darkness. With a smile, Namjoon rolls from his back to the right, lifting an arm gently with the intention of wrapping it back around his hyung. However, when he rotates, he is greeted by only an unoccupied pillow.

With a sigh, Namjoon returns to his back and stretches his arms over his head, knocking his knuckles against the cold wall while he yawns widely. As he begins to feel more awake, the smell of coffee wafts into the room, and if he listens closely, he can hear small sounds coming from the other room. Namjoon considers getting up and joining Yoongi in the kitchen when he remembers the attire he had worn last night. He does not exactly want to get dressed in Taehyung's clothing again.

But the promise of coffee—and of seeing Yoongi—is too enticing, so Namjoon gets out of bed, shivering as the air greets his skin, and finds his briefs. Perhaps the sight of him in nothing but his tight underwear will be a welcome sight for Yoongi. 

Namjoon finds the garment on the floor and grabs it, putting it on, one leg after the other and squatting to get everything in the right spot. Then, he makes his way down the short hallway, walking slowly and quietly with the hope of catching the sight of Yoongi dancing around the kitchen while he gets his morning started. Instead, when he turns the corner, he finds Yoongi leaning against the counter, anchored on his elbows, with his hands threaded through his hair. His posture screams stress or exhaustion, and anxiety drops to Namjoon's guts like a brick. 

Suddenly, Namjoon wishes he had not just come tip-toeing out in his undies. What if this is not the sight that Yoongi wants to see? He even considers backing up and retreating to the bedroom, but Yoongi must sense his presence, and he looks up. At first, Yoongi looks surprised, but then a smile spreads, and his gaze softens. He wears a large white tee, and he holds his hand out, beckoning Namjoon closer.

"You're naked," Yoongi grumbles, voice raspier than usual.

"Didn't want to put Tae's clothes back on," Namjoon responds as he approaches and joins Yoongi in the kitchen.

"Well, I'm not complaining," Yoongi says as he straightens out and rounds the counter. His shirt goes down to his thighs, and he has no pants underneath. Namjoon wonders if he has anything underneath at all.

"Was I interrupting something?" Namjoon asks hesitantly, trying to cover his nerves.

Yoongi shakes his head. "I wanted to give you some space in case you needed it."

With Yoongi close enough to reach out and grab, Namjoon does just that. "Don't want space," he mutters as he leans to place a kiss against Yoongi's temple. 

"You sure?" Yoongi asks. 

Namjoon detects a hint of uncertainty and wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist, hugging him close. "I'm sure."

With a deep, heavy sigh, Yoongi pulls Namjoon into a hug and litters kisses against his throat and neck, making Namjoon chuckle quietly. It tickles and it feels really nice. 

"I have to work in a few hours," Yoongi mutters against his skin. "Got a couple of appointments."

"Wow," Namjoon teases, "just gonna fuck me and kick me out." He pulls Yoongi impossibly closer, burying his face in thick, soft, dark hair as he grumbles, "You men are all the same."

Yoongi shakes from laughter and nips at Namjoon's neck until he jumps and attempts to pull from the hug. Held in place with Yoongi's arms, Namjoon has no choice but to wiggle around as Yoongi nips at his skin. 

He likes this. Standing in Yoongi's kitchen in the quiet of the morning, still a bit delirious from sleep and from a night of the best sex of his life. He likes being practically naked, wrapped in the warmth of Yoongi's arms, comfortable in his skin. This is something Namjoon thinks he could get used to. And this is even something he anticipates craving the moment he finds himself back in his own home, alone.

"If you aren't sick of me, maybe we could meet after?" Yoongi suggests. He continues to hold Namjoon tight, tickling his neck with his lips, which drag with every syllable. The vibration of Yoongi's voice against his chest is comforting. 

Namjoon smiles. "Imagine being sick of you."

"Yeah? You want to see me again?"

"See you again?" Namjoon asks incredulously, pulling back just enough to look Yoongi in the eye. "I want to recreate last night as much as possible. I have never been taken care of so well in my life."

Yoongi's eyes fall from Namjoon's gaze and trail around the room, and Namjoon swoons over his sudden shyness. "Please, Joon. I'm sure it wasn't that life changing."

Although he knows Yoongi is just being modest, Namjoon feels somewhat offended that he would brush his skills off so easily. It really was top-tier, in terms of how he has been fucked in the past. But he chuckles and lets it go. Perhaps Yoongi is too grumpy in the morning to be reasoned with, so he concedes to allowing him to lie to himself about his performance. There will always be future fucks to gush about, he hopes.

The rest of the morning is slow and easy. He sips coffee with Yoongi before putting on a tee and some sweatpants that Yoongi claims he drowns in, which are still a bit too small for Namjoon. Namjoon kisses Yoongi goodbye and strolls leisurely back to his apartment, feeling a pep in his step despite the slight limp. Then, he gets back to his place, showers, tends to work emails for several hours, before making plans to see Yoongi again later. 

Namjoon Hey, JK! Do you happen to know what time Yoongi should be off tonight?

Jeonggukie 🐰 His last appointment is at 3, so he will probably close up around 6. 

Namjoon Are you in tonight? 

Jeonggukie 🐰 Yes, and yes, I can stall him until you get here, but don't be late! He'll suspect something is up. Come between 5:30 and 5:45.

Namjoon Thanks, Gguk!

Jeonggukie 🐰 You have my hyung smiling like an idiot this afternoon. I take it you had a good night?

Namjoon We did. Hyung also has me smiling like an idiot today.

Jeonggukie 🐰 Good. I really like you two together. I haven't seen him this happy in a long time. 

Namjoon gets to the tattoo shop around 5:45 PM holding a bag of sweets from the café he and Taehyung stopped at several days ago before he came for a tattoo. As the door chimes, signifying his entry, he watches Yoongi twist with a scowl and shout, "We're closing!" before realizing it is him. 

"Sure you don't have time to pencil me in?" Namjoon teases as he makes his way through the lobby of the shop and leans against the counter. 

Jeongguk stands from the chair at his workstation, and waves at Namjoon with a wide, welcoming smile. He is dressed in his standard all black everything with his hair flopping around in large curls at the end, and he looks adorable as he prances over and mutters, "Perfect timing," before announcing that he is done for the night and heading out. 

Yoongi waves Jeongguk off, telling him to lock up, and Jeongguk closes the blinds and does as he is told while Yoongi continues organizing something at his station, all the while Namjoon watches him work. He wears a black hoodie and looks so cozy, Namjoon wants to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. 

"I was wondering why he wouldn't just leave," Yoongi finally says, glancing up with a grin. Then, he lifts a hand and beckons Namjoon closer. "Get over here."

Namjoon leaves the bag of sweets behind and rounds the desk, approaching Yoongi's workspace, and when Yoongi pats the leather exam table, Namjoon has a seat. Without a word, Yoongi rolls up the denim leg of Namjoon's pants to have a look at his tattoo, then puts on a black latex glove and grabs a small jar of crème.

"Looks good," Yoongi says with a soft smile as he dips a finger into the crème and begins to rub it over his sunflower. 

It is cold against Namjoon's skin, and it feels really nice. Already, some of the ink is beginning to scab, which has become a little itchy, and the crème instantly soothes it.

"So," Yoongi says as he pulls the glove off with a snap. "Did you come in so I could finally pierce your ears? Or were you hoping I would bend you over this table and fuck you?"

Arousal floods Namjoon, making him feel shy, and he lets out a soft chuckle as Yoongi stands before him and crowds his space, pushing his legs spread so he can lean in for a kiss. 

"I was j-just coming in to say hi," Namjoon mutters against Yoongi's soft, pretty lips. 

Yoongi hums, sucks on Namjoon's lip, and asks, "Are you sure? You brought something with you, what is it?"

"Just some sweets from the café."

Another hum from Yoongi's pretty mouth as he says, "You're the only sweet treat I need, silly. Sure you didn't come in looking for another spur of the moment modification?"

To his own surprise, Namjoon wonders if, perhaps, getting his ears pierced would be nice. He is curious about the way a needle might feel, and he has been on quite an impulsive streak, lately. Not to mention, Yoongi told him some piercings would look good.

"Maybe I should let you pierce me, hyung," Namjoon responds, watching as excitement widens Yoongi's eyes and smile. 

Yoongi taps the tip of his nose against Namjoon's and stands back far enough to glance at his ears. "I bet the boys would agree that you'd be stunning."

"Yeah? Should we ask them?"

Namjoon pulls out his phone and begins to text Taehyung, then Jeongguk, despite assuming that they are already with each other. Taehyung mentioned earlier that he would be waiting for Jeongguk to get off work, and even threatened Namjoon's life if he showed up to the shop late, delaying Jeongguk's arrival. Although Namjoon laughed off Taehyung's dramatics at the time, he totally gets it; he was incredibly eager to see Yoongi again from the moment he left his apartment this morning. 

Yoongi leans in to see what the guys are saying and cocks his head to the side. "Why does Taehyung have a present emoji next to his name?"

Namjoon laughs. "Oh, this. Uh, yeah that's actually a tradition Taehyung started. He claimed that each message from me was a gift, and insisted I never change it. And then, from there, I began to save people's names with an emoji that signifies my impression of them. Jeongguk has a bunny, because of his cute front teeth."

"Do I have one?" Yoongi asks softly, and Namjoon thumbs out of his chat with Taehyung to find his chat with Yoongi. 

"You do," Namjoon admits with a shy smile. "But I was actually thinking about changing it. 

"Oh?"

Namjoon opens their chat and lets Yoongi see his name with a sunflower next to it, and Yoongi smiles softly but then looks confused. "Why would you change it?"

As Namjoon opens the edit page and deletes the sunflower, he thumbs through the list of emoji, looking for the more appropriate one, saying "Because I'm the sun seeker, remember?" And then he selects the new emoji and hits save, turning it to Yoongi so that he can see the new name at the top of the screen, which reads "Yoongi 🌞"

Before Yoongi can swoon too hard, Namjoon receives emphatic texts from both boys, urging him to get his ears pierced. And so, it is settled. Namjoon is once again going to do something he never thought he would, and allow Yoongi to modify him a second time. 

Yoongi wastes no time setting up a small station, and marking Namjoon's ears. He even puts paper padding down on the table for Namjoon to sit on, joking that it is there just in case the pain from the piercing turns him on too much and he needs to be taken care of, making Namjoon chuckle.

Although Namjoon agrees to the placement of the dots, he is too tingly with adrenaline and trusting that Yoongi will do the right thing, so he says yes and allows Yoongi to continue without any fuss. They decide on some silver hoops that will hang just a bit below Namjoon's lobe, and then Namjoon hugs the cloth-wrapped pillow tightly as Yoongi begins to line up the needle on the first lobe.

"Take a deep breath," Yoongi says softly, and Namjoon does as he is told. "And breathe out."

As Namjoon exhales, Yoongi punctures his ear with the needle, sending a wave of adrenaline through him—the pain is intense for a very split moment, and then it settles into warmth. The sight and smell of Yoongi's presence does not help the sudden bubbling of desire from the pain, and Namjoon grips onto the edge of the paper-covered leather table with one hand as he squeezes his eyes closed and hisses. He thought Yoongi might be joking when he made the comment about this being a turn on, and now he thinks he might just be onto something. 

"One more pinch," Yoongi informs. "Gonna slide the needle out and put the jewelry into place."

The feeling of the metal sliding through his lobe nearly makes Namjoon shiver, and he bites his lip as Yoongi hums and gently pushes the ring through and adjusts it. 

"How do you feel, Joon?" Yoongi asks, and Namjoon opens his eyes to find him smiling. 

Namjoon's lips are parted as he catches his breath, and he knows that there is an expression of desire painted across his face, judging by the way Yoongi studies him.

"That good, huh?" Yoongi teases, and Namjoon nods. "You look great, baby." 

Yoongi moves in for a kiss, careful not to touch him with his gloved hands but still making Namjoon whimper. He may have been somewhat entertaining the idea of allowing Yoongi to fuck him in his shop, but now he wants it more than anything. 

"Onto number two," Yoongi says as he straightens out and grabs his needle from its spot on a paper towel that has been laid out on the small metal supply table. 

Namjoon attempts to ignore the flow of blood to his dick as Yoongi lines up the second needle and tells him to inhale, but as soon as it pierces Namjoon's ear, sending a rush of pain through him, Namjoon groans, trembling from the feeling. 

"That was borderline pornographic, baby," Yoongi teases. "You do like a little pain, hmm?"

"Yes, hyung," Namjoon gasps as Yoongi pulls the needle through, threading the jewelry into his ear and putting it into place. As soon as Yoongi is finished, Namjoon grabs his gloved hand and presses it over his growing erection, whining, "I like it a lot."

Yoongi wastes no time ripping his gloves off and tugging at Namjoon's jeans to get him to stand. Before he can get his bearings, his fly is open and Yoongi is spinning him around, shoving him into the exam table. Namjoon falls forward against the protective paper that covers the leather as Yoongi yanks his jeans and briefs down, and spreads him wide. 

"This what you need, Joonie?" Yoongi teases as he licks a stripe over Namjoon's hole, making him fall forward and tremble through a moan. Yoongi's tongue is divine as he laps over Namjoon, devouring him.

"Y-yes, god yes," Namjoon moans, bent and eager for Yoongi to do absolutely anything he pleases. It takes a lot of effort on Namjoon's part to pull his long-sleeve t-shirt over his head, and he drapes himself over the table as soon as he does, feeling the cool air of the shop hit his skin and give him goosebumps.

Yoongi stretches Namjoon open quickly, producing a bottle of lube from his desk that he jokes he bought on the way to work this afternoon, anticipating Namjoon coming in begging to be fucked one of these days. And this is just another item on the list of impulsive acts that Namjoon cannot believe he is doing as Yoongi rubs lube-slick fingers over his hole, making him practically scream out into the empty tattoo shop. It takes no time at all for Namjoon to be stretched and begging for his cock. 

This time, when Yoongi slowly pushes his cock inside, he spreads Namjoon nice and wide and eases the metal jewelry past Namjoon's rim without too much discomfort. In fact, Namjoon is still high from the adrenaline of his own piercings, and the additional hint of pain sends him hurtling toward pleasure and he welcomes the hint of discomfort. His cock is pressed between his tummy and the exam table, and when Yoongi thrusts in deep, filling Namjoon just the way he likes, Namjoon melts into the feeling with a sob. 

"Stand for me, baby," Yoongi commands, and Namjoon scrambles to anchor himself up onto his hands and get into a standing position. Yoongi wraps an arm around Namjoon's chest and grabs onto his throat, holding him in place. "Now I can show you what these piercings in my dick are really for."

When Yoongi pulls back and thrusts forward, both metal rings graze over Namjoon's prostate, sending a dizzying, intense wave of arousal crashing through him. He whimpers, "Oh, fuck," as Yoongi thrusts again and again, picking up a pace that has Namjoon's head spinning and his arms dangling at his sides. 

It takes no time at all for Namjoon to hurtle toward orgasm. He claws at the paper on the exam table, falling forward in Yoongi's arms and speaking in tongues with desperate, incoherent sounds bursting through his lungs and lips. Yoongi gently eases Namjoon down and spreads his ass wide as he picks up a brutal pace, moaning his own string of pitchy, whiny noises as his hips begin to lose rhythm.

"Shit, baby, I won't last," Yoongi groans, digging his fingers into Namjoon's ass. "You feel so good squeezing me."

A blessing, truly, because Namjoon is certain he will fucking die if Yoongi makes him cum more than once today. Yoongi thrusts harder and faster, making Namjoon sob as his cock grinds into the table below him. Trembles quake through him as he cums, and Yoongi follows behind quickly, pulling out and spraying the cleft of Namjoon's ass with his release. 

As Namjoon lies against the table with his own release turning sticky and cold against his chest and belly, Yoongi slides out, pulling another shockwave and moan from him. He stays put as Yoongi cleans himself up, attempting to catch his breath, and Yoongi returns with a warm, wet paper towel and carefully wipes his mess from Namjoon, then Namjoon stands and takes the towel so he can clean his own mess from his abs.

Before he can bend and pull his pants up, Yoongi captures his face between both hands, humming into a kiss. "Did that feel good baby?" he has the audacity to ask, making Namjoon blush.

"You know it did," he mutters against Yoongi's lips, smacking a nice loud kiss against his lips before bending to dress himself. 

"We should make a habit of this," Yoongi says as he begins to strip the protective paper covering off the leather table and cover the surface with cleaning spray.

"Yeah?" Namjoon asks, feeling flowers burst and bloom behind his ribs, stretching tall and thriving under the warmth of Yoongi's sun. 

"Yeah," Yoongi says, setting down his spray bottle and approaching Namjoon for another kiss. "Let me take you out. You can stay at my place. We'll have the sweets you brought for breakfast in the morning. And then, we can do it over and over again. Sound good?"

Namjoon wraps his arms around Yoongi's waist, nuzzling the tips of their noses together. "Is this your way of asking me to be your boyfriend, hyung?"

Yoongi grins, cheeks turning a pretty hint of pink. "Will you? I know it's still really soon, but—"

"Of course I will," Namjoon says, cutting Yoongi off and punctuating with a kiss.

Yoongi smiles as they slot their lips together and groans into his mouth. He wraps his arms tightly around Namjoon's neck, and they kiss nice and slow as Namjoon savors Yoongi the way he deserves.  

"Good," Yoongi mutters as their lips part just enough to allow them to breathe in each other's air. "I'm already beginning to fall for you. I can't get enough."

With a deep, happy sigh, Namjoon pulls Yoongi tighter and nuzzles against his neck, inhaling his sweet musk and littering soft kisses against tattooed skin. 

"The feeling is mutual, hyung," he admits with his eyes closed and his heart so warm and full of affection. 

Namjoon never used to do impulsive. He was measured and intentional. Being impulsive felt terrifying. 

But standing in Yoongi's arms, accepting a proposition to jump into something new so quickly, Namjoon thinks he can find new ways of being measured and intentional without holding back. Impulsivity no longer feels terrifying in Yoongi's arms. It feels freeing. 

you have no idea how much i have missed these two, and how good it feels to finally get to wrap up this story. apologies for taking so long! the tail end of 2022 was a whirlwind.

please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators!

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Sun Seeker is copyright 2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

[broadwayandnetflix]

OMG- BO FIC REQUEST

a fluffy fic where he takes you out to a fancy dinner. picks you up at your house & meets your parents, driving to the place, all that pizazz- and more if you decide to write! Im a big fucking sucker for the romantics as you can see LMFAO.

Meet The Parents - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff! Slight bit of Angst.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: picture this as like his what tour cause it fits up with the college timeline hoes. also, I hope you like that I added an airport, cause rom-com shit amirite? I’ll stop. wooooooo this is so long. I hope y’all like essays cause fuck.

It had been too long since you had last seen your boyfriend, Bo. The two of you had met in college at NYU briefly before he dropped out to pursue his comedy career.

Of course, you have been supportive. Why wouldn’t you be? You just really missed him, especially when he went on long tours, you in school, and him touring the world.

The two of you kept in touch. Bo often taking the time to call you before or after a show to hear your voice and call himself down. You knew what they did to his anxiety, and not being able to hold each other was difficult for the both of you.

He’d do the same for you, without a shadow of a doubt. Especially when school was stressing you out, and exams and essays were becoming a pain in the ass to handle. Even if it was just little funny texts or messages, he helped you.

It’s what you did for each other. You were a team, even if it was states away from each other. Except, luckily for you, his tour was ending soon. Or it should be, judging by the tiny calendar of dates that he gave you.

It was nearing Thanksgiving Break, and it just didn’t seem applicable that you’d be able to meet up in time. Given the short week window and Bo riding down from nearly a year of touring.

So you didn’t say much, as you packed your bags for the week and left for your home state.

The airplane ride wasn’t that bad. You wished that you had Bo beside you, cracking jokes to calm the inevitable way that your heart would jolt when you went up in the air. Unlike Bo, you absolutely hated flying.

Earbuds in, you strolled into the airport a tad bit jet-lagged and went to grab a bite from a small coffee shop. Slipping the cashier a twenty, you walked the airport in search of your luggage.

Through a sea of people, you trudged, already feeling fatigued and just wanting a nap. You didn’t even realize that you were gonna run smack dab into someone. That is until their hand shot up and held you steady.

You laughed pathetically and cringed quickly, going to apologize, hoping that the person who caught you would just keep moving on. Except, they still stood in front of you, silent as ever.

“Hey man look I’m so sorry, I’m just so tired I didn’t even see where I was going.” you mumbled before realizing just who you were speaking to.

Bo.

You froze, staring at the man in pure confusion. How was he here when he was supposed to still be on tour? You rubbed your eyes, wondering if he’d still be there when you reopened them.

News flash, Bo was still there. Fuck.

“Holy shit,” you murmured, realizing your hands were still full with your bag, phone, and lunch.

God, you were gonna cry; this wasn’t happening. He looked so fucking good, the glasses, the hair.

He watched you quietly, a soft smile resting upon his lips. While you clumsily pull on his arm to get out of the ongoing traffic of people around you, preferably a spot with a place to put your stuff.

Your tall boyfriend lumbering after you unbeknownst to you, trying to compose himself. It had practically been months since he had seen you last, and you had never looked more beautiful.

Once you set them down gently, you practically ran into the man’s arms. His bags gently fall to the floor as his arms are securely wrapped around you. Nearly lifting you off the ground.

The two of you rocked gently in the embrace, completely lost in each other. Bo resting his head on top of yours, pressing soft kisses upon your head. Tears softly pour down your cheeks and onto his shirt. Giving him enough time to wipe them away and plant a soft kiss against your lips.

“Bo, what are you doing here? I thought you were still on tour.” you sniffled, still wrapped up in his arms.

“Managed to make things work, I wanted to see you. Or I was gonna try and surprise you at the gate, but you kinda…ran into me.” Bo smirked, looking down at you.

“Well you definitely surprised me, man I really missed you.” you said quietly.

“Honey, you don’t understand how long I’ve waited for this moment. I swear my agents are probably sick and tired of me talking about you.” he exclaimed, causing you to smile.

This long-distance was really starting to get to the two of you; of course, his tour was gonna be over soon. Except, especially two different states away from each other, it made your heart hurt.

Moments like these, you wanted to just pause the time and exist in them forever. It seemed like between the two of you, you were running out of time. Just how much time exactly?

It was almost as if he could sense the hesitation as he swept up his bags and yours in the process.

“Just realized, we’ve got places to be.” he chirped, and you eyed him curiously.

“Like where?” you said, grabbing your coffee and bag from the coffee shop.

“Patience is a virtue my dear.” he tuts and slips his hand between yours. “Now, where’s your luggage terminal?”

-

It was roughly a forty-minute drive from the airport to your place. Bo had rented a car for the next couple of days, so it was smooth sailing from that point on.

Bo behind the wheel, and you are sitting in the passenger trying to figure out what music to play.

It didn’t help that you were in the car with a comedian, as whatever song you picked, Bo would pretend to critique it. Only sending you into a fit of hysterics.

“Oh okay, well you pick the music then!” you cried, pretending to stare daggers at him.

“I’ve got something for you, it’s this brand new artist I found while on tour.” he grinned, looking over at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

“His name is….Bo Burnham I think? I could be wrong? He was good-“ he said nonchalantly before earning a quick swipe to his arm from you.

“God, you look cute when you’re angry. You’re missing out on that Bo Burnham guy, he’s got potential.” he said.

“I hate you.” you giggle before finding a more comfortable position in the car.

“Oh shit you know what I just realized?” Bo yelped, causing you to slightly jolt in your seat.

“What?”

“Isn’t this the first time I’m meeting your parents?” he asked, causing you to slightly stiffen in your seat.

Technically, yes. It wasn’t like your parents didn’t know, it’s more so that there was never really a good time for them to meet. You wondered what they’d think, dating someone who dropped out of college to pursue comedy.

Not that your parents were judgmental. They wanted you to be happy, as any parents would. You just were worried if they wouldn’t respect and love Bo as much as you did. It had been close to two years at this point; what else did you have to lose?

“You are right, oh dear god. I wonder how that’s gonna go, hopefully well, right?” you ask, more so to yourself than Bo.

“Oh please, I’m great with people’s parents. Plus, they raised you, I’m sure they are great people. Babe, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he reassured before continuing on the route.

-

It wasn’t long before he pulled into your family driveway, pulling the car into park, quickly placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You ready?” he says quietly, looking at you sweetly.

You eyed the front door before looking back and meeting his eyes, nodding, as he leaned in to give you a quick kiss.

God, you missed those.

“Here goes nothing.” you smirk before slipping out of the passenger side and gather your bags.

Bo now follows suit as you knock on the door, his taller frame towering over you. One hand pressed on the small of your back, holding you steady.

The front door opens with a swing, with your mother greeting you at the door. A firm grin upon her lips as she rushes out to hug you, your father appearing behind her.

“Oh I’m so glad you were able to come home! We missed you so much!” she exclaims, squeezing you tighter.

Before giving you a slight nudge and knowing look towards Bo, who had remained oblivious, while he shook hands with your father.

All of you gather inside your house, Bo taking control of the conversation when acceptable.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, your parents are engulfed in his stories and laughing at his jokes. All the while getting to know the man that you loved so much.

Bo was pretty much a natural when it came to impressing others, and you knew it wasn’t gonna be an issue with your parents.

The two of you answering almost any questions, Bo excitingly telling the story of how the two of you met.

-

“Oh I almost forgot, I need you to do me a favor.” Bo murmured when the two of you had a moment to be alone.

You looked up at him in confusion before he mentioned something about dressing up nice. A knowing look upon his lips before giving you a slight wink and walking off towards the guest room.

There you stood, gaping like a fish in wonderment at what he possibly could be planning. Slowly walking into your childhood bedroom, looking for anything that would meet his description of nice.

You settled for something that you wore to a formal gathering that still managed to fit you. Giving yourself a quick look in the mirror, you left your bedroom to find Bo standing there.

You had to hold back a gasp; the man looked rather handsome in a dress shirt and pants. His hair was nicely done, and his hand gestured out for you to take.

“Bo what is all this for?” you exclaim, as he only smirks and leads you towards the front door.

“Shut up, I’ve been wanting to take you out for months.” he says as he opens it and leads you towards his car.

The man practically doing the whole nine yards, all the while you looking at him in pure wonderment. Of course, the two of you had been on dates prior, but never like this.

You had to practically stop yourself from grinning as he suavely got into the driver’s side of the car., Giving a quick glance over at you unbeknownst to you, trying not to melt at how gorgeous you looked.

“Where are we going?” you ask as he starts the car slowly pulling out of the driveway.

“You ask a lot of questions my dear.” he says, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

“Oh shit is this my execution?” you smirk as he dramatically nods.

“Babe, how the hell did you find out? Who told you? Was it my manager? I knew she’d rat me out!” he exclaims.

“You know I had to be certain, you did make me dress up all nice and all.” you play along, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh well, I can’t give away the entire surprise so zip it with the questions sweetie.” he quips as he continues the drive.

-

It’s not long before he pulls into a fancy Italian restaurant, way out of your usual pay range. You could feel your stomach do somersaults, giving the man an incredulous look.

Bo simply grins as he gets out of the car, rushing over to open yours for you. Eyes wide, still staring at him like he was fucking insane. He shakes his head and carefully pulls you out of the car.

“Now no complaints. Or whatever you plan to do. I’m paying, I’ve been wanting to treat you like this for over a year now. I’m doing it, and I’m gonna enjoy doing it.” Bo huffs, all dignified.

You simply nod in disbelief before he slips his hand within yours. While he enters the restaurant, he mentions his reservations to the hostess, and they seat you at a table.

Once the butterflies subsided in your stomach, you took the attention of the man in front of you. Never had anyone done something like this for you. You were trying to not look like a genuine fool with the smile you wanted to express.

You knew he was the one for you, but the way that he had looked at you. The pure adoration in his eyes and how he had planned everything, you were practically melting.

“I love you.” you whisper, wondering if he could hear it.

He did.

Bo looked up from his menu, a blush now practically kissing his cheeks. He dimples, rising at the declaration before reaching across the table since he was large enough to kiss you gently.

He was quick enough as the waitress came over to take your order. That goofy lovesick grin still plastered across his face as he straightened up in his seat.

The two of you ordering whatever looked best on the menu, clinking glasses when they arrived and looking dreamily into each other’s eyes.

“Man, I missed you. Like I know I say it a lot, but I mean I did. Going on tour is….well it’s lonely. I know you’re still in school, but sweetie. When I’m done, you’ll be sick of me. I promise.” Bo said insistently.

“No I won’t, I’m sure it’s gonna be the other way around. I don’t know if I say it enough, but I really am proud of you. I am so proud to call you my boyfriend, to call you mine. I don’t mind waiting.” you say quietly.

“How did I get so lucky?” he paused, eyeing the plates of food that were coming your way.

“Thank NYU, they did all the work.” you joke, thanking the waitress before digging into the meals.

The food was excellent; it was incredibly worth the price. Even if it was steep, the dinner was lovely. Bo is cracking jokes and telling you his favorite fan encounters that have occurred since his tour began.

It was hard to believe that the man who was often so quiet and shy could be so loud and brave enough to yell at hecklers. Except you could believe it, you had obviously been to one of his shows.

It made your heart begin to flutter at the fact that he wasn’t afraid to be himself around you; it made you feel secure.

The way his stage presence dominated the scene, it was practically impossible to keep your eyes off of him. No matter the situation.

Even now, his eyes glimmer while he tells you whatever story he had dug up. This was his passion, and you reveled in it all.

The night went well as the two of you caught up, knowing it would be quite some time before he’d meet up with you again. As he too had Thanksgiving to celebrate with his family in Massachusetts.

You shared a nice dessert, and he left a rather hefty tip simply because he could. Bo never made it necessary to note that he had money, but you knew he was excited to spend it.

All the while, you spent the night in a dizzying smile. Not giving a shit whether anyone knew it or not, even in the parking lot. The two of you waltzing messily towards the car, giggling and sputtering like a bunch of fools.

He was your fool, and you were his, who knew how long you’d have with him for now. You were destined to make the most of it.

Even as the ride home dwindled and you knew he’d have to catch a flight soon. You weren’t surprised or shocked even; days with him tended to be like this.

As the two of you reached your front door, Bo carefully leaned down to a comfortable position and kissed you softly. Not desperately, just tenderly. As if by the time he’d kiss you again, you’d simply wouldn’t be there.

His lips grazing yours, hands pressed carefully against your cheeks. You reciprocating all the while leaning into him in a warm embrace.

When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, he gave you a look that you knew all too well.

“I’m not saying goodbye.” you whisper into his arms.

“I’ll be back soon don’t worry.” he murmurs into your embrace.

With one last kiss on the forehead, you watch as he walks back to his car. Judging by the way his schedule worked, you knew he’d be back sooner than he would in the past.

Yet, with the soft ‘I love you’ said between the two of you couldn’t help but shed a tear and just hope that the next time would last longer.

[hangovercurse]

Our Song

At the last show of his tour, Kells invites you on stage for a duet, but it turns into a bit more than that.

Request: “Can you do one where the reader and Colson both are music artist. I know you're doing this with "The Thing We Can't Tell Pete about. But with this one they have been dating for a while and while they are in the middle of the song Colson decides to announce they're dating and gives her a kiss in front of the crowd, and the reader is just in shock. However it ends it up to you. Love ya!!!!!!!!”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: implied smut/ mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: So, I used my own lyrics in here because why not (sue me I guess)

Word Count: 2326

The last two months had been absolute hell on Earth. Yes, you loved your job. Recording your third studio album was exciting but being busy all the time was exhausting. On top of that, your boyfriend being off on tour meant you hadn’t seen him in person in two months, which was driving you even more insane.

It also meant you hadn’t had sex in almost two months.

You’d called each other every night, even if you were both drunk off your asses or faded beyond belief. It had become your routine; get home from the studio, grab something to eat, then hop into the bath and facetime your blond boyfriend.

Tonight, was no exception, but the energy on the call was different. Colson was coming home tomorrow. Granted, he would be going straight to the venue for his concert, but he’d be here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right princess?” He asked, a joint hanging from his lips.

You smiled, nodding, “I haven’t seen you in two months. If I’m not there, you should assume I’m dead.”

He chuckled, “good.” He hesitated before continuing, “I was thinking you could perform with me. We haven’t performed White Sea in like a year.”

You bit your lip at the thought of performing with him again. He was right, after you’d finished live performance promo for the song, neither of you had performed it together. “Yeah, I’m down.”

The song was the first one you’d written together; it was actually the whole reason you’d met. “You don’t think people will get suspicious though? I mean, people are already catching on. I feel like performing it out of the blue would add fire to the flames.”

He thought about it, the wheels turning in his head. “I think it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret.”

You nodded, “I know, we’ve just never really talked about telling people.” The last two words came out softer than you had intended.

Colson and you had been together for a year and still hadn’t officially told anyone outside of your closest circles. You liked the privacy, and getting the media involved always caused problems. So, you kept it to yourself. People saw you out together, but nothing had been confirmed.

Colson left the conversation there, not having a good answer. You had both agreed a long time ago that if people figured it out or someone slipped up and told you would be okay with it, and you would. You just didn’t think it was a big deal if people knew or not.

He started talking about his day on tour, the crowd he’d played to tonight. You told him about the song you were working on. Eventually he got called away by the boys.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” He smiled at you through your phone.

You smiled, “You better. I-“ You almost slipped up. Almost said those three words so casually. But you’d caught yourself. “I can’t wait.” You covered.

He gave you a small wave before your screen went back, the sound of the line disconnecting ringing through your bathroom. You put your phone on the floor next to the tub, leaning your head back and sighing.

You don’t know why it worried you so much. You knew you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you too. There was just something about saying out loud that scared the hell out of you.

 The next day was amazing. As soon as he texted you that he’d gotten to the venue, you were rushing to meet him there. When you stepped into the green room where he was, he ran up to you and grabbed you by your waist. Your arms went around his neck, legs around his as he lifted you up, burying his face into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your skin. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely.

“I missed you too.” You whispered. He lifted his head up and pressed a deep kiss to your lips as your feet came down to touch the floor again. His lips were so familiar, it felt like the world had shifted back into place when you felt them on yours.

He pulled away, forehead and nose still pressed against yours. Your hands travelled from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing the fabric of his t-shirt. “I didn’t think I was gonna survive another night without you.” You said with a slight giggle, making him laugh.

“Well now you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, pressing a peck to your lips.

Before you could pull him back to your lips, your moment was interrupted. “We get it, you guys are cute. Whatever. Can we get hugs from our favorite girl?” Irv joked, pulling your attention to the group of guys near the couches in the room.

One of the things you loved most about being with Colson was how accepting his friends were of you. Slim and you had bonded over your love of music production and mixing, Baze had taught you some more complicated bass riffs, and Rook was your designated adventure buddy (after Colson, of course). You felt lucky that your boyfriend’s family had taken you in as one of their own.

You ran over to them, giving each of the guys a hug. When you hugged Ashleigh, she whispered in your ear, “don’t ever leave me alone with these lunatics again.” You both giggled at that, leaving the boys confused.

After messing around backstage for a while and catching up with your friends (mostly from the comfort of Colson’s lap), it was time for the guys to perform. You set up your spot side-stage with Ash, Irv, and Andre, excited to see the set.

Before he went on, Colson came over to you and pulled you in for a very giddy kiss. Pre-show Colson was your favorite Colson, except for maybe post-show Colson, only because he was so excitable. Every time you sat show side, he demanded you give him a good luck kiss. No matter who was watching.

Watching him was magical, in fact watching all the boys was magical. The way their passion showed through the music and the performance was something that not many other artists could perfect. You felt like you’d never match their level of performing.

When Colson brought out his acoustic guitar and two bar stools, you were a bit taken aback. Normally his shows were so high energy that he never wanted to sit down, even during the slower songs. It wasn’t really his style.

“I wanted to bring out a very special guest today to help slow this down a bit.” He said to the crowd as they screamed. “I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, but I figured today would be the perfect time to do it.”

He looked over at you, a smile on his face. It finally registered in his mind that he was talking about your song. Luckily, you’d had ears put in at the beginning of the show, so that wasn’t an issue. One of the venue’s techs handed you a microphone and signaled you to go on stage.

Once you came in view of the audience they erupted into another round of cheers, making you smile. Colson met you halfway and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. He led you over to the chairs, letting you sit down while he adjusted his mic stand. “For those of you who don’t know, not that there should be anyone who doesn’t know who this is, but just in case, this is Y/S/N. We wrote this song a little over a year ago today.”

You smiled as he started to strum the familiar intro, the lights dimming just a little bit.

Drownin’ in empty space.

You started singing.

Don’t even know my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

It’s okay

Rook brought the drum beat in as Colson smiled at you, his verse starting

Yeah

I was drownin’ in this darkness

Feeling like I was so heartless

All these drugs makin things harder

They tried to turn me to a martyr

You loved watching him party on stage, but you loved watching this side of him, too. Completely stripped down and raw. Hearing him rap the words you wrote together made your heart flutter, even if you’d written them so long ago.

I can’t handle shit I’m just a man

I tried to tell ‘em, they don’t understand

Riptide’s pulling me away from land

I couldn’t stand till you reached out your hand

And now I can.

The rest of the music came in, the sounds mixing as you began the chorus.

Drownin’ in empty space

Don’t even my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

The key raised.

Out on the open sea

Feel your eyes watching me

Wanted to fall asleep

Now I believe.

The music kept playing, but Colson’s rap didn’t enter like it was supposed to. Instead, he just looked at you, a fond smile on his face. You tilted your head, questioning him, but he just placed his guitar on the ground and kept looking at you.

“I just want to let everyone here know, that today is my one-year anniversary with this amazing woman right here.” He said into the mic, causing the audience to burst into screams. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening.

He caught your expression and laughed but kept going. “It wasn’t a secret that we’ve been together, but we’ve been quiet about it. But I mean, like, fuck that shit. When you’re in love you should tell everyone, right?”

You smiled at him, your heart picking up speed. “And Y/N I am so fucking in love with you.”

You looked down, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks and the idiotic grin you were sporting. You had never expected this from him. “Like, seriously, this past year has been the best year of my life. Even when we aren’t together you are the one thing that I look forward to the most, every day. You are one of the best things in my life, and I want everyone to know that.”

During his little monologue he had walked over to your chair and pulled you up into his arms. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, making him laugh. He pulled the microphone away from you both so it wouldn’t pick up your conversation.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you complied. “I love you.”

You had tears in your eyes as you studied his perfect features, “I love you, too.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while I just…”

“I know, princess.” He smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips together in a sweet, passionate kiss. The audience erupted in applause, cheers, and awes. “Are you gonna say anything?” He asked once you’d pulled away, motioning to the audience with a smile on his face. You shook your head, burying it back in his chest and laughing. He spoke into the microphone, “she got all shy now.”

The crowd laughed with him, shouting supportive comments at you both. “But she said she loves me too so that’s all that matters.” He continued, earning even more cheers.

 After the show, Colson came backstage and immediately attached his lips to yours, hands holding you close. You pulled him into one of the unused dressing rooms, mouths never leaving each other. He hoisted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, and leaned your back against the mirror.

Finally, he released your lips from his, making you whine. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about all this, but after last night I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. And you just looked so pretty out there that I-“ You cut him off with a kiss, lips moving together slowly.

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Colson, I loved it. I was hella embarrassed because the first time you told me you loved me was in front of thousands of people, but I loved it. And I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a peck to your lips. “How much do you love me?” He asked, slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing something was up. “Depends on your next statement.”

A laugh fell from his mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Because I really hope it’s a lot.”

“What are you doing?” You asked him, giggling.

He lifted the lid off of the box to reveal a key with your first initial painted on one side and a C on the other. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to maybe think about moving in with me, now you have a key.” He smiled as you took the metal in your hands.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, lips open in shock. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you?” You confirmed.

“Only if you want to. But yes.”

You smiled, looking back down to the key and then up to his face before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your waist. “Of course, I want to, dummy.” You giggled and reconnected your lips.

“We’re supposed to go out and celebrate the last night of tour tonight, you’re gonna come, right?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You act like I don’t wanna be around you.” You pushed his chest playfully. “But we might be a couple minutes late.” You smirk.

Colson raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah? And why is that?”

Instead of responding you just giggled and pulled him back into a kiss.

[sohin-ace]

Rohan - A Day In Paris

Happy birthday to my lovely Giovanna @gio-is-writing . I love you with all my heart. Thank you for barging into my life and stealing my gangster's heart. This one's for you.

You huffed and dropped your heavy luggage in the hotel room you were staying at for your short vacation. You briefly glanced out your window, The Iron Lady greeting you from afar.

No time to spare, you had a busy day ahead of you, and your friend would not let you off the hook if you spent your short rare days in Paris lounging around doing nothing.

You took out your phone and called her, struggling to change from your heels to more comfortable shoes.

"Y/N, hello! How was your trip?" Your friend picked up, instantly greeting you with her unmistakable accent and you swore you could hear her sadism.

"Please let me rest, I beg of yo-"

"Nuh huh, sweetie. I have a big program for you and you will make the most out of your trip. You'll thank me later, trust me." She cut you off and you groaned, sleepy and jet-lagged.

Yes. You had to travel to the marvelous city of Paris for a conference meeting, but of course, you could only expect your best and only local friend to make you tour the entire city in a record-breaking time.

She had planned out for you a extended list of activities, museums, restaurants and places to visit during your voyage. Knowing her, you were impressed and almost suspicious that she didn't try to drag you out with her and forced you to meet 'your future husband' through many blind dates.

Losing yourself through confusing subway stations and vintage architectured streets, you eventually found yourself in your most desired destination.

Obviously, whoever thought of Paris thought about the iconic Pyramid of glass. That was the one place you always dreamt of seeing.

"So... That's the Louvre, huh?" You breathed out, almost in disbelief.

You couldn't possibly pass the occasion of visiting one of the most reknown art gallery in the world.

Looking around the vast plaza, you had expected much more people to crowd the area, but you were pleasantly surprised to only see a few strangers here and there. Good, that was much less anxiety inducing.

Not wanting to wait any longer and too eager to finally discover this magical place, you guided yourself in. The contrast between the loud sunny exterior and the dull and quiet ambiance inside forced you to relax.

Hours had passed by without you even feeling them. You were having much more fun that you'd have ever anticipated, even though visiting a museum all alone was a thought repulsive to most people. You loved every bit of it, walking through the  finely decorated corridors, immersing yourself in the eery yet pleasant quietness of the place, learning through the masterpiece's description, imagining the sculptures come to life.

You smiled. You were happy from this simple yet incredible experience. It was crazy how a change of scenery and how art could so easily move you, transporting you into new worlds, new horizons, and make you travel through times and spaces.

"It's like magic, isn't it?"

You gasped and instantly jumped at the sudden deep voice right next to your ear. You looked behind you to glare and maybe insult who ever had just almost given you the biggest heart attack you'd ever have.

"O-Oh my god!" You yelped, already too loud for the place you were in, prompting a few heads to turn your direction. You shamefully toned down, "Y-you scared the shit out of me-..."

"...I apologize, miss," The male's daggered expression looking down at your small frame did not match his polite words and soft tone. "I didn't mean to startle you, but you looked so deep in thoughts and you were blocking the view."

He pointed at the painting behind you and you decided to ignore his left-handed comment, moving a bit to the side and away from the painting. When your breathing finally slowed down to a healthier pace, you took the time to observe his features a little more.

He stood tall in front of you, his frame slim yet sturdy. You were striked by his eyes of emerald and his androgynous facial traits that seemed to soothe you even without contact. His dark green hair was meticulously styled to the side with an intriguing headband adorning his forehead.

You decided to not stare down his body in fear that his expensive-looking clothes revealing his toned abs and lean waist were actually not an illusion from your peripheral vision but his actual look.

Dang it, you thought, he was too hot for you to stay mad at him.

You looked to the side, and mumbled "... Apologies accepted."

"Wow. Took you a long while of staring at me to accept my apologies. Like what you see, maybe?" He quirked an eyebrow, his tone now condescending, which completely contrasted with his earlier princely behavior.

You gasped and clicked your tongue at him, "You-... Are you famous or something? Why are you acting so bratty all of a sudden?" You knew it, your friend had warned you about this type of guy. The type to act all high and stuck up, roaming art galleries and belittling others. More often than not, handsome and wearing sketchbook-filled satchels. "French artists, I swear..."

You saw him lick his lip before scoffing, as if you had offended him. Unbeknownst to you, the man was actually quite amused by you and did not expect this comeback. He had already long forgotten about the painting behind you.

"Oh you're funny. How did you know?" He smirked obnoxiously, stepping up slowly and looming even taller over you. "You should consider yourself privileged to even be looked at by the Great Rohan Kishibe."

You squinted your eyes at his bold ego, but also at the sound of his name. "Rohan Kishibe...? That sounds like a Japanese name. So you're not a snobby French city boy? Disappointing."

He let out a 'tch' of annoyance. How dared you slander his persona? 'Snobby city boy'? 'Disappointing'?

...'French'?!

Rohan huffed and closed his eyes. Oh no, he couldn't let you get to him so easily and give you the satisfaction.

"That's correct, you dense child." He buried his hands in his pants pockets, dismissing the look you gave to his shamelessly visible underwear waistband.

"Oh shut up, you can't be barely older than me." You huffed and blushed, avoiding eye contact with this man getting so deliciously on your nerves.

You wouldn't admit it, but you were quite enjoying this excentric man's company. His manneurisms and the small smirks he showed at your defiance stirred a little something inside you that just made you want to keep him here a little longer and waste his time. He did look like the busy type, after all. Perfect for bothering and messing with.

Oh but you certainly did not expect him to be thinking just the same as you. In any other circumstances, Rohan would have probably lost patience long ago and snapped, not wanting to spend another minute with the likes of you. But for some obscure reason, he wanted to get to you just as much as you did him. Push all your buttons and drive you absolutely wild.

Maybe it was the little grimaces you made at him that he hated to find cute, maybe it was how your small hands mindlessly held the velvet railings protecting the artworks. Perhaps it was your overall form so gracefully holding yourself up, a delicate sight for such a fierce lady. Or maybe it was that little lipsticked wide smile that he wanted to wipe off your face and kiss absolutely senseless.

"Whatever you say... Uh... 'Your Name'."

You swore you felt a vein pop on your flushed forehead. "It's Y/N. Y/N L/N. Get it right next time."

You rolled your eyes at him and whipped your hair out of your face with exaggerated and unnecessary sass. You wanted to giggle but held it back as he stepped forward and uncomfortably close to you.

You thought he wanted to strike you for a moment and froze as he leaned down and poked his index finger to your chest accusatively.

"Listen here, L/N, "He spat your name through gritted teeth and your mind was hazy with the heady scent of his cologne. "Keep that little attitude of yours and I'll pin you to one of these fucking walls next to these paintings. That'll teach you a lesson."

Your face warmed up and your breath hitched shakily at his bold 'threats'.

"Ooh~ woah there, partner. At least take me to dinner first..." You chuckled and pushed gently on his toned chest, trying to conceal how insanely flustered he had made you feel.

"... Fine then. Tonight 8 P.M. Right here, at the entrance of the pyramid."

Rohan straightened up and stepped away from you. The sudden cool air hit your red face and you widened your eyes, only then registering the fact that he had just flirted back.

"Wait... What?!"

"Don't be late."

"Hold on-"

And just like that, the 'Great Rohan Kishibe', as he had comically introduced himself, disappeared from your sight, continuing on his visit as if he hadn't just shamelessly stolen your heart, leaving you both a blushing and a confused mess.

What a smooth bastard. He was actually taking you to dinner.

It would be a fun trip to Paris.

Bonus:

"Girl I can't come with you tonight, I'm sorry." You told your friend on the phone. "I just met a super cute asian boy at the Louvre!"

She gasped and wanted to whine at you. You were leaving her for a cute asian boy? But soon her tone changed to a more suspicious one.

"Wait... A cute asian boy...? At the Louvre...? Does he, perhaps, by all means, coincidentally, maybe, look like a thot, with green eyes and stupid hair?"

"Yeah? How did you know?" You replied without hesitation.

"Oh that's Rohan! Can't believe you found him haha!" She chuckled, barely caring about trashing the poor man left and right, "Tell him I said Hi. Also, have fun, and use protection cause his dumbass won't-"

"Shut up! SHUT UP!"

[makeupbychio]

goodnight n go // C.H

pairing : Calum Hood x Reader.

summary : you are a famous pop singer and one normal night in your life Calum literally came to change everything.

words : 8.5k

warnings : fluff, angst and swearing.

a/n : hi babies, so I tried to do this gender neutral because I’m trying to write things for everyone without specifying gender, sexuality, physical appearance, etc. Feedback is more than welcome. Credits to the owner of the photo, and the Instagram posts.

italics means song lyrics.

bold means posts on social media.

inspired by : that one second laugh Ariana Grande does in ‘everytime’ studio version and ‘goodnight n go’ live version. And these videos (links down below in the blurb)

You are a pop star, already part of the pop culture, on tons of playlists made by platforms. So your life is always on the public eye even when you don’t post in your social media the paparazzis and social accounts always doing that for you. It wasn’t like that at the beginning, the world barely knew your name, your shows were for 50 in the room, then 100, then 1000, now a whole arena and with two dates in some cities. You have learned how to deal with the dizzy things of being famous thanks to your fans, family, friends and your own power so at the end of the day you would not change leaving your heart on stage singing and dancing every night at all even when you know that it is crazy, yeah, it is crazy there outside. How people that you don’t know tells you how you changed their lives with your music, how you saved them, tattoos in their bodies inspired by your lyrics and style.

It is been crazier lately. You write your songs inspired by your own experiences or your loved ones experiences. You just finished a tour and after a good break for a whole season you are back writing and planning a new album. You were writing a song based on a reckless love but the song couldn’t make it to the previous album because you never finish it and you didn’t want it as an interlude. But you restart it because life slapped you in the face because 3 months ago you broke up with your partner. You are laying on bed looking at some pictures of you two together walking on the streets taken by paps. The light of the screen lighting your face. And god, how you didn’t realize tons of things?, in every picture you are looking at your ex like a fool completely in love but people could not say the same coming from the other person. You were in love, your ex really loved you at first but the last months of the relationship barely paid attention to you. That is when you remembered one of your fights.

“I waited for you for almost two hours! You could at least answered my messages or you could call me! So I would leave the restaurant and don’t waste my time on you” you said loudly pointing at its face when you came back home and acting like nothing happened. You were furious.

“I know, sorry I’m tired I spend the whole day with my friend I didn’t see him in a while” your ex sighed laying on your bed. “Don’t wanna argue”.

“I don’t care about your friend! You could tell him to hang out another day. It was a special day for us you asshole” you said giving an angry look and leaving the room.

It was supposed to be a special day that day. You were back from your South America leg of the tour and you received the notice of awards nominations so you decided to celebrate by having dinner and then go to the movies together. But your ex didn’t show up, and it wasn’t the first time. You just asked for simple things like going to the beach or just receive love. So even you were angry, you came back to their arms every time.

You thought that then a good fuck or a pretty face would fixed everything, but no. Your naive head at that moment thought that things were going to change, or that your lover was the love of your life.

Now you are looking at the last picture of you two that was seen together walking out a store and even bugs can notice how disillusioned your expression and body language are in that photo. You are hanging by their arms but looking at the floor with your head down. The other person also was trying to hide it with a cap and focused on the road.

‘Oh God’ you sigh at the picture knowing how ridiculous you looked. You lock your phone and throw it to your side of the huge bed now empty the other side. You are sitting with your legs crossed in your bed looking outside your window. It is late in the night so the city lights are your view and it reminds you that night when you called your best friend to tell her about you were thinking to end your relationship. She is always been supportive with you and every time you were going to make your decision you postpone it till finally it happened. You remembered that you cried a lot that night you saw them leaving your apartment and hours later you were still crying listening to sad music with your best friend looking at the roof. 

Now you decide to restart the song you left half done. Your dog joined you in bed, you went for a cup of hot chocolate and you start writing it.

+

The next day early in the morning you are in your way to the studio once you are ready with your makeup trying to hide your tiredness that you wrote till 3 am and put your studio outfit which consists on a big hoodie so big that the sleeves are always covering your hands but comfiness is first.

Your band and crew arrived and you have your coffee. Even when it is a sad song coming from your experience you want to put energy in this one like one of those nights you fought, how your blood was running in your veins and how deeply you knew that your relation was pointless but you were going to fall every time. The energy being aware of that but at the same time an energy by saying I’m done, I get over you but I know that I was a fool for you but not anymore. 

You explain that to everyone when all of you are thinking about the melody and beats. Most of the people in the room insist and show you a sad melody and you are starting to get frustrated because they are not listening to you and your idea you are looking for. 

You decided to move on on another two songs that you have complete. During breaks to eat something, drink water, go to the next studio and say hi to people that you know and fooling around with your own crew now it is dark outside and you are thinking to call it a wrap for today but the urge to at least figure it out the musicality of the song you wrote last night it is bigger.

But all of you are tired and ran out of ideas and your manager enters the soundproof box to tell you that the room is reserved for another artist from midnight till dawn. So you have 3 hours left to record this song or try again another day.

When you are talking to your favorite producer, who also is your friend, a tall man enters the room with headphones and the music too loud for not noticing the room full of people. When he saw the big group of people he freezes and apologies already leaving when you stop him recognizing him.

“Calum?” you said getting up from your seat in front of all the buttons of the huge synthesizer.

“Y/N?” he asks checking if this is real.

You nod at him and hug him because it is been a while, almost 2 years without seeing him. He is so happy to see you, the last time you were together was in an awards after party and you know him since 4 years ago when you met him and his band on an awards show that you presented his band and their performance and you saw it from the corners of the stage and waited to congratulated them because you are respectful with others musicians work, they asked for a picture and after that you have been friends but your busy life didn’t let you hang out with them but always exchanging likes, comments or messages on the dms on social media. 

“Omg how are you?” he asks you while he hugs you with his strong arms the height difference is notorious so he lays his right cheek on top of your head. He knows about your love situation, but to be honest he was not sad about that. Not at all. But he is not going to take advantage of that.

“Fine and you? Omg I miss you so much, what are you doing here alone?” you say to him confused not seeing all the 5sos boys.

“We are recording our new album and the guys should be here” he says checking the hour on his watch and then quickly his phone if there is a message.

“Finally new 5sos music!” you say and laugh.

“Yeah, we don’t have the ability like you to drop music every year.” he teases you.

“Hey!” you punch him softly on his ribs. “First things first, you can do that too if you want to drop music and second, actually right now I’m struggling with a song” you explain to him all of your situation when his phone rings. Ashton is on the other side of the line.

“Cal, we said at midnight!” Ashton said.

“Oh crap, I don’t know why I understood it was at 9 pm...K’...Bye, see ya’” Calum answers to his friend before hanging out the call.

He explains to you the situation even when you listened to what Ashton said. Calum tells you that it was nice to see you but he should be back at midnight but you stop him letting him know if he wants he can stay.

“Are you sure?” he asks knowing that maybe that could bother your crew.

“Of course Cal!” you say. And even when his house it is like 20 minutes away by driving he could come back when it is his band’s turn to use the studio but to be honest again he would really love to hang out a while with you. He always finds you attractive and your voice is one of the most angelical for him.

After he greeted the rest of the group he sits close to you listening your conversation with your producer.

“What if you add little adlibs and drums?” Calum suggests but he regrets if the producer would get angry. “Sorry man, I know it is your work and I am just a guest and-” 

“It is okay! Actually that is a good idea dude” your producer say asking Calum to show him what he said.

Calum and you enters the box and he sits to play the drums.

“Ashton is teaching me a little bit now that we are roommates” he jokes about it while taking the drumsticks.

“I saw that joke you did to Ashton! It was hilarious and his response” you point at him.

So you and Calum organized that he would play something in the drums first and then you start singing or reading the lyrics to catch the rhythm. He shows you a freestyle moment with the drums since he’s been doing that in his house to practice. The producer in the other side of the glass tells you from the speaker that there is a beat that maybe could fit. So once back again listening to beats ideas ordering to make that beat faster or slower, louder or pronounced then your band is working with the guitar, bass, keyboard and your drummer continues what Calum started and last but not least you are thinking where to sing it with high notes that it is your biggest characteristic.

All the people in the room are tired, your manager and part of your crew left early because they have meetings for some upcoming festivals to schedule. You let your band know that is the last effort of this week then you’ll be back again the next one rehearsing for an awards performance.

Calum now is in the other side of the glass next to the producer watching and listening all of this process of making this record. He is having fun and he realizes he could hear to your voice all night. It takes a lot of takes, to the final result of a song and Calum knows that perfectly.

You want to achieve the highest note of the song in the last chorus of the song in the last line. You should have record that first because it is getting hard for you to reach with a tired vocal cords after doing the rest of the song and the ad libs. You sigh frustrated at another failure of that last chorus.

“Y/N, should we call it a wrap for today?” your producer asks you softly. To be honest, you don’t want it after all of the work behind to finally get this song built.

“Excuse me” Calum says confident to the producer to take control of the speaker. “Y/N, listen to me, this is the last effort I know that ya’ can do this… You got this” he says looking at you directly in the eye. You nod and take a deep breath to try again and ‘he was right’ you thought to yourself when you freaking nailed it not just one high note, you reached it also the lines of the outro of the song.

Once you open your eyes when you keep singing with not that much power the last line. You laugh hiding your smile with the sleeve of your hoodie because the first thing you see is Calum stunned with his arms crossed on his chest and one hand full of rings lifted to cover his mouth. You start clapping to your band and say through your microphone ‘thank you’ to the rest of the people.

“Girl, you fuckin’ blew my mind” he says so excited mimicking what he said once you left the recording side of the room.

Minutes later everyone is saying goodbye to you and once again you thanked everyone for their job and energy as always and telling your producer to call you to edit the song other day. 

Now you are alone with Calum while you start packing your things. “Magic” you say looking at the clock with 15 minutes in your favor.

You use that time catching up on general things, like music, family, next awards, and a little bit of gossiping and of course asking about the rest of the boys.

“So happy for you guys, I can see that you are happy with this new era” you say after listening to Calum talking so passionate about what he and his band are doing. “I want to wait for the guys because I miss them. Do you think Michael is still in love with me?” you joke about it in a friendly way since Michael told you you were his crush, so he always reacts so excited and weird with you.

“No, he can’t react like he used to”. Calum laughs and you understood because you congratulated Michael on his engagement.

Minutes later, the boys and the rest of the crew arrived making noise with a lot of energy as always ready for a recording night but at the end they are always laying on the floor waiting for the team to call it a wrap.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Luke says running to hug you by lifting you because he is so tall and he missed you so much. You laugh and hold him tight. You say hi to the rest of the boys and you look at Calum next to you when you both noticed Michael is trying to act serious and cool around you when later he is going to ask Calum "Did Y/N said something about me?".

After a couple of minutes talking to the boys catching up about life, their crew called them to start the session so you have to say goodbye.

"Thanks again Cal, you saved my life today" you say goodbye to him with a kiss on the cheek and then the same with the rest. "K' guys bye, hope you have a good night".

You are stepping into your car when Calum calls you running behind you. "Y/N! before you leave, I lost all of my contacts when Ashton threw my phone into a pool…" you laugh at how they always been like that. "So if you can give me your number again if one day you want to hang out with me- with us".

You both exchange numbers and say goodbye.

+

Your producer laughs hearing that take where you stop singing and take a second to laugh at Calum’s face. “You want to put the laugh in the song too?”

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8EMIEPCF5y/

You don’t know if it was a joke or a serious question. You think for a minute at how frustrated you were that night with your team trying to build this song and thankfully Calum was there to help and give his opinion, also that laugh confirms how this song is not sad at all even when people were saying to you that it should be because of your breakup.

“Yeah” you answer and think about that little good time hanging out with Calum. You record a short video of that laugh that is going to be in the song, letting know your fans that you are in the studio pointing with your phone at the computer. 

Your stories on Instagram are always like a puzzle to your fans, like what does this means? what is this? when? where? new song? album? tour? collab? video?. Most of the times you add emojis, letters, or numbers that are meaningful to decipher the message and also to tease.

+

“Hello?... Calum? Can you hear me?” you say through the phone.

“Y/N? Hi! Yes, I can…” he answers leaving the room. “Sorry, I was so into playing my bass, we are writing a new song”.

“Oh sorry, if you are busy I can call you later-” you say softly and gentle.

“No no no. Ehmm, how are you? Tell me” he say surprised that you actually call him. He is giving you all of his attention listening to you.

“I’m fine and you? I’m calling you because we finished the song and I would like to know if you want to appear in the track info, cause’ ya’ know… you helped with the drums and other stuff” you wait for his answer, you are nervous of his response. Why? You have done this all the time with other collabs, ‘maybe because he is so intimidating but at the same time the cutest’ you think to yourself.

In the other side of the call, he is surprised and also he finds this so cute from you because he thinks that he barely contributed. “Ehhm, yes- I mean if you are okay with this I’m okay too”.

+

@MTV: Biggest return of Y/N!, who just announced a new single and a new collaboration TONIGHT!, a new album, and a performance for the VMAS. *internal screams*.

@MTV: Don’t forget to watch the VMAS this Sunday at 8 pm, amazing performances by Y/N, 5 Seconds Of Summer, Halsey, Rosalía, Bad Bunny, Doja Cat, Cashmere Cat and Missy Elliott winner of the Vanguard Award and more! with surprises of course, as always.

+

@y/n.updates: Genius.com has revealed the lyrics of the new singles! “everytime” and “quit”, the last one is from the dj Cashmere Cat’s album. We are so excited for our baby's return.

@bbcradio1: A friendship you didn’t know you needed until now… Calum Hood from 5sos appears in the track info of Y/N’s new single. Is Y/N going to appear in the upcoming 5sos album too? let’s pray to the universe.

+

“Of course last but not least to arrive the red carpet is the royalty in person, Y/N” the interviewer comments watching you posing to all of the cameras. “I am loving this moment. Y/N is here to slay the red carpet and taking pictures with every artist throwing kisses to friends like to 5sos, ugh lucky boys, now saying hi to Normani, we love that”.

“Yeah, I’m smelling big succes coming this year and Y/N totally deserves it” the other interviewer says. “Oh. My. Goddess… Can we take a moment to appreciate this outfit?!”. You arrive and say hi to everyone. After a couple of questions and compliments you are walking with your team to go backstage to change for your performance.

Once the Teen Wolf cast introduced your performance, everything went dark and silence and you appear in a large lavender satin dress, perfect to build up your figure and Cashmere Cat appears on a platform with his dj set and lights pointing at you and him.

“And you say that I'm the devil you know

And I don't disagree, no, I don't see the harm

They say, "You crazy, just leave him, he'll suffocate you"

But I wanna be in your arms

They say, "No, don't pick up the phone, let him think there's nobody home"

But I'm under your spell

'Cause when you call, my heart starts to roll

I always want more

It's my heaven, my hell…”

Then two contemporary dancers are next to you dancing at what the lyrics means to you when you recorded this with Cashmere Cat in the studio after your breakup. At the chorus a fake rain starts in the stage and you have your moment feeling amazing and feeling the beat that your dj friend was playing behind you. You participate too in the choreo while you sing the last part of the song. Singing to both dancers faces like if you are watching from outside when you decided to step out your relation. So each dancer goes to their own way representing the metaphor.

Then a new different beat went off for a little moment and you start singing a snippet of one of your new songs of your upcoming album hoping to make everyone clear how you are after your breakup because you still hear some comments about it.

“I got a bad idea, How 'bout we take a little bit of time away?

I got a bad idea

Forget about it, yeah, forget about him, yeah”.

The next thing you see is everyone standing up and clapping at you. You hug Cashmere Cat. “Thank you, please give it up for my friend Cashmere Cat!”

You stay not that much to the after party because tomorrow you have to get up early for a photoshoot.

+

You post videos behind the scenes and the photos of the photoshoot. You are in the front page and you did something original playing with makeup, hairstyles and clothes. Everyone is living for this new era.

“Ugh, are you going to do that call or should I do it for you?” Ashton interrupts Calum and his daydreaming watching your latest posts.

“What?” Calum answers confused wrinkling his nose and expressions.

“You heard me”. Ashton says letting know his friend that he is not stupid. “I noticed how you look at Y/N that night performing and then at the after party...And don’t excuse yourself because of the angelic voice because I know I was mesmerized too but you were on another level”.

Calum doesn’t add anything else and stands up to continue writing the new song but not without leaving a comment on one of your posts ‘gorg!’.

+

“Hello beautiful human, it is Y/N back in the studio!” Zach says through his microphone. Everyone clap and he greets you. Even the promo you have to do for your singles, albums and all that stuff you are so picky with the interviews you want to do because in the past you had a lot of uncomfortable ones with disrespectful questions and interviewers. It is not the case with Zach, you feel at home and he is your friend.

As always you talked about your new music, upcoming things, opinions about something, your personal life and you are so honest talking on Zach’s show because he always asks you about how are you doing because he knows that everyone struggles.

“So the whole tracklist it is on genius.com and I think that it is safe to say that I’m not the only one surprised with the collabs and people who helped you.” Zach says reading a paper checking the new revelation. “I would like to know details how it is to work with such talented artists and producers”.

You told him the details and including how Calum ended in your studio session that night.

“Thank God I recognized him because my bodyguard was ready to punch him” you make Zach laughs.

+

Calum saw your interview and after that he called you. He didn’t know what kind of confidence took him to invite you to hang out tomorrow.

That day you went with him and Ashton and Luke to the Star Wars theme park. The guys insisted that Calum must have gone alone that day but he was too nervous. Other day you and the guys went to bowling, Michael was losing all the fun because his new life as fiancé planning the wedding.

That’s how you got the chance to know more about them every single time you hang out. Paparazzis always were there and people talking about this cool friendship. But then Calum had the balls to ask you on a date. For your surprise he invited you to a The 1975 concert, then you invited him to a Post Malone concert, you went to the movies, then late nights stops at diners. And as the bond between you two was growing with so much love, affection, confidence, honesty and how safe you feel next to him you didn’t realize that you were holding his hand or arm so natural like it was a thing you two always do. That little thing was enough for people to start rumors. Calum likes you so much but he wanted to take things slow because of you and him after you told him everything about your ex and he did the same. His ex used him just for fame and to be in the public eye so with little details when you noticed he was doubting about his own self or anything else, you let him know that everything is okay.

+

One and a half month later, you are with him at your place in your home studio after you order vegan pizza for dinner that Calum was right that it is delicious. You were helping each other, mostly him with ideas of sets to perform Want You Back and Youngblood on tv shows. Then you showed him the final version of ‘everytime’ and he loves that you included the laugh in the song which reminds him of something. 

“I want to show you something” Calum says searching something on his phone gallery. 

“Found it” he says getting his chair closer to yours. It is a video that he secretly recorded of that day in the studio, when you finally hit the high notes of the song. In the video you can hear how he says ‘wow” multiple times and your producer is not surprised but still in awe. Then there is your laugh when you saw Calum’s face and when the song ends you can hear his ‘what the fu-” and the video ended.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8O76_nC3Q5/

“Why you didn’t show me this before?” you say with giggles at how incredible you have the two sides of that moment.

“First, don’t worry because I’m never going to show this to anyone I know that I should ask you before and-” he is explaining himself.

“Can I kiss you?” you interrupts looking at him noticing a sparkly surprise on his eyes.

He leans so fast to kiss you, you take your moment to taste his lips after all this time you can confirm what you think about his lips. You break the kiss needing air. “You didn’t answer my question”. 

He laughs at your teasing while you bit your lip. “You’re right, I didn’t”. He holds your face within his hands and start kissing every part of your face while he says “Yes” in every little kiss.

Things got hot and heavy so you move the make out session to your room. Both of you don’t want that the other person feel pressure to do things but with you Calum forgot his “love is scam” thing. So he carries you and takes his time to make every moment, kiss, thrust and this night to last. He thinks that he is the only one that kinda feels strange at this amount with affection and intimacy but the truth is that you were feeling the same way, because with him you don’t feel a clingy or a needy person as you were in your last relationship. With Calum is different in a good way.

+

“So you didn’t come home last night” Ashton says to Calum when he arrived for lunch time, because he had breakfast twice today with you.

“Ew! I didn’t want to know that Cal” Ashton says while cutting vegetables for lunch. “Thank God you are together, it took you forever. To be honest, I thought Y/N was going to get bored of waiting”. 

+

Another night at your place when Calum surprised you with a romantic dinner and also apologizing for the other night when at his place Ashton interrupts you two.

In the middle of the night you woke up with an idea stuck in your head, you took your underwear and Calum’s baggy shirt he was wearing and before you stood up you melted at the sight of your dog sleeping closely to Calum, who at first hated him but now they look like besties.

After an hour in your studio with this new idea, you had the lyrics and already recording with a beat which two of your best friends made once in a party just fooling. The studio is soundproof and in another level of your house so the music is not going to wake up Calum, but the coldness he felt next to him makes him wonder the reason that woke you up.

And when he found where you are and what are you doing he reminds to himself that in this exact moment he feels so much love for you.

“That sounds beautiful babe” he said getting closer to you to kiss your cheek.

You are editing all focused this song to send it to your producer to do the final touches. “I didn’t want to wake you up” you lift your head to look at him with a pout and noticing he is shirtless and he looks tired from what you did hours earlier. He asked you details about this song called ‘goodnight n go’, he listened to it and once again all of his feelings manifest in a studio. “I love you” he confessed when the song ends. The feeling is mutual and the idea of this song came up all based in your relation you have with him.

+

@Y/N: new album. valentine’s day. love y’all xoxo. 

You posted with the cover of your new album.

+

“There is a lot of people downstairs” your manager said arriving the room, you were waiting for your manager for the first toast of the night. It is your album’s launch party and you want to celebrate with your team, your band and their loved ones. Your family, your friends, artists of the industry, and other famous people.

You made a speech about how grateful you are for everyone in the room for their patience, for the love and support for you and this new project. Before you start to get emotional, you said to everyone to have fun tonight and you thanked again. 

You rented a whole club for the night. After eating, cut the cake and having a few glasses of champagne you are ready to take pictures in the photo booth with everyone.

Your close loved ones of course know about you and Cal, but the other half of the people in the room just know the rumors and the pictures from paparazzis and fans. When you were taking funny pictures with other musicians, it is iconic that in the photo is going to appear artist from different genres of music that are your friends. Calum really wants a picture with you and just you even when he loved the ones with the boys and your friends.

“I’m ready” Calum said to you when you are pointing at the printed photo because Luke’s gold eyeshadow looks freaking amazing.

“Ready for what?” you looked at him confused.

“Ready to announce the world that we are together” he said biting his lower lip waiting for your reaction. He told you a few weeks before that he was afraid and he didn’t know how to handle at that moment if you said you were together, so you told him that it is okay and understood him.

“Like now?! What you have in mind?” you asked him nervous because you both know what comes next with this kind of announcements. 

Calum just took your hand and enter just with you inside the photo booth and when the countdown started he looks at you with a smirk and sparkly eyes. “This is my plan” and he kissed you on the lips at the same time the machine announced the picture was taken.

“We have two more! What do we do?” he asked you, but now that you are here you use right the last two pictures. One kissing him in the cheek and hugging him around his neck that Calum did that thing with his eyes and the biggest smile on his face because he is so happy and also the alcohol. And the last one looks a little bit blurry and funny.

You took the opportunity to take another three but this time, now that everyone is going to know about your relation, the pictures are sexier but not vulgar. Of course your photographer took film pictures during the night so you will have several memories of the night.

You and Calum posted the three first ones on your social media.

@Y/N: my love💖.

@calumhood: happiest man in the universe. february 14th is not bad at all anymore with you by my side💛.

That night before you arrived home with Calum, he told you about a new 5sos music video called Valentine that was going to be on Youtube in 30 minutes, he told you that he wrote almost the entire song and you can’t wait to hear and see him singing this song, especially his verse.

We know we're classic together like Egyptian gold

We love us

+

The success of your new album was immediately. And that means a lot of interviews, invitations to tv shows, radio stations, youtube channels, etc. Calum went and waited for you backstage to the ones that were in US. But the international ones he couldn’t come with you because their new album is going to release soon and new music videos by 5sos.

“I’m so happy to be back!” you said. Today is BBC radio 1 turn. They told you they were happy to have you in the radio.

After you sang a song from the new album, you have to do a cover. In the past you did ‘Them Changes’ by Thundercat and ‘After The Storm’ by Kali Uchis taking advantage of your voice and the high notes you can reach, it is the same this time.

“Hi, this is Get You by my friends Daniel Caesar and Kali Uchis” you said. The last part is your favorite.

This feels like summer

Boy you make me feel so alive

Just be my lover

Boy you'll lead me to paradise

+

Youngblood is out and the release party wasn’t bigger like yours but the fun was the same. You appeared on the Cocktail Chats they did when it was Valentine’s turn. Now after two months your relation went public, the euphoria coming from the people decreased.

+

@Y/N: something huge in two hours with a special guest.

You posted on your stories with a sneak peek.

@ctrlnow: Y/N’s world tour with Kehlani as special guest. Next week tickets on sale. Are you excited? because this is going to be 🔥. It is the first time Y/N is going to perform in all the continents in almost two years.

+

@5sos: US, Canada and Mexico get ready for this tour. Special guest our buddy Dominic Fike. Tickets on sale in 6 days.

+

After 4 months of rehearsals and planning visuals, outfits, makeup, sets, tracklist, etc. You are on the road with the first leg of the tour in US for the whole summer in arenas and festivals. You are synchronized with Calum so you have no problem to hang out together and enjoy to the fullest your days off. 

Both of you don’t get tired of each other concerts. Watching Calum leaving his heart on stage singing and playing his bass, also looking so freaking handsome every single show. For him is the same watching your amazing show with your dancers and different outfits, he said it before and in the present day that he can listen to you singing the whole day and he envies you how charming you are with your fans and noticing every person in the huge arena.

You have a main stage, then a circular runway and a B stage. Calum is always in the first row in front of the B stage. The first show you were so nervous. The beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started and the crowd went crazy. 

“It seems that you really like this one” you said teasing even more. You started dancing and walking next to where Calum is. Your dancers interact with the audience while you are reaching the high notes. 

We'll have drinks and talk about things

And any excuse to stay awake with you

And you'd sleep here, I'd sleep there

But then the heating may be down again

(At my convenience)

We'd be good, we'd be great together

https://www.instagram.com/p/B577uVJnJ6f/ 

When you looked down, there is your boyfriend looking at you like nobody else did before. You laughed at his reaction because it was priceless and before you keep moving you blow him a kiss. So as the same his reaction was that first time in the studio with ‘everytime’ that made you laugh, now it is with the song that he inspired. He does that in every show he goes, every time you sing ‘goodnight n go’. It is now your amulet that he makes you laugh in the same part with his faces and reactions. But not everything is perfect.

+

The different time zones, the distance and the stress is clouding Calum’s mind. In two weeks you have barely spoken ten minutes. And new things keep coming to you like singing to fashion shows, summer festivals in other continents, hosting tv shows, etc. His friends told him that he will get used to and things will be okay within you two. But he misses you so much and he is doubting about himself again in this thing called love.

“I think it is the best Y/N” he said through his phone. He called you that night, he is so overwhelmed and tired. “I don’t want to be an obstacle, this is your career’s biggest time” he tries not to cry while he passed his hand through his hair all nervous.

“Calum please tell me you are not joking” he can hear your sobs in the other side of the line. You are in France and he is in Canada.

“Y/N just look at what time you are calling me! It is 4 am here where I am!” he said frustrated, it is not the first fight but it is the first time he yells at you that loud.

“Okay I’m sorry! It is late here too Calum in New Zealand- my point is that we will be okay Calum. After this I’m going to be home like you” you tried to calm him.

“And then what? Run to film a tv show for a whole week? Just seeing you at nights? We should take a break while we figured it out” he said and you are frozen trying to check if what he said is real.

“You are the only one who needs to figured it out, because I’m sure about us and… How could you even wonder and said that you are an obstacle?”. Now it is the opposite because the last thing you said was “Okay, if it is what you want. Go to sleep n’ goodnight”.

+

You don’t know how people could know. But rumors of your relationship are in every social media and it is just been a day. You want to throw your phone but you have to get ready for your show in Australia, what an ironic thing.

It is not the same hype when the beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started. When you are singing the bridge that you were used to laugh thanks to Calum’s reactions. Now your voice breaks and hide your face with your hand and the other one holding your microphone so the public keep singing because you can’t. Your dancers changed the choreo to get close to you and let you know that they are there for you but still you start singing again in the next chorus but with a shaky voice. With this people confirms the rumors.

@enews: Our favorite couple is not longer a thing. With this we don’t believe in love. Y/N and Calum Hood are taking a break. Days before the couple had some troubles in tour. Y/N broke in tears and Calum didn’t go to any interview. Link of the video of Y/N last show in the bio.

+

“I supposed that you already saw this” Luke said giving his phone to Calum to show a video someone posted on Instagram. It is from your last night show.

“Yeah, I saw it” he said without making eye contact with his friend. Calum doesn’t want to talk about it. He is trying to convince himself that what he did is the best. It breaks his heart watching the video that now it is everywhere and his bandmates noticed how irritated he is with everything.

+

For a whole week Calum barely sleep two hours at nights. He looked off in the shows. He cries during his part in ‘Ghost Of You’, he sings spiritless in ‘Valentine’ and he asked to take off ‘Babylon’ from the tracklist. 

5sos have new dates in another continents after December holidays.

“You should talk to Y/N, the Asia leg is going to be over in ten days and after the holidays the South America leg starts” Michael gave his advice to Calum but once again he didn’t give any answer.

+

You took ‘goodnight n go’ and ‘everytime’ off from the tracklist and changed it for another song because you tried a couple of shows after but you couldn’t do it like it used to be singing that song. Your fans were sad because it is their favorite song but you don’t want to cry every single show. 

You have been in touch with Calum but not much. Just good morning and good night messages and that you are safe in the city you two are in that moment.

+

“Hello Mexico City!” Luke said on stage. “Welcome to the Meet You There tour, thanks for having us tonight, let’s have some fun!”

The whole night Calum were late and off key with his voice and bass that multiple times Ashton tried to follow him with the drums. Calum is thinking and worried about you when he saw earlier that you cancelled your shows in Korea because you got a cold that you have to rest your voice. He just wants to talk to you.

When the show ended, Calum throws his bass hard against the floor without caring a thing. After that he went directly to bed, without taking a shower, or eat something. It is been like this for weeks and everyone knows that what he decided was so stupid, but with hope that he learns the lesson.

“Can you explain us what was that?” Ashton said taking off Calum’s hands his phone. “Dude this is getting out of control, and we gave you your space and everything but now you are going to admit that what you did was wrong and the only thing you want is your relationship back”.

“Go away” Calum said.

“No, Hood. You are barely sleeping, eating, focused, happy. This is how relationships work, and we know that it is crazy as fuck when you are famous”.

“Yeah man, it wasn’t easy for me and my girlfriend” Michael said. “And now we are going to get married...Look, if it is meant to be and if you really love Y/N, you should fix this”.

+

You are back in LA for holidays and tonight you have the last show of the year because the second date of LA you had to cancel it because an allergy you had so you reschedule the show.

You are in the car on your way to the arena when your manager told you to stop by the studio because the new visual that you asked for is ready. It is a recap of this year, so your fans are going to see a couple of unreleased videos and pictures of behind the scenes of this whole year including everything and every person in your life.

In the studio you saw the new visual and you noticed that they didn’t put Calum on it. You love him and even when you are on a break, you wanted him in the visual too.

“Hmm I can explain it” your crew member said when another video randomly start in the screen of the computer.

“A mini film by Andy Deluca” you read in the title. The video shows the different reactions of Calum in every ‘goodnight n go’ performance. not just the tour, it also shows the reactions from his house listening to the song, or watching you performing the song on a show. It is a funny video but at the same time so cute and emotional because his reactions are different in every take. Calum screamed “YAAAAS!” or “I LOVE YOU BABY!”, surprised faces, funny faces, lip-synching, etc. And when Andy pointed the camera at you and you hid your laugh with your hand or sleeve, depends on the outfit. Calum says directly to the camera “Y/N should stop doing that, I’m going to say it later because Y/N’s laugh and smile are gorgeous… Okay this is my favorite song, enjoy it”. And the video ends.

“Wow, this is freaking cool but how did you-?” you asked your team when Calum appears from nowhere that scares you.

“I send it to your manager” he said. “I asked Andy to do this video because as always since the start of our relation I wanted to keep these memories”. When you didn’t say anything, he continues. “Y/N I know that I fucked up everything and-” he is interrupted by your manager telling your team to leave you two alone. Once alone with Calum in the room he continues again. “I got scared, I had never had a real relationship, this connection and what I feel for you before...I’m sorry”.

After a couple of minutes talking and giving your point of view that he didn’t let you give months earlier, you said “I love you, but please talk to me because the solution is not running every time things get complicated” and you hug him. He tried to kiss you but you said that he has to win your heart again.

+

“Hello LA! Hope you enjoy this surprise, happy holidays” and the new visuals and videos start playing in the big screen and everyone is laughing, getting emotional, while you drink water backstage you can hear the “awww cute”. And last but not least Calum’s video is playing and you are ready for the next song. Everyone screamed and are happy for you to be with him again. So when in the video Calum says ‘Okay this is my favorite song, enjoy it’, the beginning of ‘goodnight n go’ started.

Tell me why you gotta look at me that way

You know what it does to me

So baby, what you tryna say? Ayy

Lately, all I want is you on top of me

You know where your hands should be

So baby, won't you come show me? Mmm

“For this next song I would like to call Mister Calum Thomas Hood” you said looking at him. He didn’t know about this. You sat him in a chair and say on his ear “A little tease never hurt nobody babe”. Now talking to the audience, “Let’s go!” and the beat of ‘break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored’ went off. Calum is fighting and struggling when you are dancing in front and on top of him.

+

It’s been 3 years since Calum entered your room. He is so glad that he interrupted your studio session. And here he is now, watching you performing ‘goodnight n go’ like if it was the first time he heard you that night in your home studio, the feeling and the amount of love to you is the same and even bigger he would say, it just changes the place where you are singing this song. Now you don’t hide your laugh with your sleeve, and Calum always says how he feels and trusts in your relationship.

[bangtan-madi]

546 Days Without You — Nine: Day 264

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 2.3k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 9 / 15

Warnings — minor language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment or submit an ask if you want to be added :) Also sorry for the late post. Tumblr has been giving me issues.

Previous — Next

The day the album drops, the group is on edge the whole morning. It's been this way every comeback. The members are progressively moodier until the morning of, then they become eerily quiet.

The second the clock ticks past the release date, there's a group sigh of relief. Map of the Soul: Dream is out in the world, and people are streaming it by the millions. No more writing, no more recording, no more producing: the brainchild of Bangtan is out.

Finally.

The hour after the release, the interviews begin. The band is scheduled for events from the initial release panel in Seoul all the way to interviews across the world. The next few weeks are going to be packed with speaking engagements and travel. Normally, this is where you let the managers take over since it's not common for producers to travel for these kinds of things. On any other album, you'd wave to them as they left for the airport and scurry back to the safety and familiarity of the studio.

But you just had to have your name put on the album.

"Oh, no," Namjoon says, grasping the hood of your sweatshirt as you attempt to do just that. "Don't think you're getting out of this panel."

Turning towards the leader with a scowl, you retort, "I'm not a member, Joon. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. This is your guys' time to shine. I belong in a studio."

He shakes his head adamantly. "Your name's on the album, several times I might add. Writer, producer, and artist. They may have looked over the writing and producing rolls in the past, but now?"

"Not gonna happen," Taehyung snickers as he makes his way towards the Big Hit dressing room. 

"I think people are more intrigued by you then they are by us," Jimin agrees, coming out of the hair and makeup room looking picture-perfect. "This is year eight for us. You're something new in the mix."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "The media likes anything new and shiny."

"I heard you talking to Seokjin about this yesterday," Namjoon replies. "What did he say?"

Narrowing your eyes, you pull your hood out of his grasp with a pout. "He said I should do it." 

This only causes Namjoon to smirk, knowing he's got you. He cups a hand next to his ear and leans down, as if trying to hear you. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

Instead of dignifying his teasing with a response, you shove the leader a bit, earning a laugh from the gentle giant. "They'll get to see me on tour. Why isn't that enough?"

"Y'know, I like her point," Jungkook grins adjusting the tie around his neck. He, too, has been primed and ready for the panel. "We can just go straight to tour and skip all this."

Hoseok enters the room, followed closely by Manager Sejin. The two men are also ready for the day's events, and you realize you're not getting out of this.

"For what it's worth, these things are really fun if you ignore the cameras and pushy paps," he says, playfully linking his arm with yours. Smiling brightly at you, he turns and escorts you towards the dressing room, much to the awe and surprise of the others. "And that's why we have security: to keep those away. This is as much part of tour as actually performing."

Once out of earshot of the others, you turn to Hoseok and mumble, "Yeah...I guess I'm just a little nervous. I remember how the press treated you boys when you first debuted. It was less than kind."

"You're tough as nails, [Y/n]. You Mins are another breed altogether. Trust me, if Jimin can do it, you can, too."

"I heard that!"

Hoseok giggles and gestures towards the dressing room, where the stylist has picked out a few options for outfits. They're all pretty, and go perfectly with the boys' album-themed attire.

"You got this," he states, letting you go and giving you two, big thumbs up.

You sarcastically mirror both his expression and gestures. "I hope so!"

Once everyone is dressed to the nines and dolled up, you're escorted to a Big Hit vehicle and sent on your way to the panel. This is far from the first time that BTS as a group has done something like this. In fact, you've attended once before, for the Map of the Soul: Persona release. It was inside one of the largest conference halls in downtown Seoul, and the seats were packed with photographers, journalists, interviewers, and even Army. Everyone was ecstatic about the release, and you can feel that same energy in the air today, despite being two members short.

As the group piles in the building, you feel Jimin and Taehyung take both of your hands. Your best friend and oldest friends are the first to notice how out of place you feel. The lights, the cameras, the crowds; it's not that you're not used to them, but they've never been focused on you before. 

"You got this," Jimin murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before he leads the trio through the auditorium doors. 

From backstage, you can easily see the ramp that leads to the stage, and the setup in the center. The backdrop is a large, lavender canvas, covered in a larger version of the white outline of the plum blossom album art for 'Dream.' The host of the panel is a well-known personality in the k-pop industry, and as he makes his introductions of the event to those gathered in the seats, you attempt to calm yourself by taking deep breaths.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes twice. Pulling it out, you swipe across the screen, seeing two texts from Seokjin.

"I know you're nervous, but just take those deep breaths like I told you. Hold it in, and then slowly let it out. Seven seconds in, hold, and out. And trust the boys. They won't let anyone ask you questions that are inappropriate or rude. They have your back, Jagiya." The second says, "You got this. I believe in you. If I can do it, you're going to knock it out of the park."

A relieved smile slips onto your face, and you shoulders relax as you text a swift, grateful reply. As you hit send, Jimin reaches once more for your hand and tugs you towards the stage.

"Time to shine," he says with a grin. "Are you good?"

You give a single, assured nod and walk proudly behind him onto the stage. The lights and sounds drown out into a single, mute note as you find yourself being guided to a seat between Hoseok and Jungkook, near the edge of the panel. You're farthest from Namjoon, for which you're grateful in a way; as the leader of the group, he ends up doing most of the talking. Physically distancing yourself from him might be the best idea to keep you from having to speak for the group.

Once the basic introductions are made, even though everyone already knows who everyone else is, the questions from the host begin. The first few are easy questions about the album itself, the making and inspiration and work that went into it. He asks about everyone's roles and the sub units, as well as how they've handled the comeback for the last installment of Map of the Soul. The boys, mostly Namjoon, answer in their usual fashion, both elegant and truthful in their dialogue.

Then, the inevitable questions start to slip in.

"How has it been preparing for an album and tour without two of your most senior members?"

"We'd be lying if we said it's been easy," Namjoon chuckles, trying to answer the host in the most graceful way possible. "Suga and Jin did a lot of work on 'Dream' before they left to do their service, so we still feel as if they're with us, in a way. Jin has his solo track on the album, and it's one he recorded before he left. Suga did much of the songwriting and producing, per usual. But it has been hard. It's been a struggle for all of us to adjust without them, especially when preparing for the tour."

The host nods to you next, and you feel your stomach drop. "But it seems you're not completely rid of a Min family influence. Ms. Min [Y/n], how has it been working with BTS so closely on this project?"

Namjoon gives a small nod of reassurance as you lean forward to speak into the microphone in front of you. "Well...I actually have always worked as a producer on BTS' albums, so this one wasn't so different."

"But this time you're featured on the album as well, is that right?"

Swallowing dryly, you shake your head in agreement. Hoseok places a calming hand on your knee under the table, and you force yourself to take a deep breath in like Seokjin instructed. 

"Yes, I am."

"What brought that about?"

"Well, I had released my track 'Silhouette' on Soundcloud a little bit before, and it had gained a lot of traction amongst Armys. When it came time to decide the final track lineup for 'Dream,' Bang Si-hyuk-nim brought up the idea to include it." You nod down towards Namjoon with a smile. "RM thought it was a great idea, and while I didn't agree at first, eventually I came around. The story 'Silhouette' tells fits in perfectly with the narrative in 'Dream.' We added the track, and the rest is history."

The host nods, listening to your answer intently. "So does this make you the eighth member of BTS, or a stand-in for your brother?"

While trying to remain respectful, you can't help but laugh at the question. "Not even close. Everyone knows that there's only one Suga, only one Min Yoongi, and no one will ever come close to replacing my brother. I'm not trying to become the eighth member of BTS, nor am I trying to replace Suga or Jin. I'm a new artist that's being featured on the next album, just like any previous collaboration. The only difference here is that I happen to be related to one of the members. Those artists...they're one-of-a-kind. If I'm a stand-in for either of them, I'd probably fire myself for doing such a sh—sloppy job."

Your last comment earns a chuckle from the host, as well as the audience behind him. "I see you're quite a lot like your brother in many ways, so it's comforting to know that the band still has a Min on their side, even while Suga and Jin are away at service."

Jimin leans forward to speak into his mic, turning his head so he can flash a wink in your direction. "Yeah, she's been like glue for us this past year."

"We're glad to have her on board," Namjoon agrees. "And both Jin and Suga approved all of this, both before and after they left, so there's that extra bit of encouragement."

"So will we expect to see you on the Dream Tour?" Both the host and the rest of the audience go silent, waited with bated breath for your response. 

Flashing a small smile, you attempt to hide your nerves when you reply, "You'll see me in a little over a month at the opening in Seoul...and every stop after that."

After the remaining hour of the launch event is over, and the press starts to slip out of the auditorium, the members are escorted backstage to the changing rooms. The announcements being made, from now until Tour begins, the six of you are going to spend the majority of your time traveling for events. You've looked at the calendar and have seen the stops planned. Busan is next, then Tokyo, Nagoya, Hong Kong, Macau, Los Angeles, and New York City. You even recall seeing a handful of stops in Europe, Australia, and South America, as the fanbase has grown exponentially on those continents. 

"That went perfectly," Sejin says as the members come off-stage. He nods to you with a proud expression. "You were amazing. All of you."

Jimin scurries over to you and wraps you in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it," he murmurs against your shoulder. "Proud of you, [Y/n]-ah."

Your heart swells at their reassurance, and you pat Jimin's shoulder as a silent thank you. "How can you be sweaty after two hours of sitting?" you tease, shoving him off you.

The blonde scoffs, feigning a hurt expression. "Those lights are bright! And I'm wearing Gucci!"

"Does money make you perspire?"

"Go get changed," Hoseok laughs, separating you two like a mother with her children. "We need to get on to Busan, and tomorrow we fly to Nagoya!"

"Ahhh, now I really miss Jin-hyung and his amazing Japanese skills," Taehyung groans. "I should've practiced more."

The group laughs at his self-inflicted banter and begins the process of changing into travel clothes for the short trip across South Korea. 

"How are we getting to Busan?" you ask.

"Can we vote?" Jungkook asks, raising his hand dramatically. "'Cause I vote train."

Sejin shakes his head. "We have a jet already reserved."

The youngest member extends his hand towards the manager, eyes intent and fist closed. "Rock-paper-scissors for it?"

Though amused, Sejin merely points to the dressing room. "Get changed, Jungkookie."

"But—" All Sejin has to do is look directly at the brunet, cock an eyebrow, and cross his arms, and the maknae is grinning apologetically and running for the dressing room. "Plane it is!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin​​, @gracehiii​, @live-2-fangirl​, @rjsmochii​​, @btsnatalena​

[a65232-joshywoshy]

Colorado Crybaby

Warning: The following chapter depicts scenes of violence and may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 6

      The sun shined brightly through the bedroom window. Two women were asleep in a bed. 

      “Good morning, Rachael.”

      Rachael jumped. She forgot that there was a person in her house. Who is in my house?! Oh no. I’m about to be raped or murdered.

      Penny spoke more softly. “Good morning.”

      Rachael was awake enough to catch up to what was happening and she remembered all the details again. That voice was Penny. Penny had spent the night. Rachael had only 1 bed in this house right now. So Penny had woken up next to her. No danger. It’s just Penny. Penny is safe. Penny is in my bed. PENNY IS IN MY BED. The thought was partly terrifying and partly exciting. Her co-worker of several years and best friend had slept in the same bed as her. How do normal people act with a hot girl in their bed? A hot girl. Rachael’s mind repeated the phrase again. Why did she say that? Penny had said she was bisexual. She remembered being stunned by seeing Penny in her pajamas last night. Penny was hot. Rachael liked how Penny looked.

      “You’re right, Penny.” Rachael’s voice was a little deeper, having just woken up. “I am bi.”

      Rachael turned over to look at her friend’s face.

      “And I admit now. You, Penny, a girl, are hot to me.”

      “I KNEW it!” Penny smiled and let out a soft squeal. “We could date each other, you know. That’d be fun.”

      Rachael was blushing again. “No. Penny! I’m only just now finding this out about myself. I mean… it would be, I guess, pretty fun to date you…”

      “Exactly.” Penny kissed Rachael gently on the forehead.

      “Palpitations. PALPITATIONS!” Rachael blushed yet again. “We’re… we’re co-workers, though. You’re kind of my boss.”

      “No. Mr. Pendleton is your boss. I mean, I kind of have some influence over you, but… I don’t know. It’s not like everybody has to know.”

      Penny got out of bed.

      “We should get dressed and start the day.” Penny grabbed the bottom of her pajama shirt and slowly started to pull it up. “Should I change... right... here?”

      “Oh my god!” Rachael threw her head under the covers and Penny laughed.

      “You are the most adorable thing. I’m not going to change in front of you... Yet. I would melt your brain for the rest of the day if I did that. Wouldn’t I?” 

      “Why are you torturing me with your beautiful body?!?!” Rachael was still hidden under the covers.

      “Because I know I can now. And it’s fun. I’ll wear my work clothes from yesterday. I don’t think I can fit in your clothes after all. I have boobs. You have less boobs.”

      “Thank you. I only have 2 casual outfits anyway. They’re a little small on me, so you would just…” Rachael daydreamed about what Penny would look like in her white tanktop and denim shorts. “Yeah.”

      From the bathroom, Penny continued the conversation. 

      “My voluptuous figure would pour out of it like champagne? Which is a polite way to say I’m fatter than you.”

      Rachael quickly corrected her. “You’re not fat. No. I didn’t mean…”

      “I’m kidding. I don’t think I’m fat. I like how I look. There.”

      Penny emerged from the bathroom back in her work clothes.

     “We’re definitely going to my house so I can change into more comfortable clothes, and for your sake, less attractive clothes.” Penny smiled.

     “That’d be nice. I’d really like to stop thinking about you that way.”

      “I don’t mind it. You’re pretty, too, you know. You do need to get dressed, though, sleepyhead. And don’t strip in front of me. I’m not ready to have sex with you.”

      Rachael blushed again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You told me to change and my brain was like ‘Must obey. Must change.’ You… You can do things to my brain that no one else has ever done before.”

     Rachael picked up her tanktop and shorts to go change.

      “I kind of had a feeling I was able to do that. Even when we first met, you seemed to have this kind of… awe towards me. That’s why I want to see that you’re well taken care of. You’re too precious to get hurt.”

      “Aww.” Rachael was getting dressed in the bathroom now. “Thank you for caring so much about me.”

      “Caring for you has this weird… automatic instinct for me, too. When you got outed in Anaheim I didn’t hesitate. I just ripped you out of there as fast as possible. I had to protect my girl.”

      “That’s one of the many reasons I love having you as a friend, Penny. You’re just amazing like that.”

      Rachael opened the bathroom door. Penny looked over her. 

      “I love it. You look so ‘White girl.’” Penny smiled. “But seriously, though, you are super cute. I can’t remember the last time I saw you in street clothes. We both work too much.”

      “Why can’t I make you melt like you made me melt? That’s not fair.” Rachael started cleaning out her purse so it only contained the essentials for the day.

      “I’m immune to your powers of hotness. Mwa ha ha. We’ll take my car for our shopping trip today.”

      “Sounds good. I don’t like driving much.”

      The two went downstairs to Penny’s car. Rachael locked the front door behind her. Penny’s apartment was in downtown Denver. It was a small apartment near Sloan’s Lake. It was a 25 minute drive from Rachael’s house to Penny’s apartment. They talked for the whole drive. Since they were finally having a conversation outside of the workplace again, they had a whole list of things to talk about. Penny questioned Rachael about being bi, but Rachael’s answers were often just ‘I don’t know.’ Rachael wanted to talk about that topic more with her friend, but she was still trying to process it all internally and needed lighter topics while her mind digested her new reality.

      When they walked into her apartment a few minutes later, Rachael thought Penny’s apartment was wonderful. It was recently remodeled and looked luxurious on the inside. Penny had just the right amount of decoration. It was all tasteful, elegant and modern. Some of the art on the walls was video game themed, but still fit the styling of the other modern decorations.

      “I didn’t know you played video games.” Rachael said, as they toured the apartment.

      “Occasionally. I like the art more than actually playing.”

      “I’m disappointed in the amount of mess, though. You said your home life was a mess. This is a fantastic mess, Penny.”

      Penny pointed at her head. “This home. My personal life. My life choices at home. I didn’t mean my house was a mess.”

      Rachael looked in her bathroom and noticed a dildo on the floor.

      “See? Dammit.” Penny quickly shoved the dildo in a drawer, embarrassed.

      Rachael teased her now. “Oh no. A dildo. Penny has NEEDS!” 

      They both laughed. 

      “Look, kid. I don’t need your sass.” Penny joked.

      They ended the tour in Penny’s bedroom. There was another dildo on the bed.

      “Holy cow. You are the horniest woman I know! Do you have a dildo in every room?”

      Now Penny blushed as she stashed another dildo in a drawer. “I have a high libido, okay? Would you get out of here so I can change, you brat?”

      Rachael laughed. “Yes ma’am.”

      Penny changed while Rachael wandered the apartment, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells of the private life of Penny De LaCruz. At first glance, the apartment seemed normal enough. A bookshelf in the living room held several books that focused on the artwork of video games. The walls were decorated nicely with stylized video game art. Penny had turned on music in her room. Rachael didn’t recognize the artist, but she heard a strong female vocalist singing. The air carried a hint of coconut and vanilla from wax warmers in other rooms. The apartment was kept clean, an easy task, since Penny was only here to sleep most of the time.

      “There. How do I look?”

      Penny came into the living room wearing denim jeans and a loose fitting short sleeved shirt. The jeans had a tear mid-thigh, obviously designed that way. On her feet were pink and grey sneakers with ankle socks.

      “Beautiful. And I don’t go nuts when I look at you, now! A+. 5 stars.”

      Penny laughed. “Let’s go shopping, then.”

      They left the apartment and drove to a nearby home decor store to begin their shopping trip. This store would most likely have the lamp, nightstands and mirror they wanted. They walked inside and quickly found the lamp aisle.

      “Here you go.” Penny said sarcastically. She pointed to an antique lamp that was brand new, yet looked ancient. “This is adult enough for you, right?”

      “Please don’t put that in my house. Ew. I can’t believe people buy some of this stuff.”       Rachael’s attention was drawn further down the aisle where a large floor lamp with multiple arms branched  out. The small shades over each bulb were brightly colored with bright silver arms going back to its base.

      “That’s pretty.”

      “Penny! I want it! I know it’s not a nightstand lamp, but I want it! I am so getting this.” 

      Rachael loaded the large box into their cart, a big smile on her face.

      They continued to walk around and shop, getting twice as many things as they came for. They were nearly done shopping at this store when a man walked up behind Rachael. 

      “Hey. How are you?” The man said.

      “Good. Thanks. You?” Rachael turned and looked over the man, checking to see if she was supposed to recognize him, but she didn’t.

     “I’m good. I just wanted to let you know there’s a huge sale happening behind this building.”

      He didn’t give anyone time to respond.

     “Let’s head back there and check it out. They have this same lamp for 90% off. We have to hurry, though, or they’ll sell it.”

     Penny tried to cut in. “It’s behind…” He cut her off.

      “Yeah, it’s behind the store. We have to go right now. We can’t miss this deal. They probably have everything in your cart back there. Let’s just go.” 

      He reached out and grabbed Rachael’s arm.

      Faster than Rachael could blink, Penny was behind him and had a switchblade knife to his throat.

      “Let her go. Now.” Penny hissed.

      “Fuck, man.” He dropped her arm. “It’s just a sale, shit. Fuckin’ ungrateful bitches.”

      Penny pointed the knife at him as he backed away.

      “Fuckin’ crazy ungrateful bitches.”

      “Fuck off, asshole!” Penny roared. “Let’s go.”

      Penny put one hand on Rachael’s back and the other hand on the cart. Before Rachael had a second to think, they were at the checkout.

      “There’s a man in this store who grabbed my friend. He said there’s a sale happening behind the store? I think he wanted to take her.” Penny explained what happened to the slightly terrified cashier. Rachael began to shake a little.

      “I’ll get security.” The clerk talked quietly. She picked up the phone and made a page over the intercom. “Cleanup on aisle 42.”

      The store was fairly large, but there was no aisle 42. Within seconds, a security officer was by their side. 

     “Are you ladies alright?” The officer quickly looked at the girls, then around at their surroundings.

     “Yes, sir.” Penny said. “Some crazy white guy said there’s a sale happening behind the store and tried to take my friend. He’s about my height, crazy hair, needed to shave.”

     The security officer quickly got their information from them and escorted them out to their car. He assured them they would check the security cameras and someone would be in touch to ‘resolve the issue’. Penny knew there wasn’t much they could do, but they loaded the stuff and they were safe in Penny’s car again.

      Rachael sobbed.

      “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I know that was scary for you. I’m kinda terrified myself. Are you okay?”

      “I’m *sniffle* I’m okay. *sob* You! You you you! With the knife and the guy!” Rachael continued sobbing again.

      “Me?”

      “My girlfriend is my bodyguard!” Rachael threw her arms around Penny, squeezing her tight.

      “Bodyguard? Girlfriend? I mean…”

      “You were SO BRAVE! You told the mean man to go away and he DID! And you OWNED HIM! You were like WOOSH! And that made him leave! You’re my big strong protector!!!” Rachael sobbed some more.

      “Oh, kiddo.” Penny stroked Rachael’s hair gently. “It’s okay now. We’re okay.”

      They hugged for a few more minutes. Penny managed to pry Rachael off and buckled her up. She drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch and ice cream. They used the drive through and ate in the car.

      “Okay.” Rachael licked her ice cream cone, then let out a shaky breath. She was still reeling from what had happened. “So that happened.”

      “I hate men.” Penny stared into the distance. Her face seemed to suggest she was imagining strangling many different men.

      “Me too.”

      “Are you going to be okay shopping, or do you just want to go home? And what about clubbing tonight?”

      “I don’t want to spoil your fun.” Rachael looked disappointed.

      “Sweetheart, some stranger just tried to grab you and do who knows what. If you want to go home, I have no problem taking you home. We do need to make at least 2 more stops, though. But I want to pack a bag to spend one more night at your house and then get something from one more store.”

      “I still want to go to that club tonight. But I don’t think I want to shop anymore. I’m pretty much done shopping for the weekend. I have groceries being delivered on Tuesday, so that’s already covered. I basically got everything I need. I’m still okay to do other stuff.”

      “Are you sure, Rachael?”

      “Yeah. As much as this whole situation sucked, I don’t want men running my life, either.”

     “Amen to that. Okay, kiddo. Finish your food, then buckle up. We’ve got places to go.”

-----

[katahnisharma]

the press tour [4] | t.h.

Word Count: 2.6 K

Warnings: none, i don't think??

Summary: You’re a new, inexperienced actress plucked from the obscurity of everyday life to play the lead in the reboot of a famous British Jane Austen novel, and Tom Holland just so happens to be playing your love interest.

A/N: This one was a little hard to write for obvious reasons. Also Tumblr apparently won't let me link things so if you’re looking for my masterlist, playlist, taglist, or writing challenge it’s in my bio <3 I also have to tag people a second time?? and because Tumblr screwed this up Saturday, I'm dropping the next chapter this Saturday 

Tom had been moody all day. He snapped at his driver for being two minutes late, got upset that his coffee was cold, and made his makeup artist storm out of her trailer. It was completely unlike him to act like such an asshole.

In other words, he was a mess.

"Dude, what is going on?" Jacob asked during an interview break. Tom stayed silent, walking past him to enter his dressing room. Jacob followed, determined to get an answer. He wasn't just going to let it go.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'm fine" Tom gritted his teeth, feeling himself get even more frustrated with all the questions. His mind was on you and on the date, he simply couldn't get you out of his mind. It didn't help that the news outlets had been reporting on the sighting of the two of you nonstop, even though Tom had been very careful to avoid paparazzi.

Everywhere he looked, there were pictures of you two. You looked so beautiful, Tom found it hard to remember that he wasn't supposed to be in love with you anymore. It hurt so much that Tom almost considered telling everyone he was going home to sleep for the next millennium.

He'd loved you and you'd rejected him in the worst way possible.

"Yeah right, you're behaving like a real movie star right now, you know that?" Jacob pressed, closing the door behind him. He knew Tom was never like this unless something really bad had happened. Jacob also knew that Tom hated being called a movie star.

Sure enough, he broke.

"If you have to know, it's about Y/N okay!" Tom yelled, spinning around and kicking a chair across the room. Jacob didn't flinch, he was just confused. He knew that Tom liked Y/N, and was planning to ask her out, but it seemed something had gone wrong. Which was odd, considering the paparazzi pictures he had seen told a different story.

"What, I thought you guys went on a date?" He asked, and Tom collapsed into a chair with his head in his hands. Jacob walked over and sat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder gently. He could hear Tom sigh and sniffle, and it made him sad to see his best friend like this.

"We did, but it didn't end well." Tom whispered, sitting up and wiping his eyes. Jacob realized he was crying, and he felt a little guilty about making Tom break like this. He considered calling Harrison to ask what to do, but decided against it. Tom needed to vent, so Jacob would listen.

"There's someone else, I saw the text. The worst part was that she didn't tell me, I had to find out like that. It was humiliating." Tom said, getting up and pacing the room. Jacob watched him, still not believing that you would do something like that. He had met you once, and thought you were the kindest person he'd ever met. It seemed so out of character, for you to do something like this.

"Are you sure about this? I mean, Y/N is the sweetest person ever. Did you talk to her about it?" Jacob asked, coming to stand behind Tom. Tom shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't asked you about it, but he figured he didn't need to. Tom knew what he saw.

"No, but I know what I saw Jacob. It was pretty obvious, and I wasn't about to tell her I'd been looking at her phone. I'm trying to get over her, but it's so hard. I really like her, and I have to do press with her." Tom groaned, throwing a pillow at the wall. It burst into feathers, each one cascading to the floor below. Jacob grimaced, going over to pick up the sack.

"Well, you've got time to get over her. You're here for two months, I'm sure you'll forget all about it. You're going to be super busy anyway." He said, and Tom felt a little better. He wouldn't see you, so maybe he could just wish the whole thing away. At the very least, he could just lay low for a while.

"Yeah, maybe." Tom sat down again, staring at the wall for a couple of minutes. Just as Jacob was about to leave, Tom's assistant Samual walked through the door. He looked like he had been running, and he panted a bit before handing Tom a note.

"Your PR manager is here, he wants to talk." Samual huffed, giving Jacob a wave. Tom quirked an eyebrow, taking the note from Samual's hand and giving it a read. It was scribbled pretty hastily, but Tom could just make out what it said

We need to talk.

"What's this all about?" Tom asked, but Samual shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea, the note had just been passed to him and it seemed pretty urgent. Jacob stood by the door as Tom put on his jacket. He really wasn't in the mood to speak to David, but he knew that it had to be important if a note had been couriered like this.

"Where is he?" Tom asked, and Samual pointed to a car on the outskirts of the set. The black Mercedes was parked next to the road, and Tom could just see David sitting in the back on his laptop. It was highly unusual for David to come all this way for something that could probably be discussed over the phone, which made Tom a little suspicious.

"Hey, Jacob tell Jon I'm taking five. I'll be right back." Tom walked out the door and broke into a quick jog. When he got to the car, he rapped on the window causing David to jump. The window rolled down and David peered out.

"Really? You could have just called ahead." David said, giving Tom a glare. Tom smiled deviously, leaning on the car door.

"Where's the fun in that? You wanted to see me?" Tom asked and David told him to get in. Tom slid into the backseat, and David shut his laptop. With the click of a button, he rolled up the divider and turned to face Tom.

"What is this, Tom?" David pulled out his phone and Tom grimaced. There on the screen was an article titled Tom and Y/N, Hollywood's next IT couple? Damn, he'd never escape these stupid pictures. David was frowning, and Tom knew he was in some serious trouble.

"Nothing, I went on a date with Y/N and it didn't go well. So what?" Tom asked and David sighed, closing the window. He went on Instagram and typed in the handle tomhollanders_spidey. Tom recognized the account, they were a big fan account that had started when he first began to act. The first picture that popped up was one of the paparazzi photos of you and Tom. Tom furrowed his brow, why did David care so much about this date?

"Read the comments for me." David said, handing Tom his phone.

So Tom began to read.

Ew, is this Y/N?? It's gonna be a no from me.

Oh my god nooooooo, Tom is wayyy to good for her.

Jesus, was there no one else?!?!

Not a fan of this relationship, he could do so much better.

Damn Tom needs some dating help.

Honestly Tom would look better with Zendaya.

I do not ship them at all.

First of all, Y/N is ugly and Tom is hot?? Dude needs glasses or something.

They'll break up after two months, Y/N is just using him for publicity.

Please God not another Hiddleswift.

"What the hell? I thought they liked us together" Tom muttered, not believing his fans could be so terrible. But he remembered some bad experiences from before, and just groaned instead. David shrugged, taking the phone back and putting his glasses on. Tom was observant enough to know that this meant David was about to cut to the quick.

"I don't know what happened between you, but you and Y/N cannot be a couple. Most of your fans are heavily against it and the press isn't entirely favorable either. We need some major damage control, I don't want this hanging over you for the Far From Home junket. Sony doesn't want that either." David said, turning to face Tom. Tom pursed his lips, looking over David's shoulder and out the window. Life would have been a lot simpler if he hadn't been an actor. He would have been able to date whoever he wanted.

But these were the cards he was dealt, and he would have to deal with them as best as he could.

"So, what do we do? I'm assuming you already have some sort of plan." Tom said and David brought out a manila folder. Tom rolled his eyes, but he knew David had been thinking about this for a while. It was the folder he'd dubbed The Dating File. It contained profiles of actresses that fans had either shipped him with or had expressed an interest in Tom at some point. When Tom had just started out, David had compiled the file as an emergency fix in case of a PR disaster.

Tom had always hoped they'd never have to use it.

"God, no not the Dating File! Isn't there anything else we can do?" Tom whined and now it was David's turn to roll his eyes. He liked Tom well enough, but David was used to working with actors like John Travolta and Adam Sandler who had a smidge less integrity when it came to PR.

"Like what? If you have another idea I'm all ears." David said, leaning back while Tom rested his head on his hand. Truthfully, Tom didn't have another idea, but he would have done anything to avoid the Dating File.

"Couldn't we just ride it out? It's not that serious, it's just a couple paparazzi pictures and some pissed off fans." Tom reasoned, and David shook his head emphatically.

"Not that serious? Tom, the Sony execs called me today wondering if they should cut some of your interviews during the junket, so that promotions don't get overshadowed by your love life. Unless you have a better idea, this is our best bet." David finished his lecture and handed Tom the file. Tom took it slowly and opened it gingerly.

"Shit. Fine, I guess I don't have a choice then. So what, I pick one like on the Bachelor?" Tom laughed sardonically, flipping through the pages. There were some pretty famous actresses compiled, including Chloe Grace Moretz, Elle Fanning, Hailee Steinfeld, Ella Purnell, Maia Mitchell, Olivia Holt, Saoirse Ronan, Kiernan Shipka, and Zendaya. Tom sighed and dropped the file back into his lap.

"I don't know, David. Does it even matter who I choose? It's not like we're getting married or something." Tom huffed, handing the file back to David.

"Fine, then I'll pick. We need an actress that the fans really ship you with or one that has previously said they would date you." David flipped through the profiles one by one, taking out the ones that would work best. Tom sat up, realizing that he knew an actress that would fit the bill perfectly.

"Zendaya. Z is our best bet. The fans all ship us, they're always asking about us in interviews. They already call us Tomdaya or whatever, what about her?" Tom asked. David looked up, a smile on his face. Thank god they'd picked one, he was going crazy dealing with Tom.

"You're right, she'd be perfect. She's well known and already has an established relationship with you. Good, I'll call her in so you two can talk." David picked up his phone, but Tom stopped him midway.

"Wait, what do you mean call her in? Is she here already?" Tom looked out the window, and sure enough there was Zendaya with Darnell and her PR manager Aubrey. David smiled and waved, and they all waved awkwardly back. Tom spun around, looking at David for an explanation.

"What? I knew you'd pick Zendaya, so I called her ahead of time. She's been here for about two hours now? Before you ask, yes she agreed to the whole fake dating thing. All you need to do now is hammer out some conditions, a sort of contract if you will. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to Starbucks." David rapped on the divider and motioned for Tom to get out. Tom slid out of the backseat and David drove off, just as if he had never been here.

"Hey, you." Zendaya said, going in for a hug. Normally, Tom would have been happy to see her. But this whole situation was so awkward that Tom barely hugged her back, nodding at Darnell and Aubrey. Zendaya flipped her gorgeous hair over her shoulder and brought out a notepad.

"So... guess we should sit down and iron out all the specifics. Aubrey, I can take it from here. Darnell, can you wait over there?" Zendaya pointed to a croft of trees a couple yards away, and Aubrey left set for her car. Tom turned to her and felt a sudden urge to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Z. I want you to know this was never my first choice, I know how awful it was with all the Tomdaya stuff. This isn't going to make it any easier on us, and things could get pretty ugly." Tom said, kicking a rock with his shoe. Zendaya sighed, but her smile was sincere.

"I know, it's not your fault. But remember, I agreed to this too so you can't take all the blame. It is what it is, this is the life we signed up for. As long as we keep is professional and authentic, we'll be fine. All they want is a show, and we can give that to them. We're trained actors, this is our job." Zendaya laughed, and Tom felt a little better. But the hole in his stomach convinced him that he wasn't over you yet.

"Right, let's write this contract then. We definitely have to keep feelings out of this." Tom started and Zendaya nodded.

"Agreed, even though I feel nothing for you. You're my friend, that's it. We also need a confidentiality clause, we can't tell anyone about this obviously. And very little kissing, of course." Zendaya said. Tom took the notepad and wrote down the clauses carefully and legibly. Usually David handled all the legal paperwork, but Tom felt better knowing he had written this himself.

"And lastly, either of us can terminate the relationship at any time. But said person must notify the other 24 hours before any major event or red carpet occasion. For convenience." Zendaya finished, and Tom wrote down the last clause with a flourish. At the bottom of the note, he drew two lines for their signatures. He offered Zendaya the pen first, and she signed her name in pretty cursive. Tom signed his well enough, and then closed the contract and handed it to Zendaya.

"There, all done. We are officially a couple now." Tom nudged Zendaya lightly and she laughed a little. She would have preferred choosing her own partner, but she couldn't think of that now. Instead, she tried to focus on how lucky she was that she would be "dating" someone she trusted, like Tom.

"Yes, the HMS Tomdaya ship has properly sailed. Brace yourselves, it's going to be a bumpy ride."

[prettyyoungandbored]

You and I {DouglasBooth!Nikki Sixx Chapter Six

Pairing: DouglasBooth!Nikki Sixx x Reader 

Summary:There was a time when all Y/N and Nikki had were themselves and Nikki’s dreams of creating the next great band. What happens when the dream comes alive?

Taglist: @fandomshit6000 @cosmicsskies @tashy-bear@versaceismehoe@thissongitsaboutyou@prettysureimgayxo @divaanya @yoinks-i-dont-feel-so-good @evrsncnewyork @technicallyvirtualmilkshake @keepcalm-and-beyou @itsametaphorbriansblog @tarahell @scarecrowmax @queen-introvert

A/N: Sorry this chapter is late - my puppy has been sick the past couple days and has been in need of some extra loving today. He’s all good now though. This chapter is going to be a little shorter, but I promise next chapter will really get shit moving. Also, I had to make some changes from stuff that happened in the movie. I hope you guys understand. As for the taglist, if I missed you PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know! I am trying to keep a list going and I’m trying to be as organized as possible and want to include everyone who wants to be tagged!

Previous Chapter                 Next Chapter

One Year Later...

“Mötley Crüe, no strangers to controversy, are under fire once again for their latest Satanic song ‘Shout at the Devil’. The group brushed off the accusations, claiming it’s shout at the devil, not with the devil. Parents, be warned, the group continues to play the song on tour with the Prince of Darkness himself.” 

Y/N shut off the television and took another bite of her toast. “It’s amazing what selective hearing can do to a person, let alone a group of people. What’s even funnier is that they don’t realize they’re the inspiration behind it.”

Doc, sitting across from her at the table, chuckled. “You got them talking which is good not just for the band but for you.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if to check something. “Don’t tell Nikki, but I’ve got offers from other record labels wanting you to write for them.” 

“Won’t Elektra be pissed?” she questioned, reaching for her coffee mug. 

He waved his hand. “They’ll live. Besides, it’s not like you signed a contract to write for them exclusively, right?” 

She shrugged. “I’m not sure to be honest. I know Nikki fought for me to get paid for helping them write songs but that’s it.” 

“I’ll have Tom send me a copy to look over. In the meantime, you should consider it.” 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and wiped her hands. “Humor me for a moment - what do you get out this? This whole you taking an interest in me. What’s in for it you?” 

Doc made a face. “I’ve been a manager for many years. I’ve watched talented people make mistakes and ruin what could’ve been a great career for them. I’m tired of seeing it and I don’t want to see it happen to the boys and I don’t want to see it happen to you. You walked by a group of people burning some records and calling rock n roll the devil. You took what you saw, took their words, took their emotions and put into a song - a goddamn rock ‘n roll, heavy metal song. One that is currently causing people to feel something - good or bad. That’s a gift you shouldn’t waste.” 

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile. She couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Nikki or the boys showed interest in her work. 

“Also,” Doc began clearing his throat, “you and I are gonna be on the road together a lot and I have feeling we’ll be teaming up to tame the hooligans.” 

She laughed and nodded. “I do have experience in handling drunk Nikki and will be happy to give you tips.”

“I’ve seen enough shit to know how to handle drunk musicians with dark pasts.” 

Y/N tilted her head. “Nikki is not like other artists. Believe me.” 

Doc sighed. “I won’t argue that.” He paused. “You ready for the concert tonight? First one of the tour.” 

The release of the “Shout at the Devil” album made Mötley Crüe a household name. Suddenly, it wasn’t just LA that wanted a piece of them - the world wanted them. Tonight marked the first night of their tour and it was to take place at the Forum. 

She grinned, taking another bite of toast. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Hours later and Y/N found herself rubbing Tommy’s back as the kid puked into the trash can in his dressing room.  

“Fuckin’ shit,” he grumbled. 

Just as Y/N grabbed a water bottle to hand to him, Tommy grabbed a beer bottle. Y/N threw her hands up in the air.  “Really?”

She walked out of Tommy’s dressing room, despite his pleadings, and went into Nikki’s. Nikki had been pacing the room, but stopped when Y/N came in. 

“How’s Tommy?” he asked. 

“Still puking his guts out and yet still wants to drink beer so not terrible.” 

Nikki let out a soft chuckle. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she came closer to him. “You alright?” 

He sighed. “Just nervous, that’s all. Feel like I’m gonna pass the fuck out or something.” 

Y/N took his hand and set him down on the couch before taking a seat beside him. Her hands gently combed through his teased, jet black hair. He put his head on her shoulder. 

“You’ve earned this,” she told him. “You’ve earned this tour, you’ve earned this recognition, you’ve earned all those thousands of people out there. This is your moment, ok?” 

“What if it all crashes and burns?” he whispered. “What if we just bomb out there and then no one likes us?” 

Y/N fought back her grin. “That’s not gonna happen and you know it.” 

He curled his head toward her. “You still gonna be there if this turns to shit?”

Her hands moved to his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His head turned towards her. “You’re my person.”

“You’re mine too.”

He leaned in and kissed her. His body turned towards her as his lips continued to attack hers hungrily. He moved on top of her before pulling his lips back. His hands moved up the hem of her little black dress. 

“What can you do in ten minutes?” he whispered. 

She grinned. “Let’s find out.

Standing backstage with minutes until showtime, Y/N, Nikki, Tommy, and Doc stood there in anticipation. Mick peeked out at the curtains and then turned them. 

“We’re gonna fucking die out there,” he grumbled as he made his back toward them. 

Nikki sighed as Y/N rubbed his arm soothingly. Just then, Tom entered. 

“Boys, on behalf of Elektra Records, I just wanna wish you good luck tonight.” He eyed around. “Where’s Vince?” 

“Just saw him in the dressing room getting ready,” Doc answered reassuringly.n

“Well this is your first big show, and there’s 18,000 people out there tonight so please don’t fuck this up.” 

Y/N would’ve killed Tom for saying that last bit, but instead she smiled. “You should look for Vince,” she suggested. 

Tom nodded and went off looking. Y/N glanced over at Nikki. “Just so happen Tom’s skanky date is also nowhere to be seen so put two and two together.” 

Nikki sighed. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. “ 

“Hey,” Doc said, “Fuck all that stuff Tom said. You guys just do what you do.”

Tommy, now excited by Doc’s words, dropped his stick. “Fuck.” 

Doc and Y/N chuckled as Nikki pushed him towards the stage. 

As Nikki and the others got set up, Doc and Y/N stood by one another. She then saw Tom come back to them with his skanky date. A few minutes later Vince, ran past them and made his way to the stage. 

“Think they’re gonna be ok?” Y/N asked Doc, worriedly. 

Just then, Tommy leaned over the rails and puked one last time. Doc chuckled. “Yeah, they will.”

Y/N then dashed to the risers and pulled Nikki away from the huddle he and the boys were in. She cradled his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his. She then pulled back. 

“Knock ‘em dead,” she mumbled, only loud enough for him to hear. 

He pecked her cheek as she ran back down to Doc. 

“You guys are SUPER cute! ” Tom’s date cooed. 

Y/N gave her a smile before whispering to Doc, “Please keep her away from me and Nikki.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, from Los Angeles, Mötley Crüe!”

The crowd went wild as the boys appeared on stage. Sparks from the stage flew out.  Vince went up to the mic as Mick played the opening chorus to “Shout at the Devil”.  

Shout shout shout

Shout shout shout It shout at the devil

He's the wolf screaming lonely in the night He's the blood stain the stage He's the tear in your eye Been tempted by his lie He's the knife in your back, he's rage He's the razor to the knife Oh lonely is our lives My heads spinnin' round and round But in seasons of wither We'll stand and deliver Be strong and laugh andShout shout shout Shout at the devil Shout shout shoutHe'll be the love in your eyes He'll be the blood between your thighs And then have you cry for more He'll put your strength to the test He'll put the thrill back in death Sure you've heard it all before He'll be the risk in the kiss Might be anger on your lips Might run scared for the door But in seasons of wither We'll stand and deliver Be strong and laugh and Shout shout shout Shout at the devil Shout shout shout Shout at the devil

Shout shout shout Shout at the devil Shout shout shout Shout at the devil

Shout shout shout Shout at the devil Shout shout shout Shout at the devil

Shout shout shout Shout shout shout Shout shout shout Shout shout shout Shout shout shout Shout shout shout

Y/N could feel tears form in her eyes as she clapped along with the rest of the audience. Nikki’s dream had come alive. 

[ofharrie]

tied down

Summary: Y/N wants a relationship, Harry doesn’t. Until jealousy got to him. Word count: 3.7k  Warnings and themes: smut, swearing, angst

masterlist / request

(A/N: A big thank you to @sweetdaisys  and @playmelikeacello for helping me out with the concepts as well as proofreading and a massive thank you to @alwaysjacked-up for taking the time to edit, review and provide me with lots of very helpful feedback you’re a legend Sarah! Hope you guys enjoy this one!)

Harry was seated on an old recliner right next to the Christmas tree, flickering blue and yellow lights were giving him a small headache that wasn’t being eased by the mulled wine he’d been nursing all night. It was Christmas Eve and everyone was busy in the kitchen preparing for dinner as well as Christmas Day dinner. He was meant to be in there, too; giving a helping hand with the baked goods or even just checking on the pots so they don’t boil over, but his mum insisted otherwise.

“Have some wine and put your feet up, love,” She told him after handing him a glass. “You’ve been busy all week. Just look after the kids in the living room, keep them entertained and out of the kitchen.”

But his nieces and nephews were all already pre-occupied, colouring in their drawings with a heavy hand, whilst munching on gingerbread cookies that Gemma baked for them earlier. He wanted to busy himself, try and distract himself from the fact that his phone still hadn’t buzzed in his pocket. This thought often spiraled into him wondering if she’s with him and what they were doing. Although Harry knew deep down, it wasn’t his place to wonder.

He’s had his chance and he blew it. Y/N has dropped many hints before that she had romantic feelings for Harry. But Harry didn’t know if he could commit to anyone. Back then he was 23, exploring his first time as a solo artist, trying to find his place in the world. For the first time ever, Harry felt free and the thought of being in a relationship evoked feelings of being trapped and starting again from square one.

But, at the same time, Harry did reciprocate those feelings. He was sure of it. But the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind that lingered everytime he was having difficulty falling asleep (which happened to be almost every night) prevented him from ever pursuing anything with Y/N. And yet, the ugly feeling of jealousy crept up on him but he knew it was selfish of him to continue wanting to be the only man in her life and at the same time, not want to commit to her.

“I can’t give you what you want, Y/N,” He finally admitted, partly to her but mostly to himself. “You deserve better than some guy who doesn’t know what he wants.”

”Then you have to quit being a jealous sook,” She spoke softly through tears falling from her cheeks. ”You can’t have both, H. It’s either just me and no one else, or you can’t have me at all.” Their argument broke Harry’s heart and he knew that he couldn’t keep doing that to Y/N.

They’d forgotten about the argument and decided to completely move past it. It was never spoken about again and for a brief period of time, Harry felt relieved. They were fine again and were back to talking every single day like they always have. But a few months later when Y/N introduced him to some guy named James, who wore too much cologne for his liking, he’d never wanted to talk about the unpleasantries of their complicated situation more than he did now.

When James came along, the daily text messages, snapchats and random drop-bys came to an inevitable halt. It seemed like Y/N was just a distant friend and Harry was beginning to miss the smell of her perfume that usually stuck around the decorative throw pillows in his sofa, or the banana pancakes that she made for him but never ate herself because she wasn’t a fan of the texture, or even her laugh that would interrupt his sentences whenever he tells her about something funny that happened to him.   

So he left her a voicemail, asking her to come to Christmas Eve dinner in hopes that they could talk about it. It had been two days since he called, and not once had she replied. It was safe to say he was epically losing the staring game with his phone.

It was when the timer for the apple pie started rattling against the marble countertop that Harry jolted; the buzzing in his pocket mimicking the timer’s motions. His haphazard movements almost made him spill his drink on to the faux fur carpet that laid underneath the recliner, frantically reaching for his phone from the tight confines of his front pocket.

Y/N 3:02PM

Sorry for the late reply I only just heard your voicemail. I’d love to come!! Need to catch up with Gem and Anne anyway. What time did you want me there? x

Harry 3:05PM

No worries. Around 5 maybe? Altho you won’t get ahold of mum until maybe after dinner lol

Y/N 3:10PM

Alright I’ll see you then

-

Y/N was, in fact, not with James. Instead, she was cooped up in her apartment, watching Love Actually, wrapped up in her duvet with a cup of tea in her hands. She had ended things with James a few days back, politely telling him that she didn’t see their relationship going any further due to her not seeing a future for the two of them. That’s what her mouth said, anyway. Her heart, however, knew that it was because she’s still hung up on Harry and there’s no way she could pursue a relationship without moving on from him first. Hence, her avoiding him.

Harry and her haven’t spoken since she broke up with James and she wasn’t planning on breaking that streak until she finally listened to Harry’s voicemail. Y/N supposed that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to spend Christmas Eve with Harry’s family, as she’s done so for the past five years that they’d been friends. But, then again, the thought of seeing Harry made her stomach flip.

A reply was eventually given, however, as Y/N heart finally caved as she found herself curating a message for Harry. Before she could think about just what she has done, she caught her thumb pressing on the blue arrow and sending her message.

Y/N threw her phone across the room, her actions surprising herself, but she didn’t dare move to pick it up. A few minutes passed and the phone eventually vibrated twice, indicating an incoming message. She hurriedly crawled off the couch and on to the carpeted surface on which the phone (luckily) landed on. There were no scratches or damages on the screen, instead just a reply from Harry.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She whispered to herself, pacing back and forth around the room with her phone in her shaky hand. “What do I do? What do I say to him?”

A whisper-scream burst out of her lips (being wary of disturbing her neighbours) as she typed a second message to Harry. She still wasn’t sure if she’s ready to see him or not, but what’s done is done.

-

The next two hours were spent in contemplation. Harry didn’t know if it was right of him to invite Y/N to dinner, despite knowing that she was most likely trying to avoid him. He knew her like the back of his hand, Y/N always tried to distance herself from him (even more so than she already has) whenever there was something wrong and the lack of conversations between them the past thirteen days had taken its toll on Harry. He had no idea what was going on but if he had to guess, he’d say it was something to do with that James guy she was seeing.

He was furious just from the thought of him being anything but an absolute gentleman to Y/N. His Y/N. Harry knew he should be with her but, at the same time, he knew he couldn’t give her was she wanted. The doorbell rang ten minutes before 5PM, alerting Harry, as he was sitting in his spot in the recliner, and placed his drink down on the coffee table before hurrying off to answer the door, knowing exactly who was behind it.

“Hi!” Y/N greeted accompanied by a big smile on her face. Harry embraced her into a hug, reciprocating his actions with her arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve missed you,” Harry mumbled against the crook of her neck, his voice coming out muffled.

“Missed you, too,” She replied, pulling back from the hug and letting herself into the house.

Much to Harry’s dismay, Y/N went straight into the kitchen, looking for his mum and his sister. Before he could steal her away from them, she had already agreed to help Gemma set the table for dinner, so Harry decided to go back to his babysitting duties instead.

The dinner went well, everyone got along as per usual and the food tasted amazing. It’s exactly what Harry’s been missing all tour long, what he wishes he could bring along with him wherever he goes. It was nearing 11PM when he finally had Y/N all to himself. Deciding to step away from the large group indoors, he took her to the backyard with a space heater running and a couple of blankets, pillows, and bean bags spread out on the patio.

“How’ve you been?” He asked, sitting across from her. “Haven’t annoyed me with your lame jokes for weeks.”

“Hey!” She scolded, playfully throwing a pillow at Harry. “My jokes are funny, Styles. You’re the one whose jokes are lame.”

Their shared laughter faded and instead was replaced by Harry’s voice. “But, seriously, Y/N,” He said. “Where have you been?”

“Just my apartment,” She replied, avoiding his gaze. “Haven’t really been out much.”

“Thought James would have taken you on a few dates,” Harry sneered. “Especially since I’m not around.”

Y/N knew that Harry would soon pester her about James so she quickly tried to change the subject in order to not cause any arguments between the two of them. She didn’t want to ruin the night, after all. “Your hair’s getting long again,” She commented, nodding towards his disheveled curls that were barely touching his shoulders.

“Yeah, been wanting to grow it out again,” Harry replied, running his fingers through his hair. “D’ya remember what happened last time my hair was this long?”

-

She could see the evident smirk on his face and knew exactly what he meant. Neither of them intended for it to happen. Y/N was just mindlessly playing with Harry’s hair, admiring how it looked cascading down to his shoulders and in the heat of the moment, accompanied by a few glasses of champagne, they found themselves caught in a feverish kiss with the sound of their lips moving against each other echoing throughout the empty hallway as they made their way to Harry’s bedroom.

It was Harry’s shirt that was discarded first, the faded and worn out fabric of his Rolling Stones shirt hitting the carpeted flooring of his bedroom. One of his hands roamed around the small of her back, slithering down to squeeze her ass and causing her to moan against Harry’s lips. His other hand was cupping her jaw, desperately trying to deepen the kiss as they made their way to his bed.

She pushed him onto the bed and Harry leaned back on his hands, using them for support as he watched Y/N rid herself of her own clothing, leaving only her bra and panties. They were mismatched; her body adorned a simple black t-shirt bra and coral undies but Harry didn’t mind, he adored her nonetheless.

Y/N straddled him, continuing their frenzied kissing. She was dizzy from it all, a good kind of dizzy. She never thought any of this would happen, and yet there they were, about to fuck on his bed. She tried pushing those thoughts aside, instead focusing on unzipping Harry’s jeans.

“Can I?” She whimpered against his lips. “Please?”

“Can you what, love?” Harry asked, moving from kissing her lips to proceeding to sponge kisses all over her neck.

“Want to, uh,” She stammered, feelings Harry’s bulge rub up against her centre. “Wanna suck you off, H.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked mockingly, smiling against her throat. “Want my cock in your mouth before I fuck your pretty little cunt?”

She couldn’t help but pull at his long hair as he purposely thrusts up against her, almost soaking her panties with his actions. “Can I?”

“Of course you can,” Harry replied followed by a lingering kiss on her lips. “Anything for my girl.”

She stood up, removing her bra before getting on her knees in front of Harry. He lifted from the bed, helping Y/N remove his jeans and boxers before throwing them off the side. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her mouth water; Harry was so big and thick, she was almost scared to suck him off in fear that she’ll disappoint him.

“You’re so big,” She whispered, diverting her gaze towards Harry’s eyes. “Don’t know if I can take all of it.”

“Don’t have to take it all, love,” He said, stroking her hair. “Just do what feels right to you.”

She placed a hand around his shaft, giving him a few slow strokes before sponging kisses along his length. Harry was already a mess. He watched as her tongue darted out to give his hard cock a few kitten licks, paying special attention to his leaking tip. She hollowed her cheek as she sucked on his tip eagerly, letting out a sigh of content. Her tongue returns to the base of his shaft, licking a fat stripe all the way to the head of his cock.

“Such a good girl,” Harry whimpered, giving her a lazy smile.

She took him back into her mouth, gliding her wet lips along his tip before taking half of him into her mouth, feeling every ridge of his length against her tongue. Harry watched intently as Y/N bobbed her head, the light sound of her gagging as she eagerly tried to take all of him in her mouth. He could feel her swallow around him every so often and Harry knew he would cum soon if she kept going.

“Y-you have to,” Harry stammered, his jaw dropping as she eased more of him into her mouth. “Gotta pull off, love. Need to be inside you.”

She obeyed eagerly, slowly pulling off him. Harry almost let out an embarrassing whine after seeing the sinful look of Y/N, with her lips all puffy and shiny with a string of spit connecting them to the head of his cock.

“On the bed, love,” Harry ordered, his hand on the back of her neck gently guiding her up from her knees. Y/N sat on the bed, leaning against her forearms as she watched her best friend’s fingers curl around the waistband of her panties and slowly slide them down her thighs, leaving her completely naked for Harry to admire. He was quick to restart their kissing, wanting nothing more than to be inside her.

Harry began to tap gently on her clit, eliciting a small gasp from Y/N. He then proceeded to play with her throbbing clit, his fingers softly grazing along the button that was slippery from her wetness.

“Harry,” She moaned, feeling very sensitive. “Just want you inside me. Please.”

“Need to open you up first,” He replied, his fingers wandering lower to her opening. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” She replied surely, looking up at Harry whose long hair has been disheveled from their activities. “I can take it.”

“You sure about that?” Harry teased, giving her a smug smirk, before sliding two of his fingers knuckle-deep inside of her. She let out an audible gasp, surprised by his actions. Harry groaned, feeling her juices coat his fingers. His thumb began rubbing against her clit all the while his digits were gliding in and out against her wet walls.

“Get inside me, please,” She begged again, giving Harry a pleading look. He didn’t listen, instead pumped his fingers faster and deeper until he reached that special spot and had Y/N writhing underneath him. But before she could cum, Harry removed his fingers and put them in his mouth, savouring the taste of her juices.

“Taste so fucking good,” He muttered, giving Y/N a deep kiss and letting her taste herself on his tongue. Harry took his length with one hand and the other pinned Y/N’s thigh against the mattress. Slowly, he guided his leaking cock towards her entrance, pushing in inch by inch and watching as Y/N’s eyes roll back and her jaw drop in pure ecstasy.

“Feel so full,” She whispered, grabbing onto Harry’s biceps. It was a surreal experience, finally fucking Harry, bare and raw nonetheless. It was dizzying, the feeling of his hard cock inside of her and stretching her out like no man ever has before. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, occasionally pushing him closer towards her as an involuntary response to how good his throbbing cock felt inside of her.

“You’re so tight, love,” Harry moaned, jaw going slack as Y/N pulled on his hair. “Have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Y/N let out a small and breathless laugh as she felt Harry’s curls tickle her neck, followed by a loud moan as his thumb began rubbing her swollen clit. “So warm and tight, wanna be inside you all the time,” Harry whispered, his voice muffled as he pressed kisses all over her neck and chest. His thrusts were growing shallow, desperate for a release from the both of them.

“I’m gonna-“ Y/N’s words were cut off by Harry grinding against her spot, making her see swirls of colour as her eyes rolled back. “Oh, fuck, Harry! I’m so close.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” Harry begged, his brows knitted as he continued fucking Y/N, still continuing to play with her clit that was slippery wet with both their juices. “Cum for me, cum around my cock.” A loud moan came from her mouth as Y/N came, her walls tightening around Harry’s cock triggering his own orgasm.

-

That night was never spoken of again, especially after Y/N started seeing James, and neither parties knew if the other one regretted it. Until Harry brought it up again. “Was a fun night, huh?” Harry said suggestively, giving her a smirk. “Bet you haven’t had a night as fun like that with James.”

“We’re actually no longer seeing each other,” Y/N quickly replied, looking away from Harry.

“Oh,” Harry quietly spoke. “Why’s that?”

“We didn’t want the same things, I guess,” She turned her gaze towards her twiddling thumbs.

“And what is it that you want?” He asked, a hopeful look on his face.

“You know exactly what I want, Harry,” She replied followed by a humourless chuckle. “But apparently that’s too much of me to ask.”

“Y/N…” Harry trailed off, not knowing what to say to her.

“It’s okay,” Y/N dismissed. “I know what you said before and I understand. It just really fucks me off that you have the audacity to be angry and jealous because I’ve decided to quit pining over you and instead start seeing other people. Just doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“I’m not angry nor am I jealous,” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s not at all how I’ve been acting. Was just teasing you, love.”

“Really?” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “You expect me to believe that? I mean for fuck’s sake, Harry, you’ve been acting like a child about this whole situation. You don’t get a say in who I date. You’re just my friend.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to just be your friend anymore,” Harry rebutted.

“No!” She growled, standing up from her beanbag. “You’re being so unfair and you can’t even see it. You don’t just get to choose when you want me because it benefits you. You either want me because you do, or you don’t want me at all.”

“I do! I love you, Y/N!” Harry argued, also getting up from his seat and leveling with her. “Fuck, of course, I love you. You’re my best friend!”

“That’s exactly it!” She groaned, rolling her eyes at him. “You only love me as a best friend and yet here you are, constantly giving me shit for dating other people.”

“No, Y/N,” Harry interrupted as he moved closer, cupping her cheek and looking directly at her eyes that were welling up with tears. “You don’t get it. I’m in love with you. I know I haven’t been the best at dealing with my feelings, and I know I don’t deserve another chance with you after I made it very clear that I don’t want to commit to anyone. I also know that I broke your heart and I never apologised for it.”

“Harry-“ Y/N began to speak but was cut off by Harry’s words.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke quietly, followed by a kiss planted on her forehead. “It’s true when they say that you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone. Because every single time you weren’t with me and you were with James instead, it made my heart ache. I didn’t realise that you filled the void inside me until it was dug out again.”

There was a brief pause, a calm silence blanketing over the two of them outside the chilly patio with the orange burn of the space heater radiating a faint illuminance. Y/N wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist, bringing him closer to her. Harry’s heart was hammering against his ribs and he knew that Y/N could probably feel it with her cheek pressed to his chest.

“If we’re going to do this,” She began to speak, looking up to meet Harry’s gaze. “Then you have to be serious about it. You have to commit to the relationship. Are you really willing to do that, Harry?”

“I’d do anything for you, my love.”

[slvtbible]

ain’t like the other

Warnings: none!

Pairing: black!Y/N x longhaired!harry

[this is a small blurb for all my beautiful Melanin queens out there! Sorry if it sucks:/]

**

Harry wishes his friend’s wedding party would just be over by now,

It’s way past 11 pm and he’s tired as hell. Has been working 24/7 to finish his second album before the deadline finally hit him, his fans deserves the best and that’s why he won’t sleep until he finishes all of it. And because he’s too kind towards people, he couldn’t say no to one of his best mate, so he forces himself to get out of the bed—after only getting 2 hours of sleep— and head out,

Now, he’s starting to regret it. He wishes he just lays his ass on the comfortable bed and never wakes up.

Right now he’s standing alone as he leans his back against the wall, looking over at the newlywed who shares a soft kiss to which the crowd cheer on. He feels his body is about to collapse but it’s not entirely his fault, and it doesn’t feel right for him to excuse himself from the party just to get to sleep.

That would be so selfish of him and so he needs to wait.

“Harry! Thanks for coming mate!” His friend clasps his shoulder as he’s coming from his side, “i know your schedule has been very hectic at the moment but I appreciate it that you took your time to come here.”

Harry nods, giving his friend a dimpled smile. “Won’t miss it for the world, man. Finally has tied the knot, eh?” He jokingly asks

His friend chuckles, letting a small sigh escapes his lips as his eyes stares at his new wife who are laughing and taking pictures with her bridesmaids,

“Yeah, still can’t wrap it around my head to the fact that I’m a married man.” He takes a sip of his bourbon drink,

“Still can’t believe it either mate. She’s a keeper. What a lovely woman she is.” Harry compliments, nodding over to his best friend’s wife,

“Back off Haz, she’s mine.” Trent jokes, chuckling to himself,

Harry responds with a laugh, nudging his shoulder with his knuckles softly, careful not to spill his drink,

“Not planning to steal her.”

The two shares a laugh after, and soon begins to talk about their new lives. Trent asks him about Harry’s family back home and how’s his new album going. The two man even jokes about how Trent used to have a crush on Gemma but failed to asked her out because she already got engaged.

Harry also gives him few advices on how to keep their marriage long-lasting, though he hasn’t been married. He has seen enough of marriages that has failed and hasn’t. His parents for example,

“Well, gotta go. Chelsea needs me to arrange a few pictures in the back or something. See you later H.” Trent smiles and slaps his shoulder playfully before walking away to his new wife,

Harry’s left to swim with his thoughts yet again. He should’ve bring a plus one to this wedding. But he’s already fed up with the media stirring up some shit about him. If he asked one of his friends who’s a boy, people will immediately assume he’s gay and if he asked one of his girl friends to be his date, media will making up rumors about how she’s Harry new girl and shit.

That’ll only create more drama between the fans and he doesn’t want that. He had enough of fans arguing about his sexuality when himself hasn’t even confirmed yet, people may think he hasn’t seen what they written about him. He knows

He loves his fans to death but God forbid to say that they can be such huge pain in the ass sometimes. But he chooses not to say anything, because he’s known as the nicest guy on earth

Or at least that’s what he thought,

“This scene isn’t really your cup of tea, is it?”

He hears a soft yet [he can assume] fake British accent speaks from behind him,

In curiosity he turns around and he swears that she’s the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on in this party.

Her hair is dark—almost black— colour, pulled into a high bun which he can easily make out her long lashes that compliments her big brown eyes. Pink lips gloss paints her plump lips that he can’t help but stare at for what it feels like eternity,

What captivates him the most is her white shoulder off dress that stops right above her knees. Contrasts beautifully with her dark and glowing skin tone, and shapes the perfect large portion of her breasts and the rest of her curves that he has been longing stare as he does with her lips.

“Sorry that was bad. I’m not British actually but i went to school in London.” She says blushing a bit, stirring the drink with the olives

He smiles, setting his attention to the beautiful girl standing before him. “Really? Thought you were real posh for a sec.”

She rolls her beautiful eyes but manages to smile anyway, “right? Did you know that they’re looking for the 2.0 Scary Spice at the moment. I just knew i had to volunteer.”

Both laugh at her joke and he can’t help but notice how pretty her smile is and how her eyes squinting a bit as she does it. It’s truly the most prettiest sight he has ever seen in a while,

He learns that her name is Y/N and she just graduated from Kingston University for a Criminology major. And now she’s taking a gap year before she continues to pursue a major in Master but she has been having second thoughts about that.

“Bride or groom?”

She’s quick to shake her head, waving her hand off. “Neither. Just here for the free drinks because my sister asked me to be her date tonight.”

He nods in understatement, not once tearing his eyes from her beautiful face as she continues rant about the lack of music taste in this wedding and how she says that they should hire her to manage the music section,

Laughing, he pushes his soft hair back and says “you look like a person who knows their music.”

She hums in agreement. “I don’t know about you but, I’m into Kehlani, Sevyn Streeter and BJ The Chicago Kid kind of stuff. Or something relevant to those people.”

He nods again, not really knowing who are those people she has just said. He can’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it,

“Never heard of them actually” He shyly admits, sipping on his drink as he watches her shocking reaction,

“What the fuck?” He chokes on his drink when he hears her cuss, “Who even are you Harry Styles?”

He shrugs and smiles innocently at her which only receives a jaw dropping reaction from her,

“Lemme guess. You’re like Frank Sinatra and The Beatles kind of man, ain’t you?”

He holds his hands up, “you got me” he jokingly says, watching her shake her head and lets out a small giggle,

It’s the most adorable sound ever,

“I can tell. You should try and listen to RnB for your own sake. Jhene Aiko is great too, got that kind of chill vibes you can listen to in midnight.” She suggests, pushing a fringe out of her face,

He listens carefully to what she’s saying and he’s not pretending. He makes a mental note that he has to check these artists and their projects out, perhaps adding them to his playlist as well so that he won’t forget,

Two hours full of them sharing their music taste, the food in the wedding, upcoming tours and stuff. She mainly asks about his happiness and favorite artists other than The Beatles, and he finds himself enjoying these type of conversation. She sees him as Harry not Harry Fucking Styles,

They have gotten closer to the fact that they are sitting on the chairs that has been placed on the outside, enjoying each other’s company and how their shoulders casually bumping with each other because of how close they are right now.

She shares about her experience on going to college for Criminology major, discussing how some people in her uni are major pain in the ass because they sometimes would fight over small little things. And the way she delivers the words causes him to laugh even more,

He loves watching her talk. It’s calming to him,

“Oh shoot, i gotta go.” She suddenly says, looking down to the time on her phone, “I’m sorry Harry.”

His face falls in disappointment, not wanting her to leave just yet. “What? Why? Do you have work tomorrow?”

“An interview to be exact and i need this so bad.” She sighs, standing up to her feet as he stands as well,

“Oh well, want me to take you home?”

“You don’t have to H. I drove here.” She smiles, drinking her last gulp of the martini and place the glass down. “I had a great time with you Harry. Really did. So it’s not because of you alright? Calm your tits.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he laughs at her choice of words. “We’ll see eachother again right?”

“Of course, Harry. You have my number right?” She asks with a grin, winking before she pecks him on his lightly stubble cheek,

“See you around Harry.”

**

Lemme know if y’all want part 2!!

[johnabradley]

Exclusive: Carole Middleton's first interview: 'Life is really normal - most of the time'

‘Two things you need to know. Carole’s very, very nervous, and she doesn’t do sofas,’ the Telegraph’s team on the shoot warned me the night before I went down to Bucklebury in west Berkshire to interview her. ‘When we asked her to perch on one,’ they continued, ‘Carole’s response was, “Who sits around on a sofa?”’

Sure enough, a couple of days after the shoot, when Carole, clutching a soya latte (she’s recently gone vegan/flexitarian) and slightly late, sweeps into the boardroom at the HQ of Party Pieces, the business she set up in 1988, she doesn’t sit down but immediately takes me on a tour of her empire. Just like that. I don’t quite know what I expected – not trumpets, but perhaps some sense of ceremony – but then I don’t think she knew what to expect either. She’s never done an interview before.

The tour goes on so long that at one stage I wonder whether she’s planning to do the entire interview on the hoof as part of a cunning ruse to get it all over and done with before I’ve had time to press record. It does, however, give me time to adjust my retinas to the life-size Carole, inevitably smaller, but also more youthful, than the version the world has become accustomed to. This, lest we forget, is the future British king’s grandmother – arguably the second most famous granny on the globe.

In one sense, empire, as Carole Middleton would be the first to point out, is far too pompous a word for the collection of brick sheds and barns that Party Pieces has, over the years, colonised on a country estate in Berkshire, a 15-minute drive from the Middleton family home. There are a couple of large warehouses with radios blaring pop music and shelves of pre-filled party bags, fancy-dress costumes, table runners, Let’s Be Mermaids garlands, rose-gold team bride plates and much, much more. ‘And this is just a small part of it,’ says Carole.

There are around 7,000 products in total on the Party Pieces website. She’s seen the cactus, llama and fern trends come and, in some cases, go. But there will always be dinosaurs and princesses. The largest part of the business – at least half – remains children’s party accoutrements, but now there are also accessories for baby showers, 30th and 50th birthdays.

The subtext of all this is that Party Pieces is a serious business that was successfully operating a long time before what Carole later refers to as Catherine’s ‘impact’. It’s a private company and they won’t release figures, but during their busiest periods, they dispatch around 4,000 orders a week.

The beamed open-plan office is where most of her 30-strong admin team (none of whom seems given to hat-doffing in her presence) sit. As does Carole. ‘It’s better to be with everyone so you can see what’s going on,’ she notes. ‘They say it’s a bit like a hurricane arriving when I come in.’

The many Americans who order from Party Pieces would be charmed to know that chickens ran through central HQ until the Middletons moved in. But the décor is more Ryman than Soho Farmhouse. The beige carpets are worn, with several threadbare patches, and there are MDF desks and swivel chairs. The walls in the small boardroom are banana yellow.

Carole herself, however, is a vision in a khaki Ralph Lauren blazer and black T-shirt, black skinny M&S trousers (her legs are phenomenal) tucked into Russell & Bromley riding boots, and minimal jewellery – small drop earrings, a couple of gold rings and a thin gold chain with which she constantly toys. It is classic Middleton style, although Carole tells me she far prefers dresses (‘not ones that are tight round the middle though, my shape’s changing’). Maybe it’s the hair. She gets it done locally and it’s shorter and glossier than in recent pictures. The fact that it seems slightly darker emphasises how alike she and her daughter Catherine, the future Queen of England, look. Perhaps it’s the golden tan or the light-touch make-up – the kind where you can’t see the edges. But whereas Catherine and her sister Pippa look much the same on camera as off, Carole, all flashing, watchful hazel eyes and fluttery, girlish nerves is, at 63, far more striking, delicately boned and simultaneously softer-looking in real life than in pictures.

But the voice is what everyone wants to know about. Is it stewardessy (in her early 20s she worked for British Airways)? Elocutioned? Lynda Snell? None of the above. The best description is probably modern posh – not affected, not mockney. If we’re on a scale of BBC presenters, I’d say Mishal Husain. In terms of warmth… maybe Martha Kearney.

Although she hardly ever looks me in the eye, she is very cosy once she gets going: smart and interested. On the shoot, she asked everyone about themselves and dispensed breastfeeding tips to the make-up artist. I don’t think the solicitude towards others is forced, though it does take her a while to warm up (not in terms of temperature, she’s obviously got terrific circulation as there’s a bracing chill in that boardroom). But she does seem like a lot of fun.

You can see why the Middletons remain such a close family (Catherine texted her on the shoot to wish her luck) and why they all, spouses in tow, gravitate towards Granny Middleton. ‘I do love a good party,’ she says later. ‘I’m definitely a night owl and a real chatterbox. My children look at me sometimes…’

Obviously we’re not here to discuss the children, and certainly not their spouses (Pippa is married to James Matthews, a former racing-car driver, hedge-fund manager and heir to the Scottish feudal title Laird of Glen Affric; James, after an on-off relationship with TV presenter Donna Air, is currently single; their oldest daughter, we know about). Carole and her husband Michael have been commendably discreet during the 13 or so years since Catherine began dating the Duke of Cambridge. As Carole says, ‘Over the years, it’s proved wise not to say anything.’

But Party Pieces, her one-stop-solves-all business, has been going for more than 30 years, ‘and I just thought I should celebrate a little’. And it is a good story, part Catherine Cookson, part careers manual for would-be entrepreneurs, as well as being a business that, says Carole, has been flagrantly copied. Her own role model she says, was Laura Tenison, founder of kidswear brand JoJo Maman Bébé, whom she went to watch at a few conferences in the early days of her own company.

Carole Goldsmith, as she was, seems to have had a strong work ethic from the start. Her father Ron was a painter and decorator. Her mother Dorothy, aka The Duchess (because she always looked so impeccable), was a character. ‘Everyone adored my mother,’ she says when I relate how the taxi driver who picked me up from a local train station and drove me to the Party Pieces HQ, told me she’d been a close friend of The Duchess.

Ron and Dorothy moved to Berkshire from west London 10 years after Carole and Michael. Carole’s own closeness to her children and grandchildren is an echo of the relationship she had with her own family, which was ‘small but tight’. Her younger brother, ‘Uncle Gary’ of Maison de Bang Bang fame (at the time of Catherine and William’s wedding, the press had a joyful time detailing Gary Goldsmith’s party reputation), is also an entrepreneur.

Carole spent her first six months in a council flat in Ealing. She initially left school at 16, got a job with the Prudential in Holborn and hated it. ‘It was one of those massive offices with rows and rows of desks.’ So far, so early 1970s. But Carole knew she could achieve more and asked Ron if she could return to school to do her A levels. She got four: art, economics, English literature and geography, which she wanted to teach. ‘But my parents couldn’t afford to put me through college, so I thought I’d see if I could get a bit of money together and fund myself.’

While she’s recounting this, she suddenly remembers she got a job – she can’t remember the year – on the John Lewis A level trainee scheme. This has always been considered the gold standard in retail and was extremely hard to get on to. Carole is bemused by her own memory lapse: ‘Gosh… how did I forget? I can’t even remember when it was. I’ll have to check with Mike.’

This is a woman who clearly spends even less time navel-gazing than she does lounging on sofas. Too busy cooking. She adores cooking. ‘I probably have more cookery books than anything.’ At the moment her favourites are Mary Berry (‘she does use a lot of cream, though’) and Amelia Freer. The combination of the nation’s favourite baker and the fashionable nutritional therapist, who helped singer Sam Smith lose 3½st, seems very Carole.

The John Lewis gig was a dream, particularly her stint in china and glass at Peter Jones, which is where she realised how interested she was in finding out what kind of merchandise sold. But then they told her she had to do a spell on the shop floor as a sales assistant. ‘I thought, blow that. I’m not doing that for six months – it was really boring.’ So she got a secretarial job (she can still do Pitman shorthand) at BEA (before it merged with BOAC to become British Airways in 1974), but didn’t think much of secretarial work, either, so brushed up her French and got a job as ground staff.

‘It’s not like it is now,’ she explains, coming over momentarily a touch Mrs Bennet. ‘You had to be able to speak another language. It was almost like being at university.’ I think from all this we can conclude that Carole Goldsmith was pretty clear she wasn’t going to be fobbed off with also-ran situations.

The newly formed BA had trained too many pilots, so it was redeploying them on the ground and Carole found herself working alongside them as well as other senior staff.

Enter Michael Middleton, six years her senior, ‘rather shy’ but very handsome… A year after they married, she had Catherine; 18 months after that Pippa and then the Middletons moved to Jordan for three years, where Michael worked as a aero manager for an international air station (he was never a pilot). Jordan life sounds comfortable. There was a lot of socialising at the British Embassy, some help at home and the girls were in nursery school. But, says Carole, ‘I wasn’t convinced I wanted to be an expat mum and Mike’s job there was coming to an end.’

By the time they returned to the UK in 1987, Catherine was four and a half, Pippa 18 months younger and Carole, now 32, was pregnant with their third child, James. ‘I thought, “Oooh, bills to pay.” But I also had this strong feeling that I hadn’t achieved anything. I got married at 25, had Catherine at 26…’

Party Pieces launched the same year her son was born, in 1987, with a simple idea about a one-stop place where you could get everything you need for a children’s party. Carole visited the Birmingham Spring Fair, where she sourced some suppliers of paper plates and cups, stuck up a self-designed flyer at Catherine’s local playgroup in Bucklebury, and began stuffing bags from her kitchen table.

Business was steady if unspectacular – this was pre-internet, so responses weren’t always immediate. But then she had the brainwave of advertising with The Red House, a children’s book club she’d subscribed to once her brood began to read: 10,000 flyers to begin with and then 100,000. That’s when Party Pieces really took off.

She moved from her kitchen to a small business unit in nearby Hungerford – Mike built the packing benches. ‘That’s when Michael gave up his job at BA and came in. My mother thought that was big, because at that stage he probably wouldn’t have got employment again, but we could see this was a business that could scale up.’

When I ask about struggles or disasters she more or less shrugs off the notion. ‘We were pretty much the only ones doing this sort of thing when we started. It was really clear almost from the start that this was going to work. I got help from other mums – paperwork and that kind of thing… I think it’s easier to start a business when you’re young. You’re less aware of the pitfalls and maybe you have less of a lifestyle to lose.’

Listening to Carole talk about those early years, what comes across is her resourcefulness and stoicism. She feels they were lucky. ‘Running a business is really very simple: you buy things and sell them for a profit.’ Mike’s decision to quit his job was, she says, their wild card. She is very clear that the business was her idea. ‘And it was a good idea or it wouldn’t have taken off.’ Were there no sleepless nights over the financing? ‘We never took really huge risks. We had to fund our own growth,’ she replies. She doesn’t get stressed, she says, although she was clearly anxious about this interview. Maybe that British Airways training ingrained the necessity of appearing serene while paddling furiously below the surface.

When I ask about juggling a fledgling business with three small children, particularly when working mothers were not as common as they are now, she responds instantly. ‘It was my business, so I could work around the holidays.’ She makes it sound straightforward. She understands the tussle, though, but in the end, she’s a boss. ‘In this office, I see the challenge of working mothers – but if I need them here…’

There was spillage into their home life, ‘Mike and I often talked about work in the evenings or on holiday, but we enjoyed it. I never really felt I was a working mother although I was – and the children didn’t either. They grew up with it.’

The girls were at school till 6pm. That’s a long day: someone who observed them from a distance says Catherine and Pippa were always hard workers at school and encouraged by Carole to hone accomplishments that would serve beyond academia, such as skiing. ‘James would get picked up – very occasionally by someone else – and come back to the office and be here with me,’ continues Carole. ‘I was often finished by 6pm and I didn’t have a long train journey. I think it’s really good to work. It was part of the children’s lives – it still is – and they’d come and help. They did a lot of modelling. Catherine was on the cover of one of the catalogues, blowing out candles. Later on, she did some styling and set up the First Birthday side of the business. Pippa did the blog. I still value their ideas and opinions.’

There was never any doubt in the Middletons’ minds that they would base their family and business in Bucklebury. ‘Do you live in London?’ Carole asks me, looking sympathetic when I nod. Later, when she drives me to the train station, scooping a pile of papers and a plastic cup from the passenger seat of her Range Rover, to save me phoning for possibly non-existent taxis, she shows me the spot she and Michael first fell in love with.

She loves this tiny pocket of remoteness – the fact it’s only an hour from London, that she can take their four spaniels and one golden retriever (James, who lives with them when he’s not in London, shares two of the dogs) for a long walk straight from their house, and the solid, picturesque red-brick architecture. ‘We really fell on our feet moving to this area,’ she says. Their first home was ‘a very sweet semi-detached cottage. We stayed there until Catherine was 13, so the children spent a lot of their youth there.’

There were two more moves – Oak Acre, a detached house where Prince William famously landed his Chinook helicopter in 2008, and the more secluded, seven-bedroomed, Grade II- listed Bucklebury Manor. She’s good at nesting, she says. ‘If you choose your house wisely, you don’t have to do too much. We almost just replicated what we did before. Farrow & Ball Cord and Hay [both shades of beige] – you can’t go wrong.’

In photos, Bucklebury Manor is what estate agents would call impressive, a description that must set Carole all ajangle. She’s on a mission to appear as unaffected and normal as possible. Later, when we’re discussing her love of Christmas trees and how she likes to have as many as possible in the house, including one in the grandchildren’s rooms, ‘so that they can decorate it themselves’, there is one of many long pauses, while she ponders the consequences of a seemingly innocuous exchange. ‘That makes me sound as though I live in a mansion, doesn’t it?’ Erm, you’re the future king’s grandmother, I think. Would a mansion be out of the question?

Maybe she’s right to be cautious. Over the years it has been she, rather than Michael, who has caught the full beam of the Middleton-focused attention, much of which fixes on the idea of her as a pushy arriviste. She stopped reading the stories about herself online over a year ago. I’m surprised it took her so long. ‘Well, I thought it was better to know what people thought. But it doesn’t make any difference. I’m not really sure how I’m perceived now,’ she says. ‘But the thing is… it is really normal – most of the time.’

When I ask her where she most likes to shop, there’s another pained pause. ‘How’s this going to make me sound?’ I half- expect her to confide that her secret vice is Harrods’ personal- shopping department, but only if she can get it closed to the public. But no. Peter Jones is her happy place. ‘The staff are lovely and they all know me.’ She also loves Burford Garden Company in the Cotswolds, where she and Pippa will happily spend the best part of a day.

More Middle England you cannot get. She even loves Michael McIntyre. She could be protesting too far when she later opines that Jigsaw is a bit pricey. She loves Samantha Sung’s shirt dresses and Goat, but likes to shop in the sale. She finds the music in Selfridges a bit overwhelming and she only very occasionally patronises Catherine Walker, but I suspect this is how the Middletons really are.

Carole is known to drive a hard bargain when she negotiates – she’s not a businesswoman for nothing. She seems genuinely concerned that if I take the train back to London from a different station, I’ll have to buy another ticket (all of £22). There are things they spend money on – property, children’s education, holidays – and things they consider to be a waste of money. Fashion is definitely a bit suspect. ‘Do you think it’s important?’ she asks me. When I say it’s a huge UK success story, that first impressions are clearly important and that style, rather than fashion, is worth cultivating, she nods. ‘Now you put it like that, I see what you mean.’

In some ways, there’s a touching naivety about Carole. I don’t think any of the family, with the possible exception of James (and this is based solely on pictures; I’ve never met him) give one iota about being cool. She’d rather be doing other things than clothes shopping. Party Pieces remains a full-time job for her.

‘I don’t see myself stopping [work]. If I did I’d have to have so many projects on. I’d have to redecorate the house. I’d love to travel, but then I’d miss the grandchildren. No,’ she ponders, as if just deciding this, retirement is not on the cards. ‘I’ve got a billion ideas I still want to do.’

[harryandmolly]

The Long Way Home -3-

Summary: His world is a little rocked when Shawn is joined on his 2019 world tour by Emma, a former child star with a chip on her shoulder and a voice that haunts him.

Warnings: Language, alcohol and drug use, soft yearning eyes

Word count: 4.7k ish

Once the set-skipping gauntlet was thrown, Emma couldn’t take it back.

She knew what it meant to skip the headliner’s first set of the tour. She knew it made her look worse than she probably already does in his eyes, but she couldn’t stand it. She knew if she had to be there, to watch him light up the crowd doing what he loved, singing his soul, she’d have a meltdown. And she doesn’t have time for a meltdown.

The first show in Amsterdam was fine, technically speaking. She got through it as expected with precision and very little style. She should’ve been expecting Shawn and his friends there sidestage but it slipped her mind and she wasn’t mentally prepared. To see him beaming at her like he was a proud older brother after the garbage she just spewed for the masses, it was too much. He was too nice. She didn’t deserve it. She was ashamed.

So she bolted.

She hurried in and out of her dressing room, opting to shower on the bus. She remembers physically feeling the wail of thousands of women as she was exiting the back door of the venue just as he was going on stage. She gritted her teeth against the tears -- tears of embarrassment, exhaustion and heart-wrenching jealousy. She shut herself up in the bus with Tammy and Patsy on her Amazon Echo, staying up too late writing songs she’ll never sing.

It set the tone for the tour. She didn’t mean for it to. She went in to this arrangement knowing keeping her distance was best – it always was, professionally speaking. She didn’t want to become his best friend or his mentee. But she also didn’t want him to think she’s a brat. She’s not a brat.

Ok, she’s definitely a brat, but she’s a hardworking woman who has scraped and fought for all she has. Even if it’s not what she wants.

She hasn’t actively sought out Shawn’s company but she knows she’s not welcome. She glides past his open dressing room door. The rest of the tour crew, plus a few members of her own team, are welcome any time. It’s a big ol’ party. But when she hustles past like she’s got somewhere to be, which she always does, there’s no call of, “hey, Emma! Come join us!”

Fine, it’s easier that way, she reasons. No distractions. She gets her business done – back-to-back radio interviews, weird, invasive Buzzfeed videos that, unfortunately, don’t include puppies like some of the ones she’s seen, and recording her album.

She doesn’t know who started this trend of the mobile recording studio but she hates him or her. Or them, if it’s One Direction like she suspects. Her team wants to capitalize on the success her single hasn’t even had yet by following it up with an album as closely as possible. This means she spends hours locked in a roving recording studio singing the liquid bubblegum-flavored tunes and hearing terms like “mass appeal” and “girl power” so many times they lose all meaning.

But they’re about to find out what kind of girl power she’s really got. It’s single release day. They’re in Oslo for a show and she’s up with the dawn for a live interview with BBC Radio 1 followed by a few more across the U.S. as “Fireheart” is released in a new time zone every hour. She’s finishing her final call with a radio station in Phoenix, she thinks, as she’s sprinting up the stage steps, late for soundcheck. They’ve been rehearsing the song so she can play it on the day of the release. The choreo is kicking her ass. What she really needs is to rest for a few minutes before the show but they do another thorough run-through of the set and she has a “creative call” with the mom-and-Margaret-chosen director of her video. It’s a misnomer – there’s nothing creative about it at all on her end.

She’s not sure she’s stopped talking for more than five minutes all day when Steven finally insists that she sit down with her face in the humidifier in silence. Again, the urge to kiss him rears hard in her shaky chest. She’s staring blankly at her phone with her nose bumping up against the plastic ridge on her personal humidifier, flipping through Instagram when she gets a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: hey it’s shawn. just heard the new song, you sound great. issa bop!

She snorts in shock and looks around her even though she’s in the green room alone in her underwear. She lets herself blush and, just for a minute, she fucking loves “Fireheart.”

Her fingers scan fast over the keys.

Thanks :)

It’s all she gives and she suspects it’s all he wants to get.

+

Shawn’s lying if he says he wasn’t waiting around for midnight in Oslo for “Fireheart” to drop. This is her first non-Disney release and he’s curious to see what she’ll do with it, what he can glean from her personal style.

The song is, at best, generic. It doesn’t even really sound like her, they edited it so heavily. It’s a fucking crime, really, because her voice is beautiful. In the few tracks on her soundtracks where they let her shine, she really shines. He wants to see more of that. But maybe this is what she wanted.

He figures the polite thing to do is text her. She’s still his tour mate even if they haven’t exchanged more than a passing glance or a flat smile in two weeks. It’s what he would want from her, he reasons. Actually, he’d want a whole lot more. And he’s still not wholly sure why.

Her response is quick like she was at her phone fielding a thousand similar messages, which he’s sure she was. It doesn’t invite more conversation which he’s at once grateful for and annoyed by. He drops his phone and walks away for a few minutes, stepping outside the bus.

He’s sitting on the curb in the empty parking lot where the buses are housed when a big white Escalade with tinted windows and the shiniest rims he’s ever seen pulls up. A frazzled assistant-type stumbles out of the passenger side and opens the door for the longest pair of legs he’s ever seen. His eyebrows lift.

The woman attached to the legs is Emma’s mother, there’s no question. The resemblance is uncanny. From the dainty pointed nose to the expensive highlights in her hair to the shape of her lips, it’s Emma in 25 years. Shawn swallows hard.

Emma’s mother steps out of the car like she’s had a lot of practice navigating with those skyscraper legs, something he’s still not good at. She’s staring down at her phone typing a thousand words a minute and muttering something to the assistant who’s so keyed up she looks like she needs a pee. Emma’s mom strides up to the bus with the same long, quick steps Shawn’s used to seeing Emma utilize. She walks in without knocking and that’s the last he sees of her.

There’s something about the way she carries herself that makes him understand Emma a little better now. His mother doesn’t walk like that. His mother doesn’t talk to people that way. His mother definitely doesn’t dress like a 30-year-old Paris Hilton cast-off. If that’s who raised Emma, maybe it’s no wonder.

A couple weeks later, Andrew snags Shawn after his gym session and before breakfast, which is a dangerous time to corner him so Shawn knows it’s important.

He sits at the small picnic table outside the venue in Lisbon and eyes Andrew warily, trying not to pout about the French toast he wants to go hunt down.

“So Margaret and I sat down this morning—”

Shawn’s eyes go wide. This cannot be good.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew pleads before continuing, “We sat down this morning because we’ve been getting calls from the label about… about why you and Emma never seem to interact.”

Shawn sighs and rakes a hand through his sweaty curls. He sits back, remembers there’s nothing to lean against on a picnic bench and slumps forward onto his elbows.

“Yeah,” Shawn prompts.

“So they want you and Emma to be friendly. Not too friendly, just big-brother, little-sister type stuff, just to look like you can stand to be in the same room. A few Snapchats and Insta Stories should do it. It’s a fine line, because they don’t want you to look like you’re dating. We can discuss the details later. Are you… I mean, can you handle this?”

Shawn growls under his breath. “Yeah, I can fucking handle it. I just—” He stops himself. Andrew raises his eyebrows.

“I don’t get why it matters. Why do we have to interact? We’re on tour, we’re not friends. I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

The last sentence sounded a little more vulnerable than Shawn wanted to be, but fuck it. He’s kind of upset. And Andrew won’t judge him.

“It matters for PR. It matters that the label’s artists don’t look like they hate each other. And, if it helps, I don’t think she cares enough about you to hate you.” He snorts the last few words like a joke but they sting Shawn where it counts. He’s gotten good enough at all this to keep it from showing on his face.

“Fine, ok. Whatever.”

Andrew goes to stand but Shawn stops him.

“Does she know about this yet? What did she say?”

Andrew purses his lips. “Emma, ever expressive, said ‘fine’ and walked away.”

Shawn thinks he hears a “to tune up her wicked witch broomstick” under Andrew’s breath as he strolls off to another task but he can’t be sure.

+

Abject horror is what Emma felt when the order came down from on high that she and Shawn are to interact on social media. Flat disinterest is what showed up on her face.

It was only back in her bedroom that she let herself fist her hands in her hair and squirm about it, so uncomfortable with the idea of spending any more time with him than she has to. At the moment, that’s pretty much limited to bumping into each other in hotel hallways when they’re staying overnight and passing his dressing room if he happens to look up at her while she walks by. The idea of actually staging cute, friendly Snapchats makes her stomach turn with nerves.

He texts her and invites her down to the lobby for coffee at their hotel in Manchester. She’s admittedly grateful that he makes the first move, but she’s still a little miserable at the idea of this weird assignment. But what label wants, label gets. (It’s becoming Margaret’s catchphrase)

He’s standing beside the counter on his phone with a hoodie up over his head to keep a low profile. Joke’s on him, though, because he’s outrageously tall and she can still see those boyish curls peeking out from under the hood. In another life, she could see herself walking up behind him and tucking her arms around his waist to stick her hands in his hoodie pocket.

In this life, she walks fast and loud in her heeled booties to make her presence known. He looks up when he hears her, eyes wide and a little panicked. Her heart clenches. She offers him the flattest smile she can manage.

“Hey,” he says, sliding his phone in the pocket of his tight jeans. She wants to go with it. She clears her throat.

“Hey. Did you order?”

He shakes his head. They walk up to the counter. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the chalkboard menu above their heads hopelessly, knowing her order like the back of her hand.

The cashier asks for their orders. Shawn looks to Emma. “Green tea,” she croaks.

Shawn orders a black coffee and hands the woman cash. Emma nods at him in the only thanks she can manage. She can feel her insides vibrating around him and she hasn’t even had any caffeine yet.

“So… we have an assignment,” Shawn tries to joke. His voice is humorless.

She lifts her eyebrows briefly and bobs her head. “Yeah.”

“Should… I mean, should we just take a selfie with our drinks?” he offers. She’s silent. It’s so painful.

“Yeah, ok,” she finally answers, chewing on her lower lip. He watches it disappear under her teeth briefly and reappear a little softer, a little pinker. He almost doesn’t notice their orders come up.

He thanks the barista with a smile and follows Emma to a table. He’s grateful there aren’t many people around to witness this awkward interaction. No one seems to have clocked them at all despite the fact that Emma came downstairs in full make-up and an outfit fit for a Vogue photoshoot. Not that he noticed.

They sit at a tiny round table. Emma crosses her outrageous legs and Shawn fiddles with the settings on his Instagram camera.

“Do you mind if I take it?”

He blinks and looks over at her. Her voice is quiet and a little shy – it’s not the monotone drawl he’s used to. He just nods and puts his phone down.

She swipes into her camera like a pro and holds up her drink next to him. Her hand finds the angle she likes and she makes the happiest face he’s seen on her for the Boomerang she films. He can’t help but smile, too, widening his eyes like he’s never been more excited about anything than drinking coffee with Emma Kingston.

Her expression falls when she drops her hand and moves away from him. She studies the Boomerang, tilts her head and nods. It’s acceptable. She posts it, tagging him with the caption, “caffeine time with the best @shawnmendes!”

She places her phone face down on the table and cups her tea in both hands. He watches the black sequins float, suspended in liquid on the back of her phone case. He looks back at her.

She looks tired even under all the make-up. Her fingers are twitchy against the cardboard cup. Is he making her nervous, he wonders? He slouches against his chair and sips his coffee.

“We’re going out tonight. Me and my band and a few others. Do you want to come?”

The words shock her as much as they shock him when they leave his mouth. They both stare at each other for too long a moment, amazed at what they heard. She sips her tea for something to occupy her mouth.

“Yeah, cool.”

That was not the answer she expected to give. She exhales slowly and stands. “See you later.”

She’s gone in several long strides and he’s alone in the café wondering what the fuck he just did.

+

The plan for the evening was communicated to her through Margaret, who heard it from Andrew, who got it from Geoff, who was told by Shawn. After the show at Manchester Arena, they’re taking cars first to Gorilla, then to Sound Control, then the Mint Lounge if they’re up for it.

Emma hopes they’re up for it. She hasn’t had a proper night out since before tour, since Ashley gave her her first E and held her hair when she threw it up in the back of an Uber on the 405.

She’s dressed not to kill, but to fucking assassinate. Mabel lets her get a little buckwild on club nights in exchange for not bitching too much when she has to wear designers she doesn’t like for Instagram ads. Tonight, the choice is very Manchester: a sort of shredded black sleeveless tank dress with dark stockings (with more tears) and thigh high black patent leather military boots. It’s so grunge, she thinks to herself, turning to admire her perky ass in the mirror, Courtney Love is shaking in her boots.

With the addition of round black 90s shades and a swipe of gloss, she steps off the bus.

Shawn’s used to conversation stopping whenever Emma walks into a space. She’s an unignorable presence. He wonders if it hurts her feelings most of the time but, on nights like this, when she’s making an entrance, he can see a flush creep up her chest and knows she likes it.

She looks… outrageous. He has to focus on clenching his jaw to keep it from dropping. Fuck.

But her face is cold under layers of highlighter and contour and he can see she’s not all in there, like usual. He’s becoming familiar with the ache in his chest that he gets when he tries to find her in her eyes and comes up empty and confused.

She produces a game-for-it smile and nods at the fleet of vehicles waiting to take them out as if giving them permission to escort her. Shawn slides into the car behind hers and watches as she sits next to Brian. He wonders if Brian can smell her perfume or the shampoo she uses. He blinks hard and stares out the window, grinning at the city as they infiltrate it.

Emma isn’t intimately familiar with the Manchester club scene the way she is with, say, Los Angeles or Ibiza, but one of Shawn’s guitar techs and one of her dancers grew up here so they know where to find what they’re looking for. She decides to trust them when they pull up outside a building that does not resemble any club she’s ever been in but it is called Gorilla and she’s trying to be cool so she says nothing, determined to remain open-minded.

Shawn never feels more like a celebrity when he’s storming a club with a team of his friends and tour mates and they’re getting let through the velvet ropes ahead of everyone in line with nods and handshakes. He doesn’t embrace this privilege that often because it still feels a little weird but on tour, he likes getting to treat his friends. Everyone works so hard; doing the rockstar thing boosts morale.

As he’s looking around at the crowd gathered at the bar, morale is clearly boosted. Everyone’s got a drink in their hand, everyone’s laughing and screaming and dancing and it’s actually a little early, he thinks, for things to have gotten so wild but it’s their first night out of the tour and Jess and Lexi are both in their hometown and invited some friends. He’s scanning everyone’s faces and planning out how he can manage to fit them all in one Insta story when he finds one missing.

Through the slight fog of several beers and post-show exhaustion, he glances around searching for Emma’s signature butter-blonde waves. He feels a hint of panic rise in his chest when it takes him longer than he wants it to. He does finally spot her, though, leaning against a wall with one leg bent under her and her head tilted as she listens to some short red-headed guy chatting her up. Her lips are curled like she’s flirting which he hasn’t seen her do with anyone yet, including the few brave souls from the crew who have tried and failed to crack through her walls. Suddenly, she erupts with laughter and he flinches, shocked at the sight. She actually looks really interested and engaged. Shawn tries not to visibly seethe. He waves down another beer from the bartender to help with that.

Shawn actively tries not to look for her again for the next half hour but it’s hard because something in the back of his head wants to protect her in case the guy’s a creep but he’s distracted enough by the company and the booze. It’s as they’re gathering up to hit the next club that he looks for her to make sure she’s included. She’s wrapped under that guy’s arm now and apparently he’s coming with them and Shawn feels his jaw tense up a little but he knows he can’t let anyone see it especially since it doesn’t make any fucking sense for him to be feeling this way.

Once again, the caravan of cars takes them to Sound Control – a gargantuan three-floor venue with a club in the basement. But this time, Shawn’s in the very back of the Escalade with Emma and her arm candy and he’s never felt so uncomfortable in his life. The redheaded Weasley-looking bloke is nice enough, honestly, introducing himself to everyone and trading quips in thick Mancunian accents with Jess and Lexi. But he’s squashed in between Emma and Shawn in a seat not designed for Shawn’s 6’2” frame and despite the fact that Shawn is definitely drunk, he’s still not drunk enough for this.

Emma’s choice of entertainment for the evening does not resemble Shawn in the slightest – it’s almost a wonder that they could be considered the same species. This isn’t entirely an accident, Emma admits to herself through a hazy brain fog of gin and the joint she and Roger (that’s the redhead’s name, of course it is) shared in the bathroom after a snog.

She has to remind herself somehow that Shawn Mendes isn’t the only good-looking guy on this god-forsaken island. If she can do that while listening to a cute, if rough and tumble, English accent, she’ll jump at the chance. The look on Shawn’s face when Roger teases the hem of her skirt as they’re walking through the doors to the second stop of the night is a delicious bonus.

Shawn loses Emma and Roger almost the second they get inside. The cocktail of emotions (way less fun than the cocktail he wants right now) he’s experiencing is dampening his party-ready exterior and becoming noticeable. Geoff smacks at his arm as Shawn nurses his… eighth beer? He really can’t be sure now.

“You good, man?” Geoff yells over the din. Shawn just nods and looks away. Geoff decides not to push it. Not the environment for a heart-to-heart, anyway.

Shawn doesn’t dance much sober but drunk Shawn? He gets down. He’s jumping around, crashing into people who don’t seem to mind, giddy from hops and thumping house music. He feels a little invincible. Something triggers the memory of the crowd tonight, his crowd. They were spectacular – the U.K. gigs always are. He thinks about the way they screamed on command for him, how they sang his songs louder than he could’ve ever dreamed they would.

He thinks about the opener, too, though. He doesn’t let her see him watch her set because his pride is still smarting from when she skipped his opening night. He doesn’t think she’s deigned to stay for any show since either. But he can’t help it. He’s got it clocked now so he can miss the first few songs and sneak up behind a rafter somewhere to watch her belt “How I’ve Been” barefoot and beautiful. He’s fucking mesmerized and he hates himself a little for it.

He finds himself looking for her again now in the low-ceilinged smoky club. The only lights in the space are an eerie red, mixing with fog and weed and cigs and hot, sticky breath. He swallows, feeling his head spin as he turns too fast. He grabs a support pillar nearby and clings to it as he continues his search.

He wishes he didn’t when he finds her, though. Every inch of the back of her body is pressed against the front of… well, not Roger’s. This new guy is taller. He’s a lot taller. He’s more built in the upper body from what Shawn can see. He’s got dark curly hair and wandering hands. If Shawn were just a little drunker, he’d wonder if somehow it’s him, if he’s having an out of body experience.

They’re grinding hard, bodies pounding rhythmically against each other, against their tightly-enclosed neighbors. This guy’s hands are everywhere – her hips, her thighs, reaching up her skirt a little, grabbing at her breasts through her thin dress. Shawn’s stomach roils. He’s sure he’s gonna throw up. He grabs the column a little harder.

Somehow, impossibly, through the throngs of people, their eyes lock. Her cloud-like lips are parted with the effort of her panting breaths. Her hands are both tangled in this bastard’s hair while he works on a mark on her neck.

Emma’s staring at Shawn and Shawn’s staring at Emma, both waiting for each other to crack and react. He’s impressively stoic, given his state of intoxication. He only flinches when the Shawn look-a-like’s hand is edging up the hem of her dress again.

She smiles like she’s won, which she kind of has. Her grin is nothing like he’s seen on her before, nor on any woman. It’s almost inhuman somehow. Shawn whimpers, watching her turn her head to coax the lips off her neck and back to hers. The second he sees her tongue peek out to explore his mouth, Shawn shuts down.

He turns away and walks (stumble-runs) to the bar, leaning against it and almost begging the bartender for water. He leans against a wall in silence until his friends notice his rather conspicuous absence and dig him out of his hole.

They round up again – no Ruby Lounge tonight. They’re spent. It’s past 3am, anyway. Shawn instinctively starts counting heads again.

“Where’s Emma?” he chokes. He knows the answer. He has to hear it out loud anyway.

Lexi simpers almost proudly. “Not coming. Left with some French guy half an hour ago. Took him back to the hotel.”

Shawn blinks the green haze in his eyes before he can nod. “Cool. Let’s hit the road.”

+

She was a woman possessed, Emma decides when she wakes up the next morning with a warm body next to her. He doesn’t look nearly as much like Shawn in the cold light of dawn. She pokes him in the back and nods when he rolls over and grimaces at her.

He’s gone in five minutes. She’s good at that, getting rid of guys in the morning. If nothing else, her cold stare helps her achieve that. But it scares away everyone else by design, too. You can’t be two people, she reminds herself over a mug of hotel room green tea. She doesn’t have the energy to brave the lobby for Caffe Nero. Anyone could be down there. Plus, the longer she can convince her team she’s asleep, the longer she can stay here in this place between sleep and Emma Kingston, a place without Pilaticardio or “Fireheart” or an Anastasia brow palette.

Emma’s tired. Physically, bone tired, sure, but that’s not new. She’s tired of walking up with someone and still feeling alone. She’s tired of walking past a room of people with inside jokes knowing she hasn’t made herself welcome. She’s so fucking tired.

She’s been thinking lately about implementing a new… strategy. Maybe she doesn’t have to be cold and detached all the time. Maybe she can be cold, detached and funny. Like, she can jump into conversations with a sharp quip and make everyone laugh in surprise. Then at least they’d like her enough to nod at her and say hi sometimes when she walks past the door. She doesn’t need an invite inside. She doesn’t want one. She just needs… something.

Emma stands. Her joints creak louder than usual. She wonders why for a moment then remembers the dancing, and the shoes. She shoots a harsh glance at her discarded boots. The dancing makes her think of the touching and the touching makes her think of Shawn.

She wasn’t just drunk on Gordon’s, she was drunk on power, too. When Shawn looks at her the way he does when he either thinks she doesn’t see him (like when he’d hiding and watching the end of her set) or when he’s drunk and can’t help it, it’s the closest feeling she gets to independence. Pilaticardio doesn’t come close.

Now, this morning, the thrill is gone. Sobriety has set in and has brought with it the consequences of her rather ridiculous decisions. She remembers the way she smiled at him. She remembers the look of horror on his face. She already felt sick. Now she feels sicker.

On her way to the shower, she catches a glimpse of Emma Kingston looking like she got hit by a truck. The reality, of course, is not as exciting – too much gin, weed and bad sex.

Must be Wednesday.

Taglist: @the-claire-bitch-project @smallerinfinities @crapri @stillinskislydia@carlaimberlain @heavenly—holland @abigfatmess @rosecolouredtimes

[hookedonapirate]

To Play the Game (and win your heart)

Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.

Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.

The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.

Artwork by: @distant-rose​​

Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.

Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .

Author’s Notes: Thank you @captainswanbigbang​​​ and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.

A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​ for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is.

Thank you @distant-rose​​ for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld​​​ for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook​​​ for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.

There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Also available on: AO3 FFnet

Artwork by @distant-rose

Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art

Chapter 5: Let the Games Begin

~Rule #5: Play the crowd. When surrounded by strangers, take the opportunity to make eyes at a few of them to let your target know you can have any man you desire. Some may be turned off by the notion that they have competition, but a true competitor will either accept the challenge or find your obvious self-confidence attractive.~

“Emma! I’m so glad you could make it!” Mary Margaret greets exuberantly when Emma arrives at the golf course. It’s a perfect day to be on the green—warm and sunny without a cloud in sight.

Emma gives the woman a kind smile. “Thank you for inviting me as a volunteer. I’m honored to be a part of this fantastic event.”

“And we are happy to have you!” Mary Margaret is carrying a clipboard in one hand and grabbing Emma’s with the other as they start walking. “I will introduce you to the group you will be working with, but first thing’s first—are you single?”

Emma lifts a brow, eyeing her suspiciously. “Am I that transparent?”

The brunette laughs and shakes her head. “No, sorry, I was wondering because after the tournament, we’ll be holding a Date Auction where bachelorettes will be bid on for a date here at the country club. And I was wondering if you wanted to sign up? It’s basically a free dinner with some company.”

“Oh, I don't’ know…”

Mary Margaret stops and turns around, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Oh please, Emma. One woman dropped out at the last minute, so we need a replacement. As you know, it’s for a good cause. All of the proceeds go towards Hook’s foundation.”

Emma grimaces, not at all interested in being a doll one can bid on, nor having dinner with a rich snob who will undress her with his eyes the entire evening. However, when the bidder wins, Hook might get jealous when he sees her on a date with someone else, and the possibility of this intrigues Emma. Pondering whether she should or not, she thinks about what Milah would do and say about it, and makes her decision. “Okay, since it’s for a good cause, I'll do it. But I don’t have anything to wear, and I definitely can’t go on stage in this outfit.” Emma looks down at her sneakers, khaki shorts and tight blue tank top before looking up at Mary Margaret again.

The brunette grins and is practically jumping up and down. “Oh thank you, Emma! And don‘t worry about the outfit, just tell me your dress and shoe size and I‘ll do the rest.”

After writing down all the necessary information, Mary Margaret gives Emma a tour of the course, explaining the event in more detail. Each player has a pledge who has promised to sponsor a child of their choosing—a child they wish to see his or her dreams come true. The sponsors have also donated items to the raffle and would be bidding in the dating auction.

Hook’s agent goes on to explain the foundation and how it was born from a small group home for children who were living with developmental and physical disabilities and were isolated from society with no organized sports or socialized activities available to them. “Killian came to the kids offering these opportunities to them, along with a little hope and a lot of love. He wants nothing more than to help make these kids’ dreams come true.” Mary Margaret laughs a little, shaking her head at a thought. “Last Halloween, Ryan—one of the kids you’ll be working with—who was born with spinal muscular atrophy, wanted to be Captain Hook for Halloween because he always refers to Killian as the captain of the ship; he looks up to him and always says ‘I want to be just like Captain Hook’. So Killian had his wheelchair turned into a pirate ship.”

“Really?” Emma asks, thinking about that for a moment and starts putting the pieces together. “So, is this kid the reason why Killian named his yacht The Jolly Roger ?”

“Oh, yes. Ryan had suggested it when Killian was trying to think of a name for the new yacht. He wanted Killian to have his own Jolly Roger. How do you know about Killian’s boat anyway?” Mary Margaret asks suspiciously.

Crap.

“Umm... I don’t know, honestly, I think I heard it from someone at a bar or something. People talk a lot around here,” Emma laughs, trying to cover up the anxiety twisting in her stomach.

“They sure do,” the brunette agrees, and Emma sighs in relief as they approach a group of children. “Emma, this is the group you’ll be working with. Ryan over here, Chelsea, Hayley and Charly over there.”

“Charles,” the young boy corrects Mary Margaret—however he doesn’t look at her, and instead stares at Emma and smiles shyly, waving his fingers.

“There is also Anthony. He is Chelsea’s interpreter; he not only translates sign language, he also teaches her social and behavioral cues as well as management strategies for daily life, so eventually she won’t need any help.”

Emma greets the kids and shakes Anthony’s hand before she turns to Mary Margaret again, waiting for further instructions.

When Emma had accepted her offer, she didn't think about what this job would look like. Her primary goal at the time was to appear on Hook’s radar, begin her mission of collecting as much information as possible and to find ways to get close to him.

“You and your group can practice over there, and in an hour, the tournament will begin.” With that said, Mary Margaret hurries to a blonde man with a camera in his hands. Emma watches them kiss briefly before Mary Margaret slips back into manager mode and scurries off again.

Curious about who he is, Emma decides to store the question in the back of her mind for later and turns to her group.

“So, who wants to play some golf?”

$*$*$

“What do you think of her?” Killian’s eyes land on Emma, who is standing next to Ryan as he looks at the beautiful woman like he is looking directly at an angel. The young lad is confined to a wheelchair because of spinal muscular atrophy after being diagnosed at only ten months old; however, Killian has never seen a more self-confident kid before. Ryan smiles more than anyone Killian knows, he is eager to learn new things and is always the first who greets everyone and includes new people in every activity he is doing.

“I think she’s doing great. She’s a natural,” Mary Margaret answers as Killian studies the woman who haunts his dreams more and more every day.

“Aye,” Killian agrees, raising a brow. He’s been mesmerized by her since the moment he’d seen her, and is even more so as he sees how good she is with the kids.

When he hears clapping and cheering from the direction he was staring at just moments before, he looks up again and sees Emma beaming at Ryan.

“She is really great with the kids, isn’t she?” Mary Margaret suddenly asks. When her eyes meet his it’s she who raises a brow this time. “What is it, Killian?”

He shakes his head, averting his gaze to the scenery in front of him and watches Emma placing the ball in front of Ryan’s wheelchair, encouraging him to hit the ball again. When he does, another wave of cheers and applauds fill the air, and Killian smiles approvingly.

Emma walks to Hayley, a blind girl, and her friend Chelsea who is deaf. The two of them have the most beautiful friendship in Killian’s eyes. He had never imagined these two could be friends when he’d met them because a girl with no sight and a girl who can not hear is a combination which makes everyone scratch their head. But it works. Chelsea has someone with her who translates everything into sign language for her, however, Killian knows she is lip reading and is really good at it despite her young age. He can see she is concentrating on Hayley’s lips and not looking at her interpreter at all. This fact makes him smile.

He admires these young people who are able to cope with their disabilities so easily. Sometimes he forgets they are disabled at all; they are all so eager and enthusiastic, always giving their best and having fun together. But sometimes the dynamic between them doesn’t work without help. Chelsea’s and Hayley’s friendship only works when there is a third party who translates what Chelsea is saying. Because she isn’t able to speak well enough so that people can understand her, and Hayley is incapable of seeing her, a third party is essential. But neither of the girls has a problem with that. Killian often watches them interact as if they were two normal teenagers, talking about boys, school and other activities.

“Yay! Well done!” Emma’s chanting brings him back to reality once again.

His smile widens when he sees her standing behind Charles, a ten year old kid with autism who has a golf club in his hands. Killian watches as another ball is placed in front of Charles, and Emma wraps her arms around his little frame to help him hit the ball, which he does. Involuntarily, Killian thinks about when he was doing the same with her, and a shudder runs down his spine.

“Earth to Killian.” Mary Margaret’s amused voice makes him stop watching Emma and the kids, and instead he tries to concentrate on his manager. He slowly turns his head, his eyes glued to them as long as possible until he finally looks at Mary Margaret, seeing the amusement dancing in her eyes, matching the tone in her voice. “If you stare at her any harder you might drill a hole in her head.”

“I am not staring at her, I'm just seeing how she interacts with the children,” Killian starts to defend himself, but gives up quickly and sighs. “Alright alright, there is something about that woman which fascinates me. Maybe it’s her confident behavior, or maybe it’s how good she is with the kids. I don’t know.”

Now it’s Mary Margaret who is staring at Killian as she tilts her head—a dead giveaway that she’s thinking about possible answers and how to help him reach his goal (whatever it is this time).

Killian’s eyes trail back to Emma, who is helping Chelsea hit the ball. He can’t help himself, but this whole scene warms his heart. It seems he had entirely misunderstood Emma and had awoken this morning with a false impression of her, but who can blame him after how she has treated him thus far? He didn't take her as the kindest or most caring person at first. He’d thought maybe she was too stuck up to go on a date with him, or maybe if she did give in and let him take her out, he’d only end up with his heart broken. And he’d never expected her to work so well with the kids. Perhaps she actually is kind, she’s just not one to show who she truly is right off the bat.

“Well, why don’t you join the group and help her out a bit, and you two can—um—talk? The kids would love to see you.”

“Right. I could do that, but I think I need to check on something else beforehand,” he fibs, because he knows exactly what his agent’s intentions are, as innocent as she may seem.

“Like what?” Mary Margaret asks skittishly, and at the same time, Killian waves his hand in the air, greeting his friend Robin who shows up at the perfect moment.

“Locksley!”

$*$*$

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes, but inwardly she is already forming a plan to let Killian and Emma have a quiet moment for themselves. She can see Killian is bewitched by her, judging by the way he stares at her—the way he talks about her; she sees the fire in his eyes. It’s the same interest—no, the same passion —he normally shows during a competition.

Ignoring the men, Mary Margaret thinks about walking over to Emma and the kids, asking her if everything is okay, when suddenly an idea crosses her mind. She observes Emma looking in Killian’s direction, sees her smile at him and decides to take matters into her own hands.

“Hey, Robin, have you met Emma already?” Mary Margaret asks him with a mischievous grin, which grows bigger the moment she sees Killian’s shocked expression. “I would really like to introduce her to you. She is the one who is replacing Ariel tonight at the dinner auction.”

“She is?” Killian asks, perplexed and a tad too quickly to mask his eagerness to find the answer to his question. He swallows thickly, thinking about the implications.

Robin glances at him, surprised, while Mary Margaret suppresses a smile. She starts walking towards Emma and her group of kids, followed by the men.

Before she reaches them, David joins them, the camera now on his shoulder recording the walk to Emma and her group.

“Emma, how’s it going?” Mary Margaret asks when they approach.

“Everything's fine, I promise,” Emma assures with a small laugh.

“I had no doubts,” the brunette beams at her. “I was just wondering if you already knew Robin Locksley? He is married to the owner of the country club and is also one of the best golfers around.”

Emma shakes his hand, smiling at him. “Henry told me about you. You are his stepfather, aren’t you?”

Robin nods, grinning back at her. “That's right.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Locksley.”

“It’s Robin, lass, and it’s nice meeting you too. Mary Margaret was just telling us you will participate in the dinner auction later,” Robin remarks, offering a smirk. “Maybe I will try my luck and bid on a date with you.”

“Oi, mate! You are happily married,” Killian reminds him, a hint of jealousy in his tone. “Don’t let Regina hear that.”

“Oh come on, Hook, you only say that because you want to have her for yourself.”

Mary Margaret grins in success; she can’t tell who is blushing more—Emma who is trying to focus on the kids again, or Killian who is bashfully scratching behind his red tipped ear.

“We will have to wait and see who places the highest bid,” Mary Margaret chips in to avoid any awkward moments, and then looks at her husband, who is still recording the children. “Sweetie, can you lower the camera for two seconds? I want you to meet the volunteer I told you about.”

“This is her?” David does as he's asked and stops recording, lowering the camera to shake the other blonde’s hand.

“Emma, this is my husband, David. He’s the camera operator if you couldn’t already tell,” Mary Margaret introduces proudly.

“Ah, I figured you didn't normally go around kissing the camera crew,” Emma says with a smile and turns her eyes to David. “It's nice to meet the other half of the kind woman who invited me to volunteer at this wonderful event.”

“You too, Emma. And she is definitely the better half,” David remarks, winking at his wife.

“I tend to disagree,” Mary Margaret blushes at him; she could easily get lost in her husband's eyes, so she immediately shifts her focus to Killian, maintaining her professionalism. “Hook, didn’t you want to talk to the kids? I think this would be a great moment for David to record, right, honey?”

The blonde man smiles at her. “It’s good to collect some impressions of the preparation for the tournament, and having the owner of the foundation interacting with the children is a great idea. Also, having my lovely wife here who is organizing the whole event is an even better bonus.” He briefly presses his lips to hers before lifting the camera to his shoulder again.

“David!” Mary Margaret hisses, her cheeks flushed, but it’s evident on her face she is enjoying the little affection from her man. It’s not difficult to miss the uneasiness on Killian’s face, though, at the possible implications that he is hosting this event for publicity reasons. But, everyone here knows better. Mary Margaret can see how everyone admires him for his good heart—even Emma who doesn't know him very well.

She’s just glad she’d decided to not set up Killian on a date after he’d mentioned her over the phone the other day, hoping Emma would come to the event. However, she has to admit she feels guilty about signing Emma up for the auction in hopes that Killian would become jealous and take matters into his own hands, but she has a feeling these two will find a way to each other's hearts, even if it takes a little persuasion.

$*$*$

David films the interaction between Emma, Hook and the group for a while before Mary Margaret is off to go help with a problem somewhere else, taking David with her. Emma isn’t so sure there is an actual problem, but she would never call out her newfound friend, who also might be handy for her mission and for information about Hook. He and Robin have to leave a short time later, much to the dismay of the kids and Emma, although she would never admit that.

Emma tries to concentrate on her task, but her thoughts are already on the auction. She has no idea what to do or how to behave exactly. She isn’t even sure why she’d accepted Mary Margaret’s request. Was it to help her out? Was it to find a way of making Hook jealous? Robin’s comment makes her rethink the whole idea. She knows she already has a chance to have a date with Hook soon—all she has to do is say the word, but she’s starting to think whether signing up for the auction was a good idea or not. She hopes Hook will become jealous when he sees her with another man, but what if he doesn’t accept the challenge? What if he finds some other woman at dinner who demands his attention? And what will Milah really think about the whole situation? Emma wishes she could call her sister now for some advice.

She doesn’t want to make Milah angry with her decisions, but she also knows she has to make her own if she wants to be the lead in this game. Milah always knows what to do and how to make things happen, so why can’t Emma do it this time? Technically she’s already made her decision and now she has to live with the consequences. So why does this decision make her feel so nervous?

People are starting to arrive, so Emma suggests heading over to the clubhouse to eat something before the tournament starts. The kids start to hurry towards the clubhouse as Emma pushes Ryan’s wheelchair. He thanks her for the lovely day they’ve had so far, and Emma feels touched by his words; this is one thing she will never regret. Being with the kids, helping them and getting to know them better warms her heart. She cannot wait to watch the tournament, root for her group and enjoy the afternoon with them. She also hopes to gather some information about Hook while being here today, surrounded by people who know him better than she does.

While chewing on her grilled cheese sandwich, she tries to analyse her progress in seducing Hook. When she sees him chatting with a studious looking brunette, Emma pauses for a moment, suddenly remembering him asking her to be his date outside of Marco’s. Her mouth is still full when realization hits her hard. He won’t be alone at dinner. Emma is convinced Mary Margaret didn't allow him to show up alone, and has set this woman up as his date.

Emma’s stomach is in knots now, her appetite completely gone. She doesn’t want anyone else to be Killian’s date; she wants to be his date. The moment the thought crosses her mind, all of the blood drains from her face, and she feels ill. What’s happening here? Is she really falling for her target? No, she only feels this way because she is afraid someone else will snatch him up and ruin the con. She shouldn't be worried though. She enjoys a little competition. She's had lots of practice stealing men from Milah—the woman they saw as their wife—so Emma's certainly not worried about some rich, snobby twat.

But just to be safe, Emma finishes her sandwich and passes the two, hoping Killian will see her. She keeps her eyes forward, but when he doesn't say anything, she looks in his direction. Killian hasn't even noticed her presence, he’s still talking to the brunette and smiling. Emma suddenly feels like she can't breathe, thinking she has lost him. But she chooses not to give up, so she boldly makes her way over to her future husband. His gaze finally peels away from the woman, and his lips twitch into a small smirk as she approaches.

“Killian, I just wanted to wish you good luck on the event; I know it will be a complete success,” Emma says sweetly as she curls both hands around his arm, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. Even with a quick, subtle gesture, she can hear his breath hitch at the contact.

“Thank you, love. I do hope so. And I'm glad you’re here.” He nods towards the woman in front of him, so Emma turns to face the brunette, looping her arm through his. “Emma, this is Regina Mills. She is the owner of the country club. Regina, this is Emma Swan. She is one of our volunteers for the day.”

Emma is relieved as she shakes the woman's hand with her free one. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Regina says, eyeing her suspiciously. “I haven't seen you around here. Are you new in town?”

“Yeah, I’m from Boston.”

Regina’s already high brows curve upward, expressing her curiosity. “Well, you’re a long way from home, then. What brings you here?”

“I just needed a fresh start,” Emma assures a bit nervously. She’s no longer worried about her being with Killian because she knows Regina is married to Robin, but this woman seems very intense, and Emma has an inkling she does not want to be on her bad side.

Regina’s eyes widen in realization. “Right, you’re the new member my son had mentioned.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Emma says with a polite smile.

“Alright, I think that’s enough interrogation, Regina,” Killian says a bit sternly. “We want her here, not to scare her off.”

Regina’s lips finally break out into a friendly smile. “My apologies, Miss Swan. Didn’t mean to pry. I’ll leave you to it. Again it was nice meeting you.” With those words said, she walks away leaving Emma with Killian as she keeps an eye on the children sitting at the table across the room.

“I’m sorry about her, love. She does that with all the newcomers.”

Emma swallows thickly, hoping this woman isn't someone she has to worry about ruining her plans, but she chooses to shrug it off. “It’s fine. I have nothing to hide,” she says, and Killian looks at her with a small smile.

“Oh, I think you do.”

Emma's eyes widen at that. Does he know what she's planning? Shit! She's completely screwed! “You do?”

Killian nods with certainty, and Emma swallows thickly, bracing herself for the worst. “Aye, I think you prefer to be a bit reserved,” he concurs, wagging a flirty brow, “which is good because I do enjoy a little mystery.”

With a breath of relief, Emma is smiling uncontrollably and rolling her eyes. “That’s good because I’m not one to give away all of my secrets at once. Not that I care about what you enjoy.”

Unconvinced, Killian bites his bottom lip, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m not so sure about that. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous when you came over here claiming me as yours.”

Emma blushes and tears her eyes away, watching the kids. “I was not jealous.”

“Oh really? Then why can't you look me in the eye when you say it?” he teases.

Emma laughs and shakes her head, returning her gaze to him. “Not saying I was, but if I were, would that scare you away?”

Killian shrugs and looks like he has to mull over the possible answer for a moment before leaning in and whispering in her ear, “I’m not running, now am I?”

The sound of his deep, silky accent vibrates in her ear, shooting down her spine. She tilts her head slightly, just enough so her cheek brushes against the sharp stubble on his face and she whispers back, “Good, because maybe I was a little jealous. You told me Mary Margaret was going to pressure you into procuring a date, so I thought Regina was her.”

“Well surprisingly, my agent let me off the hook this time,” Killian clarifies. “So, no date to speak of.”

Emma sighs in relief, never tearing her eyes from his. In all honesty, she enjoys being on his arm like this, enjoys the heat between them, but almost as soon as it’s there, they have to seperate.

“Killian, the ceremony is about to begin,” Mary Margaret informs him when she approaches with a soft smirk, seeing how close they are.

“I’m right behind you,” he assures his agent before reverting his soft, blue eyes to Emma, “but make no mistake… this is not me running away.” He pulls his arm away and lifts her hand to confirm his statement with a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles, making Emma shudder, the entirety of her skin igniting with goosebumps. Killian steps back, his cheeks painted with blush as he slowly releases her hand and gets one last glimpse of her before turning and walking away.

Emma watches him, her mouth hung open, surprised she’s not a puddle of liquid on the floor right now.

The opening ceremony begins and Killian gives the audience a fantastic speech before the tournament. Emma easily sees he’d started the foundation out of the kindness of his heart and not for publicity. She can see it in his eyes when he speaks about these young people and how they have changed his life. Once again her conscience is gripped with guilt. How can she even think of ripping a man’s heart to pieces when his heart is so full of love and warmth and passion? But perhaps he is strong willed. Emma has a feeling this man can overcome anything. He’s an athlete and he wouldn’t be one of the best golfers in the world if he didn’t know how to handle his shit.

Emma guides the children to their position for the tee off when it's time for the tournament to begin. She's a bit nervous with the crowds and cameras, especially when she sees a spectator who keeps staring at her, uninterested in the children or how well they're playing, only her. He’s tall and lanky and dressed obnoxiously with a flat cap, a bright yellow polo shirt, an ugly sweater vest and plaid pants. Every time Emma moves to the next hole with the children, he is following and observing her. She starts to feel uneasy under his gaze, so instead, she keeps her focus on the children.

She listens to Hayley talking, when it’s not her turn, about Killian and how she thinks he may look depending on his voice and scent, his behavior around them and everything she’s heard about him so far. She smiles when Chelsea joins her, using signing and her interpreter to describe how he looks. She mentions he has pretty lips and is very handsome, and they both snicker to themselves. Emma really tries to concentrate on Charles, who’s trying to get the ball in the hole, but now she is too distracted by the words of the girls and their effect on her.

Before Emma had arrived at the tournament, she didn’t really expect to enjoy herself. Or at least she hadn’t expected to enjoy herself with the kids. But she has to admit, interacting with them and helping them has turned out to be very rewarding. In fact, by the end of the tournament, Emma is sad to say goodbye.

“Bye, Emma. Will we see you again?” Charles asks hopefully, and Emma smiles and nods her head.

“I hope so.” She watches as her group files into the bus, Ryan’s wheelchair being lifted into the back, and she waves at the other kids as they look out the windows and wave back at her.

“The children really like you, don’t they?” Mary Margaret’s voice is heard from behind, and Emma turns around holding a small smile.

“You think so? I know they have really grown on me,” Emma admits honestly, and it feels good to tell such a wonderful truth. “And they all did a fantastic job today.”

“Perhaps you would be a good fit as a volunteer at the activity center?”

“It’s certainly something to think about,” Emma replies, and she doesn’t think it’s such a bad idea. She really did enjoy working with the children, and there’s something pulling at her gut telling her she should back out of this whole thing, but she doesn’t want to. She wants to help these children and spend time with them, and she wants to get close to Killian and be a part of his life.

As they start walking towards the clubhouse, Emma sees the same man from earlier who is now chatting with another sponsor and is still watching her. She had earlier learned his name is Oscar and he was Chelsea's pledge; he had donated money to watch her play, which sickened Emma a bit, because the man is oozing with creepy vibrations.

“What's the deal with him?” Emma asks Mary Margaret as she makes a subtle gesture towards him.

“Oscar? Oh, don't pay attention to him. He’s a former PGA Player of the Year champion and jealous of Killian because he’s broken numerous golf records and has had more wins and more success. Oscar only showed up to this event to try and prove to Killian he is the better man, but no one actually buys his facade. He's only here hoping Killian will fail somehow, but he's severely delusional,” Mary Margaret shakes her head. “We only allowed him to attend because he promised to donate a considerable amount of money to the organization.”

“Ah, I see.” Emma studies him carefully as he walks away.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of a shower and a change of clothes.”

“Me too,” Emma agrees. She is sweating from the heat, her clothes clinging to her skin, and she feels gross and certainly not prepared to stand on stage and attend a fancy dinner with rich folks.

When the two go inside, she is greeted by Henry in the lobby, and the big square gift box he’s holding, which is wrapped in a bright blue bow.

Arching a brow, Emma gapes at it suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“Not sure. I guess you’ll have to see for yourself,” Henry replies with a shrug. “But I’ll give you a hint—it’s from someone who was informed you were in need of an outfit for the evening.”

Eyeing the small envelope taped to the box, she very skittishly looks up and glances between Henry and Mary Margaret whose smiles are both dripping with mischief. Removing the card from the envelope, she reads the note.

Swan,

You helped me with my attire for the evening, now I am helping you with yours. Hope you like the dress. See you tonight.

—Killian Jones

Emma blushes as she lifts her gaze, and sees the two still staring at her.

“See? I told you not to worry,” Mary Margaret says and comes over, linking her arm with Emma’s. “Now that we have that taken care of, let me show you to the locker rooms.”

Tagging: @mayquita @freakassbuthunter @libbcoxnet-blog @goldengirlschildhood @courtorderedcake @florenzu @marcella2727  @veryverynotgood @i-would-cross-realms-4-her @hooklineandswan @wonderfullycarriedaway @0swald-c0bblep0t @cs-forlife @andiirivera @snotelek @capswantrue @nikkiemms @capswantrue @swansong12 @lg-campbell @lassluna @followbatb @harshini01 @betchesgetshitdone @coliferoncer @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke @kinkyhiddlesgirl @teamhook​

[cynicallystiles]

Beach Sunrises: Why

Author: @cynicallystiles

Warning: Cursing, drama, fluff, and a whole lotta angst. I tried to tag all the mature themes in this chapter as not to spoil the whole thing. So, read at your own discretion!

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Reader

Summary: While on tour one day, Shawn sees a woman watching the sunrise by herself. Thinking that he’ll never see her again, he tries to forget as he goes on with the rest of his day. But, serendipity seems to have other ideas…

Notes: Yo, sorry this is late!!! But, it’s hella long. I apologize deeply if this sucks. I had to end it in a weird spot because if not it would we a billion pages long. PLEASE REBLOG OR COMMENT if you like it! I always welcome messages and asks about my work! Enjoy!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 6 Part 8

Words: 10,485…YIKES

First P.O.V.

I wake up to a soft alarm coming from the nightstand. As I force my eyes open, my groggy brain reminds me that I'm in Shawn's bed instead of mine. I look over my shoulder and see his muscular back moving in rhythm to his breathing. We must've separated during the night.

Nonetheless, last night was the best I've slept in a long time. Usually, I have trouble and can't even think about going to sleep until the sun rises. I reach over and shut off the alarm coming from Shawn's phone. I smile to myself as I turn over and scoot up behind him.

"Shawn..." I whisper softly as to wake him up gently on his big day. The light comes through the window, looking like it's mid-morning.

When he doesn't stir, I run my fingers through his disheveled curls and slightly raise my voice. "Shawn. Up and at 'em! It's Grammy day!" I giggle as his shoulder falls back toward me and his eyes are looking at me sleepily.

"Five more minutes, mom," he teases with a wry smirk.

My mouth falls open with a scoff into an annoyed smile. "Oh, you're gonna regret that," I declare as I quickly press my fingers rapidly into the sensitive skin around his ribs.

He immediately wakes up further as he falls into a fit of laughter forced by me tickling him. I sit up further to get a better angle at both of his sides to continue torturing him and he tries desperately to get me to stop.

"I'm sorry! Ah! I didn't-I didn't mean it-" his sentence is broken up by his beautiful giggles and I pause for a moment to admire it.

He takes that opening to capture my wrists in his large hands before rolling me over onto my back and pinning me down. "Aha! Got you," he says from above me with a confident grin.

"Sure you did," I say sarcastically as my teeth find my bottom lip. I notice as his eyes keep moving from my amused stare to my sarcastic grin. He breathes heavily, still coming down from all the laughter and it's hard for my body to stay cool.

I clear my throat as I shift to get up, and he lets me. "So...big day today! Are you nervous?" I tease as I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

"Am I nervous? Please! I've done this a thousand times...the question is whether you're nervous for your red carpet debut," he calls from the other room.

His voice sounds off and I return from the bathroom to look into his eyes intently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah..." he nods, his eyes refusing to find mine.

I instantly cross the room and my hands cup his jaw. "Hey, look at me," I say softly as he finally matches my stare. It's then that I see the anxiety building up in his dark honey eyes. "Tell me what's going on, okay?"

"Y/n, I'm fine-" He chuckles nervously before I cut him off.

"Shawn...it's me. I know what anxiety looks like. Let's just...sit down and talk it out. All right?" He nods and I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

I perch myself next to him on the edge of the bed, our bodies facing each other. He looks at the floor with a concentrated stare as he purses his lips. "The truth is that I wanted you to be my date because I'm nervous about performing the new song and about the award," he confesses.

"Well, I gathered that much," I smile gently at him. The corner of his mouth twitches up ever so slightly. I pause, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I really want this award, y/n. Do you know how amazing it would be for me to get an award this huge?" He takes a breath and I nod. "I just...I think I'll actually be devastated if I don't win this one..."

I place my hand carefully on his bare shoulder, my fingers kneading gently into the tense muscles. He closes his eyes and visibly relaxes. "It's understandable that you want this. All great musicians want validation on this level. And I'm here to tell you that if you don't win this one...there's always next year. And the year after that...and the year after that..."

"This is why I wanted you here. You just...understand better than most people for some reason," he says incredulously as he grins at me.

"And why are you nervous about the song? Is it as raw as In My Blood? Or something similar?" I say as I clear my throat. I've listened to most of his songs but there are a select few that he said I'd have to wait to hear when the album drops.

He shakes his head as he looks at me. "No, I'm just always nervous when I release a new song. I have this incessant need to please everyone..." he chuckles softly.

"Well, I already know it's gonna be amazing," I say with a soft closed-lipped smile. "Everything you write is."

I stand up and hold my hands out to him. He takes them and stands with me. "I guess we should get ready to leave," he says as he looks down at me.

"I guess," I shrug and giggle as he pulls me in for a hug against his bare, toned chest. My fingertips press into the soft muscles on his back. One of his hands reaches to press into the small of my back and the other grips my shoulder gently.

We stand like that for a few minutes before we reluctantly release each other and bustle about getting ready for tonight.

A few hours before we have to leave, the people from yesterday come back to put me into my clothes to make sure everything is still perfect. A hair stylist and makeup artist show up as well to fix Shawn and me up. My hair is beautifully done. But, I had to convince the makeup artist to tone down the look she was going for.

With as much black eyeshadow as she was using, I could've ended up looking like a super villain. Instead, I asked her to go for a more glowing, golden look with very little black. I wanted it to look less scary, and more like me.

Once she was finished, I walked out of the bathroom to find Shawn adjusting his watch. When he looks up, his mouth immediately drops open. "Wow...y/n..."

"Is it too much?" I say as I smooth down the skirt of the ball gown.

"No! No, uh," he clears his throat as he puts one hand in his pocket and gestures to me with the other. "You look, uh, you look insanely gorgeous."

I feel my cheeks heat up and I take a deep breath. "Not so bad yourself, Mendes," I giggle and I see his cheeks tint pink.

In a whirlwind of rushing around, we finally find ourselves at the entrance of the red carpet. I hold onto Shawn's bicep as he prepares to escort me down the carpet. He must feel how tight my grip has gotten because he turns to me.

"Hey, it's okay. I've got you," he says reassuringly. I nod as I breathe in deeply and we begin walking out in front of the hoard of cameras.

Nothing could have prepared me for how bright and loud everything became all at once. I had to squint my eyes to see anything other than stars blurring my vision. Shawn handles everything like a pro, though.

He waves and smiles and stops at all the right places. He answers what questions he can hear with just enough to please them but not enough that he's given anything away. Out of nowhere, I suddenly relax. I'm here with Shawn and he said he's got me.

My eyes have finally adjusted to all the flashes and the sounds in my ears have suddenly become less muffled. I smile nervously and give a small wave. Shawn looks down at me. Yes, I'm wearing heels that are probably at least six inches and he still towers over me. He looks at me and smiles.

His smile causes butterflies in my stomach and my cheeks flush. I can't help but grin as he goes back to milking the crowd.

"Shawn! Shawn!"

"What can you tell us about the album?!"

"What song will you be singing tonight?"

"Why did you bring y/n as your date instead of a fellow celebrity?!"

"Are you two an item now??"

The questions hurl so fast that I can barely catch any of it. Shawn leans down and whispers to me, "Vultures. Every single one of them." He chuckles and so do I before he addresses the paparazzi. "I brought y/n because she's quickly become one of my closest friends. She's amazingly supportive and encouraging and I couldn't ask for anyone better to be here on this night."

Taking me by surprise, he holds my hand above my head and gestures for me to twirl around. Laughing, I do so and my dress fans out like a Disney princess' would. Clicks of cameras and more questions fly at us.

Instead of answering, he puts his hand on the small of my back and ushers me off the red carpet and eventually to our seats. Somehow, we've been seated relatively close to the stage and that makes me very anxious. The ones up front are always on the cameras more.

We take our seats and wait while everyone else is being seated. Deciding I'm too antsy to just sit here, I take out my phone and open my new Snapchat account. I hold it out in front of me and Shawn and he leans into my shoulder with a broad smile. I save the picture before putting a Grammys filter on it and send it to Anna and Xander.

The rest of the night goes like that. I take several videos and selfies of me and Shawn watching the other performances and awards being handed out. I take some of him by himself and he pulls out his phone to do the same but I hold my hand in front of it, giggling.

"It's time for me to go get ready for my song," he says into my ear after someone is gifted a golden gramophone award.

I look over at him beaming and nod. "You're gonna knock us all dead!" He squeezes my hand briefly before heading off and I'm left alone, surrounded by celebrity faces.

Some eye me with indecipherable looks and others smile warmly at me. I breathe deeply as I settle into my seat, waiting for Shawn to appear onstage. Someone sits down in Shawn's empty seat, startling me slightly.

My eyes widen as I look at the smiling face next to me. My mouth falls slightly open. The gorgeous blond man speaks with a thick Irish accent. "You must be y/n, yeah?"

"Yeah...how do you know that exactly?" I ask amazed that I'm speaking with him.

"Shawn got a hold of me a little while ago. Wanted me ta keep ya company while he performed."

I smile a little bit. "That was very sweet of him," I admit.

"Yeah, he also wanted me ta make sure that no one else made ya uncomfortable with anythin'."

I turn in my seat a little with an amused grin. "Uncomfortable as in mean to me or uncomfortable as in hitting on me?"

He shrugs. "Either, I guess. 'S understandable. If I had a date as pretty as ya I'd be protective as well," he smiles genuinely.

"And what if I said that you were making me uncomfortable?" I tease.

He looks at me with an impressed smirk. "Well, I guess I'd have ta tattle on maself then. In all honesty, am I though?"

"No, Niall," I chuckle. "Unless you're hitting on me. Then I'd have to question whether you're really his good friend or not." I smirk back.

He chuckles deeply and it's a gorgeous sound. "Wouldn't dream of it. I'd never go after someone he's so inta."

My cheeks heat up and someone announces that Shawn is about to begin singing. I clear my throat and turn back toward the stage as the lights come up on Shawn sitting on a stool with his guitar. A woman sits across from him at a very close proximity and a mic is positioned in front of his face while she holds hers.

I furrow my eyebrows as a familiar pang of something surges through my veins. Shaking it off, I clap with the rest of the crowd as Shawn begins to strum his guitar. It's a beautiful song, just like I knew it'd be. When she starts singing, I realize who she is. It's Julia Michaels. I absolutely love her songs and her voice.

The further into the song they go, the more he starts to smile and so does she. They never break eye contact, and my body is giving me confusing feelings. My heart is pounding rapidly and my stomach feels like it's in knots. I bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself.

When the song comes to an end, everyone stands up to clap. I do the same, swallowing the feeling of cement in my throat. Coughing into my hand I turn to Niall.

"When is the award Shawn's up for announced?" I ask over the noise.

He continues clapping while he answers. "Oh...not fer another half hour or so."

"Okay. I'm gonna try and find a bathroom."

He looks at me as his eyebrow quirks for half a second. "Uh, okay. One of the fellas at the entrance can give ya directions to it."

"Thanks!" I say as I pick up my skirt with both hands and walk off to a side entrance discreetly.

Sure enough, the guy at the door gives me perfect directions to where a bathroom is. I walk in and close the door, leaning against the wall. I begin taking deep breaths until I can get my heart rate to go back to normal and my hands to stop shaking.

Third P.O.V.

Adrenaline is pumping through Shawn's veins as he and Julia close out the song. He pulls her in for a hug with a bright smile before his eyes immediately find y/n in the front row. She's clapping happily for him as Niall stands next to her. Thank god he actually sat there with her.

He turns back to Julia for the briefest of moments as they share another smile. When he turns back to look at her in the front row, she's gone. Frantically, his eyes search everywhere they can see but there's no sign of her. They hurry backstage as the crew clears the stage to continue the awards.

Shawn hands his guitar to someone and rushes back out to where Niall is sitting and waiting. He sits down quickly in y/n's seat as he leans over and whispers to Niall. "Where's y/n?? You were supposed to keep an eye on her!"

"Relax, brother," he says in a chill tone. "She just went ta the bathroom."

Shawn rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Niall, I wanted you to watch out for her," he says urgently. Niall just looks at him like he isn't understanding why it's such a big deal. "Ugh! Niall, she's a flight risk! Okay?? I wanted you to sit with her in case she got anxious and wanted to bolt!"

"How was I s'posed ta know that? 'Sides, she's a grown woman and yer not the boss of 'er." He rolls his eyes playfully.

Shawn sighs. "No...I know I'm not. But, I really wanted her here if I get this Grammy," he says sadly.

"I do believe that's my seat you're sitting in," a sarcastic voice says and Shawn's eyes fly up to see the source.

A grin splits his face as he stands up and lets her sit down. He and Niall share a handshake and a hug before he returns to his seat. "Where'd you go? I looked out and you were gone," he says worriedly as he takes his seat, still sweaty from the stage lights.

"I went to the bathroom," she says as she shrugs her shoulders and scrunches her face in a frown.

His smile immediately falls away. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is great," she says with an inflection of the last word to signal a cheery tone. But, Shawn knows better than that fake tone. Plus, she hasn't looked at him since she sat down. Her eyes remained trained on the stage.

"You're lying," he says flatly. Honestly, he thought she was past all the fake feelings around him.

She turns to him with a displeased look. When she sees how concerned he is, her expression softens. "Sorry," she sighs. "I just needed a minute to breathe."

"You could've waited for me. I would've gon-" he begins to offer.

"Alone, Shawn." Her tone is final and he knows that she's not going to say any more about it.

An awkward silence settles over the two of them while they wait for Shawn's category. As the announcer finally begins it, she looks over at Shawn's anxious state. His leg is shaking uncontrollably and he keeps running a hand through his curls.

As the nominees are announced, she takes his hand and interlocks their fingers. He looks over at her with a grateful smile, squeezing her hand. Her heart melts for him, all of her feelings from earlier forgotten. The audience goes silent as the presenter opens the envelope.

"And the winner is...In My Blood by Shawn Mendes!!"

The two of them shoot up out of their chairs turning to each other excitedly. She giggles ecstatically as he laughs disbelievingly. Without a second thought, he circles his arms around her waist and lifts her up in a tight hug. Her arms rest around the back of his neck and one hand grips the curls on his head.

He sets her down and caught up in the moment, he grips her by her cheeks and pulls her in for a quick kiss. She freezes, too surprised to react or reciprocate it before he pulls away. Her eyes widen and she swallows hard. Shaking herself out of it, she claps and shoos him off to the stage to accept it, ignoring the looks of everyone in the audience.

The next few hours are a flash as the Grammys end and she's escorted to the airport for her flight home. Shawn goes with her to say goodbye before he returns to the city for afterparties and such. They arrive at the gate and she stops, turning to Shawn.

Her hair is loose around her shoulders, still curled from her updo. But, she wears comfortable sweats and a sweatshirt with tennis shoes. Shawn thinks she still looks as amazing as she did in her dress.

"So..." she says awkwardly.

He steps closer to her, hand finding her waist to pull her into him. "So?"

She sighs, stepping back from him. "You broke the rules, Shawn," she says quietly.

"What do you mean?" He says as his smile falters.

"You kissed me in front of everyone. There are sure to be more rumors now."

He rolls his eyes, still high off of winning his award. "Are they rumors if they're true?" He asks with a grin as he shrugs. He doesn't get what the big deal is. They've become so close in the past weekend by opening up to each other. He didn't think she'd actually make him wait until after his next world tour is over with.

He regrets being so cocky with that statement as her soft features twist into a scowl. "They're not true, Shawn! We talked about this last night. This just goes to show that you don't listen to anything I say!"

"I listen, y/n," he says shaking his head with a frown as he steps closer.

She stays where she is, holding her ground. "No, you don't. I don't think this is a good idea anymore," she spits out.

"What? No... no, no, no. Y/n, what are you saying," he whispers as he hovers over her.

She sighs. "I still want to be friends with you. But, I can't do couple-y stuff with you anymore. Not even in private. It's giving you the wrong idea," she states tiredly.

"I won't do it again. I promise! Just..." he looks into her pleading eyes with his own. He sees that this is a struggle for her to do and he hates himself for giving her so much to be conflicted over. "I'm sorry. I understand. No more couple stuff," he mumbles.

She clears her throat nervously. "I have to go...my flight is leaving soon. I'll see you for your album release party?"

"Yeah," he says with a nod and forces a smile onto his face. "Yeah, I can't wait to show you Toronto."

She gives a small smile as well. "Me either."

The two hug briefly, Shawn being careful not to linger too much. Then, she disappears behind the gate and he sulks back to the city where he enjoys absolutely none of the afterparties.

Before the Grammys, Shawn had made arrangements to have his release party be the same week of her Spring Break in early April so that she could spend more time with him in Toronto. She was gonna spend the whole week with him at his condo and he was so ecstatic that they'd be able to act like regular young adults for a little bit.

He waited anxiously at the gate where she was supposed to arrive. They didn't exactly leave on good terms in New York. Even though they texted and called in the meantime, Shawn still felt like there was something wrong. It was eating him alive.

"Excuse me? I'm supposed to meet my friend here, and you're just so tall I can't seem to find him."

Shawn's snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the familiar and teasing voice. "Y/n!" He breathes out before picking her up in a hug.

She giggles as he sets her down. "No, seriously have you seen him? He's about yay high," she stretches her hand up while standing on her tiptoes, "plays guitar...has a cute lil’ lazy eye...Oh! And he sings. Like a lot."

"You're hilarious," he grins with a roll of his eyes and she shrugs smugly. She seems okay. A lot less hostile than last time. He looks over her current state.

She's wearing a pair of basketball shorts, a simple fitted tee, and high-top converses on her feet. There's a sweater tied around her hips and her carry-on bag is hanging off her shoulder. Her long wavy hair is thrown up in a messy bun. Shawn looks at her the same way he looked at her the night of the Grammys when she was all dressed up. It's also the same way he looked at her on the beach that morning several months ago.

"And...you're staring, Shawn," she giggles as she tilts her head to the side, shifting the bun on her head.

He realizes he hasn't said anything as he's been thinking about how beautiful she is. "Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking about...the party," he lies.

"Ahuh," she nods her head as she begins walking past him. "Well, I still have to pick up my suitcase from baggage claim. Coming?" She turns back around several feet away and gestures her head toward where she's going before continuing on her way.

Shawn walks quickly to catch up with her small but determined steps. "So, uh," he clears his throat, "how's school going?"

"Well, I've got a project and an essay or two to finish before finals. The only thing getting me through it is knowing that after that I'll be a senior and I'm excited about that," she informs him as she stands next to the conveyer belt.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and nods. "I just realized that I've never actually asked what you're majoring in," he laughs nervously. The way she's acting so calm and put together is making him anxious. Like he's waiting for something to set her off and yell at him again.

"Uh..." she clears her throat as she sees her bag and lifts it off the belt by the handle and begins rolling it towards the exit. "I'm actually a double-major."

Shawn raises his eyebrows, impressed by her dedication. "Really? So what are your majors, then?"

"Commercial Multimedia...Computer Multimedia Graphics and Photography," she says like it's no big deal.

"Wait, what?" He stops in his tracks, perplexed. She turns around and gives him a questioning look.

"What?"

"Why are you majoring in those? I mean...what's the job you want to get?"

She shifts her weight to one foot, jutting her hip out as she rolls her head back. "Can we talk about it later? I smell like airplane and I really want to shower," she says with a playful smile.

"Sorry, yeah. Uh, car's this way," he says leading her out of there.

The ride to his condo his kind of quiet. She's too busy looking at everything through the window. Shawn just watches her with a small smile as she points things out, amazed at tiny differences from the States.

As soon as they get to his condo, Shawn shows her where to put her stuff and then the bathroom. She'll be using his room and he'll be sleeping on the couch while she's there. After fifteen minutes, she emerges in new clothes and her damp hair is pulled over one shoulder.

"Fancy digs," she says as she saunters into the kitchen and sits on a stool at the bar.

He looks up from where he's making some snacks and smiles. "If you say so," he says humbly. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Watchya got?" She says as she rests her chin on her hands.

Opening the fridge, he rummages around. "Got some juice...some tea...couple of beers...milk...no, wait, that's expired."

She laughs as he seemingly reacquaints himself with his own house. "Um...tea is fine," she says sitting up and scratching the back of her neck.

"Would you mind if I had a beer?" He asks casually.

She scrunches her features for a brief second. "It's your place. Go nuts," she laughs and it sounds kind of sad.

He sits down across from her at the bar and slides a glass of tea to her. "You okay? You seem tense." He smiles genuinely at her and she sighs.

"Yeah," she takes a sip of her drink to soothe her nerves. "It's just weird being in a different country with someone I've known for less than a year." She shrugs.

He slightly chuckles. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about me being some weird murderer. I'm Canadian, so being shady isn't..."

"In your blood?" She smirks before cracking a full smile. He nods, trying to hold back his amusement at her terrible joke.

"So, tell me about what you want to do with your degrees." He takes a sip of his beer and leans forward a little bit.

She looks up at the ceiling, a small smile playing at her lips. When she looks back at him, there's a mix of something he can see in her eyes. Hope, fear, determination...and so many other things.

"I want to, uh," she clears her throat. "I want to be a film editor. Maybe eventually a director." She shrugs as she takes another sip.

"What made you want to do that?"

She shrugs again. "I just like telling stories. Putting things together in beautiful ways."

He furrows his brows at her. "You don't seem very enthusiastic about it," he says with a chuckle.

"I am," she laughs and her eyes crinkle at the edges. "It's just depressing to think that by the time I make anything...my Nana won't be around to see it." She smiles sadly as she looks down at the counter.

Silently, Shawn reaches over and takes her hand in his. "Hey, you can't think like that."

She nods, blinking back the tears brimming in her eyes. She clears her throat and stands up. "Let's go do something! Show me all the sights. We've got like three days before the party."

"Your wish is my command," he says smoothly before grabbing his keys.

"Ah! I'll take those," she says holding out her hand.

"But I only had one sip," he chuckles.

"I don't care, you can give me directions everywhere."

Shawn spent the next few days showing her everything he could in Toronto. All the sights and restaurants he's been becoming familiar with himself. She took tons of pictures and videos of them and their adventures. Her favorites are the ones of Shawn being silly and singing along to the radio. Shawn's favorites were the ones he took of her when she was admiring the scenery or eating something new. He'd never tell her, or she'd force him to delete them all and he can't have that.

The day of the album release party rolls around and it's around 4 o'clock when y/n walks into the bedroom in capris and a baggy shirt.

Shawn looks her over while he arranges his outfit on the bed. "Hey, not to be all bossy or anything but you should start getting ready if we're gonna make it to the venue on time."

"What do you mean?" She says as she leans against the doorframe with her hair pulled up in a large clip.

He stops and gestures at her. "I mean doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed and all that. Whatever girls have to do," he says with a chuckle.

She furrows her brows at him confusedly. "But, I am ready. This is what I'm wearing," she says seriously.

"Huh? Y/n," he begins frustratedly.

She stands up straight and begins to look discouraged. "You don't like it?"

"What? No! No. You look great. I'll be ready in like an hour and a half-" he stops speaking when she starts laughing uncontrollably. And it's the real laugh that he loves so much.

She clutches her side as she points at him. "Oh my god! You were really gonna let me wear this?"

"Let you is a very strong term," he smiles despite himself.

She shakes her head as she turns on her heel to leave. "I would never do that to you. I'll be ready to go in like, two hours."

"Okay!" He calls after her.

Two hours later, Shawn is sitting on his couch shaking his leg anxiously. He sports black dress pants and a dark green button up with the sleeves rolled. The clicking of heels draws his attention to the hallway. Y/n is clicking her clutch closed as she looks up and her eyes find Shawn's.

Shawn wonders how many more times she can surprise him with how amazing she looks. Not to mention that she can wear so many different outfits and still have the same beauty. His eyes wander from her feet to the top of her head. She wears black strappy wedges and a black cocktail dress that flows from the thigh on one leg to mid-calf on the other. It has a strap over one shoulder and she wears dangly emerald earrings. Her hair is sleek and straight and falls down around her shoulders. He's never seen her hair that way before. The red lipstick she wears is a stark contrast from her neutral eyeshadow.

"You ready?" She asks nonchalantly as she adjusts one of her earrings. He swallows the lump in his throat and nods.

At the venue, Shawn leads her inside with his hand on the small of her back. Unbeknownst to him, every time he puts his hand there it drives her crazy. He leads her toward a table next to a small stage as people mill around chatting. She takes a sip of the water at her seat and he gets up on stage to kick the party off.

"Thanks for waiting, everyone. I know it's been a long time coming but the album is finally finished and it's the perfect night to share it with you all. Enjoy!" He raises his glass of champagne and sits back down while the album begins to play.

She's already heard a majority of the songs. Mostly upbeat and very well written. Each made her dance a little in her seat. So, she's very caught off guard when the slower songs start playing. She sits still, listening concentratedly to the lyrics. Shawn sits with his hand on his chin, anxiously still.

One song, in particular, makes her sit back in her seat after taking a sip of her water. The lyrics having the same impact as if someone had struck her in the face. It's clear that this is one of the songs that he wrote about her and her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The name of the song is Why it's about him and a girl who are in love with each other but refuse to do anything about it.

She clears her throat quietly. "Excuse me," she addresses the table as she takes her clutch and walks out into the hall. She paces as she clenches and unclenches her fists. How dare he be so passive aggressive about this when he knew from the beginning she wasn't looking for a relationship.

"Y/n."

Her head turns to the sound of her name and Shawn is closing the door to the private room to follow her. "Is everything okay?"

"Is everything okay?" She hisses quietly. "What the fuck, Shawn?" She shakes her head disbelievingly, her eyes glistening with water.

He looks at her confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that song! You wrote that about me," she whispers.

His shoulders raise up defensively. "I don't see what the big deal is. I told you at the diner-"

"That half the songs were gonna be about me. I know. But, you were joking. And now! Now, everyone is gonna see me as the heartless bitch that's playing with your emotions," she says with a wavering voice.

His expression softens. "No one is gonn-"

He stops speaking when her clutch starts vibrating. Unlatching it,  she reaches in and takes out her phone. She reads the id and eyes Shawn irritatedly as she puts it to her ear.

"Is everything okay?" She sighs into the phone.

Her expression changes into shocked and then unreadable. "No. No, I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm leaving right now."

She hangs up the phone and puts it back in her clutch as she walks toward the exit of the building. Shawn grabs her elbow gently to stop her.

"What's going on?"

She has an incredulous look on her face and gives a small laugh. "It's my Nana. That was the caretaker. She's asking for me," she smiles but her eyes don't seem happy.

"That's good right?" Shawn says with an excited tone and grabs her other elbow to face her.

She nods, swallowing hard. "Yeah, but I don't know how long it's gonna last so I gotta go."

"I'll come with you," he offers.

She shakes her head. "No, it's okay. You finish the party and I'll call you when I land." She stretches up to kiss him on the cheek and disappears.

Shawn heads back to the party, the uneasiness in her eyes eating at the back of his mind. A few hours later, Andrew makes his way over to Shawn and claps him on the shoulder.

"Where'd y/n go?" He asks with a smile. He had become more fond of her over the course of time because of how well Shawn has been doing thanks to her.

He clears his throat. "She had to go home. Her Nana was asking for her," he says with a small smile.

"She left your release party for that?" Andrew furrows his eyebrows confusedly.

Shawn shrugs. "Well, I don't think I'm supposed to tell. But, her Nana has Alzheimer's. She hasn't remembered her for a while..." he trails off.

"Oh, uh," Andrew clears his throat. "I think you should probably go see her."

"What do you mean? I'm sure she wants to spend time with her alone."

"Maybe," Andrew refuses to meet his eyes. "But, I think she could use your support after."

"After what?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He asks growing concerned.

"Well, Shawn," he pauses trying to find the words. "Sometimes, when someone with Alzheimer's suddenly remembers everything...it's kind of known as the final burst of clarity before passing."

"Passing...as in..." Shawn's face turns pale.

Andrew just nods, confirming his train of thought. "Go on. I'll close this thing out."

Shawn doesn't need to be told twice before he races home to gather some things and then to the airport.

First P.O.V.

I stand in the open doorway to her room. Having discarded my shoes at the door, the carpet muffles my footsteps and she doesn't know I'm here yet. She looks so...small. I saw her over winter break, but she just looks even more fragile.

She sits propped up by pillows, reading an unfolded paper with slightly shaking hands. I smile to myself as at the glasses that sit on her nose. They are like comically large, with very thin frames.

I guess I must've been so lost seeing her look like her that I didn't notice her finally look up. "Y/n, sweetie. Is that you?"

"Yeah, Nana. I'm here," I say with a sad smile as I wipe at my now wet cheeks. I enter slowly and pull up a comfortable sitting chair next to her bed. My smile grows when I see the piles of letters strewn about her.

She holds her hand out and I take it, squeezing gently with a mix of emotions. "I've missed so much according to these letters," she says softly.

I shake my head as I kiss her hand. "You didn't miss anything spectacular."

"What about this boy in the recent ones?" She says with that all-knowing grin of hers.

I rest my head on the bed in embarrassment. "What about him?" I say, my voice muffled by the mattress.

"Tell me more about him! Is he your one?" She asks conspiratorially.

I lift my head up, a bemused look on my face. "You know I don't believe in that stuff," I chuckle.

"Well, you don't have to believe in it to just like him," she laughs. It warms my heart, but also sends an ache through my veins.

"I do like him. As a friend," I say not convincingly.

She squints her eyes knowingly. "Why not as more?"

"We argue too much and we're just really different. I don't think our goals for life align," I sigh.

She laughs to herself. "Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into why it won't work out."

"Nana..." I roll my eyes.

"You were always a cynical one, y/n."

"I prefer realistic."

"Either way...tell me what he's like. The letters don't say much," she insists.

I sigh, a smile playing at my lips. "Well..."

I tell her all about all the things I didn't say in the letters. I don't know how long I talked for before I started drifting off into sleep. Exhausted from the plane, I lay my head down on the mattress and sleep like that.

A pressure on my shoulder shakes me gently awake. "Wha...hm?" I ask still disoriented from sleep.

"Someone's at the door, sweetie," she whispers.

I look around and see that it's light outside. "I'll get it," I say as I shuffle to the door.

Opening it, I squint at the sudden burst of light. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust and see who's there. My chest constricts and my heart begins beating wildly.

"Shawn," I breathe out. "What...uh...what are you doing here?"

He looks at me sadly. "You need to stop doing that," he says with an unreadable tone.

"Stop doing what?" I ask as I step aside and he enters slowly.

He takes his hands from his pockets and grips my cheeks suddenly, forcing me to look at him. I instinctively suck in a breath and meet his eyes. They are full of worry and sympathy.

"Stop lying about what's going on in your life because you don't want to burden me. You don't have to push me away. You don't have to deal with everything on your own," he says passionately.

My emotional defenses kick in. "So, did you write that down first or was it off the top of your head?" I give a short chuckle.

"Y/n," he says his brows furrowing almost angrily at the fact that I'm joking right now. "Did you really just quote a Captain America movie? Seriously?"

I shrug, my facade starting to wear off as my face scrunches up and my lip quivers. "Sorry," I whimper.

He says nothing as he pulls me into him tightly. I finally release the breath I've been holding since I got here. My body shakes as silent tears trail down my cheeks and my fingertips claw at the fabric on his back.

"Y/n? Who was it?" I hear from the other room.

Immediately, I straighten up and wipe at my face. Breathing deeply, I steady myself. "C'mon. I want you to meet her," I nod toward the hall.

I walk back into her room with Shawn trailing behind me. She immediately notices and smiles.

"Who's this?"

"This is the boy, Nana," I say quietly with a blush on my cheeks.

"Oh! He's so tall," she giggles.

I snort and cover my mouth. "Yes, he is. What are you, like over six feet?" I say addressing him.

He steps from the doorway into the room, startled. "Uh...yeah. Hi, I'm Shawn," he says reaching his hand out to her and shaking her tiny one.

"Y/n, honey. Why don't you get changed? You've been wearing that dress since last night," she suggests.

I agree, saying I'll make her some breakfast when I'm finished. Once changed, I head into the kitchen to make something while I listen to laughter drift down the hallway. I smile to myself, turning on some music. I wish I could explain the feeling in my chest hearing them getting along.

Two days.

The next two days were as blissful as that moment. Just like that, I'm standing in the corner of the room while the caretaker covers her with a sheet. Shawn stands behind me, holding me tightly in a hug to keep me from collapsing on the floor. I can't. I can't keep going like this.

She had already made the arrangements for everything after that so I could grieve instead of stressing about flower arrangements. But, I don't want to grieve. I want her back. I can't even process all the emotions going through my body. Everything blurs together in my worn out and numb state.

The only thing getting me from one moment to the next is Shawn. I never thought I'd need someone so much in my life. I never thought I'd want someone there to witness all the bad shit. He just somehow knows all the right things to do and say. Just his presence is comforting.

As soon as the funeral is over, and she's laid to rest next to Papa, I begin packing up our small house. I save her room for last because I know it'll be hard to go through everything. With help from Shawn, I manage to get through it in a day.

I had already emailed all my professors at college saying I'd be missing the week after Spring Break is over. Her funeral was on Thursday. Now, it's Saturday and I'm sitting on the floor of an empty house.

Shawn sits down across from me. "You doing okay?" I shrug. "Are you just gonna leave that here?" He gestures to the small rectangular piano against the far wall from the entrance.

"I have nowhere to put it, now do I?" I smile sadly, standing up and walking over to it. I run my fingers along the worn out wood before sitting on the bench.

He joins me on my left as I tap some keys mindlessly. "You play?"

"Nah. I took a couple lessons as a kid...Nana always meant to teach me," I grin as I place my fingers on what I think are the correct starting keys. "We got as far as the basic keys..."

I feel his hand slip over mine and move one of my fingers over. "I could teach you if you want," he offers and his voice reminds me of drinking hot chocolate on a cold day.

"You have time for that?" I ask, looking at him briefly before tapping them again.

He bumps his shoulder into mine. "I'd make time." He smiles as he turns his head towards me, hand still on top of mine. Every nerve tingles and I can't help myself.

I quickly lean up and press my lips to his hastily. To my surprise and my disappointment, he pulls away. "What's wrong?" I say furrowing my brows as I look from his lips to his eyes.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," he says cautiously. "I mean the circumstances...you're mourning..." he struggles to explain.

I stand up abruptly. "No. Yeah. You're right," I say scratching my head as embarrassment floods my body. "Uh...I think I'm actually gonna go ahead and go back to college. You know, since everything is done early."

I head to the door and out to the car. He catches up with me on the sidewalk. "Y/n, wait!"

"I'm okay, Shawn. We're cool. I get it," I say biting the inside of my cheek as I put one hand in my back pocket. "Uh, thanks for bringing all my stuff back. It saves me another long trip."

He steps toward me and his hand brushes my elbow. I shy away from it and he sighs. "Yeah. Anytime. We should leave. It's a couple hours to the airport."

"Yep."

The tension in the car was suffocating. Parting ways at the airport didn't make it easier to breathe. Arriving at the terminal, I grab my things and head back to the hotel. I'm greeted by sympathetic hugs from Xander and Anna.

Life went on. I showed up to class, I did my project and essays and studied for finals. I worked at my job every single day just so I didn't have to stop and think about anything. Anna was great about occupying my time.

She made sure I didn't stay locked in my room too much. Made sure that I was eating enough and that I wasn't sinking into the bad place. I still think about her almost every minute of the day. But, I'm starting to feel like myself again.

Finals went over smoothly. Nana always said I was a natural scholar. It's about mid-May and I'm tanning on the beach when my phone goes off. I pick it up and answer with a carefree tone.

"'Sup?" I say my eyes still closed.

There's a pause on the other end before someone clears their throat. "Y/n? Is this a bad time?" The familiar and soothing voice asks.

"Nope. Always got time for my favorite Canadian," I chirp as the sun warms my skin.

He chuckles. "You sound good. You been doing okay?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "Passed my finals. Work is great. Getting my tan on," I giggle.

Another gorgeous laugh from his end. "That's good to hear," he pauses uncertainly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice?"

"I just wanted to hear your opinion on the video that went up yesterday," he laughs.

I furrow my brows, turning over to tan my back. "Video?"

"Yeah, the video for Nervous is on my YouTube page. I just assumed you would've seen it by now," he says in a strange voice.

I put him on speaker and open the app on my phone. "Uh...it's not like you told me it was coming out. I used to be the first to know everything. You're slacking, Mendes," I chuckle as the video begins.

My happy mood is instantly replaced with irritation. The vertical video is him sitting on something, playing his guitar. That's cool. That I can deal with. It's the girl running her hands all over him that sends a fire coursing through my blood.

I shut it off before watching the entire thing. "Yeah...it looks great. You look like you're having fun."

"Did you just watch it?"

I hum. "Like half. I get the gist."

"You didn't watch the whole thing?"

I scoff. "Why would I? It's just some girl running her hands all over you repeatedly. It's a cool video. It's gonna get a lot of buzz from all the fans."

"But, you don't like it?" He questions me.

I shrug even though he can't see. "I have no reason not to like it," I lie.

Ever since Spring Break, I've wanted to tell him the truth about how I feel. It was literally my Nana's last wish for me. To stop being so jaded and accept the good things when they come my way. And Shawn was a good thing. An amazing thing. But, the way he's been acting lately makes it seem like I've ruined my one chance.

I don't want to confess all this to him if he's just gonna reject me like back then. It's like we can't get on the same page.

"Just because you don't have a reason...that doesn't mean that you still don't," he reasons. I roll my eyes. "I heard that."

I chuckle. He knows me too damn well. "Hundred percent honesty?"

"Please."

"It's not that I don't like the video. It's a cute concept. I just don't like the random girl's hands touching all over you part," I say bluntly.

There's a long pause. "Y/n..." I close my eyes, preparing for some form of rejection. "If I had known it would bother you, I would've just asked you to do it."

I laugh out loud. "Oh, no. I prefer to stay behind the camera."

"Why? You look perfect on it."

I blush wildly. "Whatever."

He clears his throat. "Anyway, what are your plans for the rest of the summer?"

"Working and...a lot of chilling on the beach," I giggle. There's another long pause. "Your pausing gives me anxiety," I admit.

"Oh, sorry," he clears his throat. "What would you say to coming on my festival tour with me?"

I bite my lip. "I would say that it sounds awesome...but I have a job and I can't leave it for that long."

"Xander said you have all your vacation days to cash in," he answers immediately.

An annoyed grin splits my face. "I'm gonna kill him. I thought he was done meddling."

"So why do you really not wanna go?"

"I dunno..."

"Y/n."

"I do wanna go," I admit with a happy sigh.

He chuckles. "Then come with me. Seeing the world...watching amazing performances...spending a lot more time together than we've ever gotten" he entices me.

"Well...I guess when you put it that way...how could I say no?" I hear him cheer in victory to himself on the other end and I laugh. "When do I have to meet you to leave?"

"Two weeks," he says happily.

I'm a ball of energy for those two weeks before I fly to Toronto to meet Shawn and kick off the festival tour. Xander is obviously ecstatic for me as him and Anna drive me to the airport. Anna is in one of her moods.

"I just don't think it's a good idea for you to go traveling around the world with a guy you barely know," she says with her arms crossed from the backseat.

I sigh as I look at her in the rearview mirror. "Anna we've been over this. I'll be fine. And he's not some stranger I just met."

"He might as well be," she pouts.

I shake my head knowing there's no getting through to her. "I'll send you guys lots of selfies," I promise.

Xander helps me carry all my stuff to the luggage check. We hug and I thank him for being the meddling best friend that he is. I wish Anna would be as supportive as him. If I'm happy, shouldn't she be too?

I manage to finish half of one of the books I brought on the plane to Toronto. When I touch down, a man in a suit is waiting for me at the gate.

"Hey, Andrew. Where are we headed?" I ask as I approach and he turns to lead me somewhere.

"We are headed to the private section. Your bags are being routed there as we speak," he says in a business-like tone. After a beat he continues, "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," I say honestly.

He frowns for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother..."

I inhale for a second. "Thank you."

With that, we walk in silence to the private terminal. I've never been on a private plane, so this should be fun.

Third P.O.V.

Shawn bustles about the cabin of the private airplane making sure that he had everything and that y/n would be comfortable. He made sure there were snacks that she'd like and an assortment of drinks.

What if she gets bored on the flight?

How could he have forgotten about entertainment?? Shawn was just about ready to pull his gorgeous brown locks out when Andrew entered from the outside.

"I found y-" He stops when he sees Shawn's panicked state. "What the hell happened to you?"

His eyes widen and he looks so defeated and ashamed. "Entertainment. I made sure the stupid plane had everything...snacks, drinks, comfortable blankets, and pillows...but no. I had to forget one important thing."

All Andrew can do is stand there and watch as Shawn has a meltdown over not having in-flight movies or something for y/n. She was talking to a luggage attendant to make sure all of her bags had arrived and were being put in the underside of the plane.

Footsteps can be heard ascending the steps and Shawn leans against a seat, trying to act normal. When y/n enters through the door, her eyes widen. It was way fancier than she thought it was going to be.

Her eyes landed on Shawn, and she could feel his anxiety from the distance between them. Her face falls. "Oh, god. What happened?" She asks concernedly as she sets her stuff in a seat and immediately walks right up to Shawn.

She places her hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her. "Iforgottomakesuretherewasentertainment..." he mumbled through his mushed cheeks.

"What?" She asks before her brain figured out what he said and she continued. "Well, I can't fly around the world without entertainment on this private plane!! That'd be outrageous! This is seriously the worst service I've ever had. I'll be taking my business elsewhere..." she says dramatically as she pretends to leave.

He grabs her by the wrists and pulls her back into him for a hug while chuckling at his own silliness. She giggles as her hands find his back and she squeezes. "You seriously need to chill a little, Shawn," she mumbles into his chest before letting go.

He just rolls his eyes. Once the plane takes off, he finds that she brought her own entertainment. Books, sudoku puzzles, and even her laptop.

"Why'd you bring your laptop?" He asks from under his fuzzy blanket and pulls one headphone off of his ear.

She continues clicking and typing on it as she shrugs. "Not telling. It's a surprise," she smirks to herself. He returns the gesture and settles back in to go to sleep.

The next time he wakes, it's her that's asleep and there are still a few hours left before they land. He figures he should wake her so she can adjust to the time difference. But, she just looks so peaceful. He takes a picture of her instead.

"Quit being creepy," she suddenly mumbles sleepily, startling Shawn.

He clutches his chest as it thumps. "I'm not."

"Taking pictures of me while I'm sleeping?" She smiles with her eyes still closed. She laughs a little. "'S okay. I do it too. You just look so cute..." she trails off back to sleep.

Wait. What the hell? Did he dream that? Is he still asleep? Shawn shakes off the weirdness of her confession and waits for the plane to reach their destination. Just before the plane descends, Shawn gently wakes her up so she can look out the window.

Her eyes light up as she sees the foreign land for the first time and while she's distracted, he takes another picture. She doesn't seem to notice this time, or if she does she doesn't say anything.

So for the first night, they'll be staying in a hotel and then they'll be taking a tour bus around the festival route. They unpack some of their things in a weird silence. Shawn isn't sure if the tension is bad or if it's comfortable.

She answers his question when she speaks. "So...how was the Met Gala?" She clears her throat slightly and keeps her back to him. He looks at her posture and can see that her motions are tight and her breathing is deep.

"It was...good," he says cautiously.

She turns around with a small smile on her face. "Yeah? Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. I did, actually. I'm glad Hailey came with me. She's a pro at that stuff," he chatters happily, his cautiousness evaporating thinking that y/n was fine.

Her smile dulls and her eyes look at the floor while she inhaled again. "Oh. That's nice," she says quietly as she takes her bag to the bathroom to lay out some things.

Shawn closes his eyes tight as he sighs. What the hell is up with the two of them? It's like they're walking on eggshells around each other but neither can say why. Shawn knows why he is.

She kissed him after her grandmother's funeral and he pushed her away. Even though he wanted to kiss her back and make her his. He didn't. Instead, he did the mature thing and stopped it. Knowing that she was just confused. Now, he's being punished for it because she was embarrassed.

But, if she was confused...then why was she jealous of the Nervous video? He opens his eyes at the sound of her reentering the room. Come on, Shawn. No one ever got anywhere by beating around the bush.

"Is everything okay?" He ventures, not wanting to get immediately to what's on his mind.

She looks at him and fake smiles before sighing. "Why wouldn't I be?" She shrugs.

"Y/n," he scrunches his eyebrows at her deflective answer. "You got all quiet and left the room when I brought up Hailey."

Her jaw clenches and she swallows. She looks at his concerned expression and she knows he's not done asking questions. This is what she wanted right? She brought up the Met Gala to ask about why he didn't want to take her. Honestly it hurt her feelings that not only did he not take her, he took a model.

"Why'd you take her?" She asks with a confused expression as she stands extremely still.

He's confused by the question. "I didn't take her necessarily, we just went together," he explains.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Her stone cold expression softens around the eyes.

"I figured you had school and work and...you know you were still grieving...plus you didn't really like being dressed like a doll last time. It wasn't like the release party where you could dress yourself, it was more sophisticated," he offers. And those were the real reasons he didn't take you. He didn't want to stress you out.

Her stare turns blank as her heart sinks in her chest. She blinks slowly to make sure she's not creating any tears. There's no reason to cry. She wanted honesty and he gave it to her. She scrunches her nose briefly as she sniffs and licks her lips, pulling her lip between her teeth.

She nods slowly. "So...now I'm not sophisticated enough for you?"

His eyes widen. "What? No! I didn't say that, y/n."

"God. Nothing I do is good enough..." she mumbles under her breath. What is she doing wrong? She dresses up in fancy clothes, he doesn't like it. She doesn't dress up in fancy enough clothes, he doesn't like it.

He squints and steps closer. "What'd you just say?"

"Never mind," she sighs and shakes her head, pulling back the covers to her bed.

He sighs while he rolls his eyes exasperatedly. "Y/n-"

"No. I'm serious. It's fine. I don't have to go to every important thing in your life. It's cool," she says as she lays down facing away from him and pulls the covers up to her chin.

He sits on the edge of the bed. She's pouting and he knows it. What he doesn't know is how to fix it. Suddenly, he smiles to himself as he places a hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't take you to the Met Gala..." he starts and she turns to look at him, her face taking on an annoyed expression. "I'm sorry I didn't at least ask you. But, I did ask you to come on this tour with me. Because I do want you to be at every important thing in my life."

She looks at him contemplatively. Her eyes twinkle and she grins to herself as she turns back over without saying anything. Shawn chuckles to himself. That must've worked. For now.