#it's a better form of expression for me bcs i feel like painting is a way for me to express desires & concepts but writing helps me process

[kentopedia]

my girl dad dazai post but now i’m thinking abt pm boss dazai as a dad …

he knows the mafia is no place for a child, but then you get pregnant, and he realizes just how badly he does wants to be a dad (even if he thinks he’ll bad at it)

he swears to himself he’ll protect her from all the bad things in the world, but it’s not just him … she’s got everyone in the port mafia wrapped around her little finger. so dazai feels a little better, knowing he’s got a handful of the most powerful ability users looking out for her <3

and she can get away with anythinggg. there is a lot of “just don’t tell your mom” happening (from dazai & everyone else). she loves that everyone has a special ability, but chuuya’s is her favorite bc he can float anything ! and she is dazai’s child so don’t doubt she is a menace !! if chuuya won’t fly her in the air, she’ll start tearing up bc she knowssss it makes him feel bad >:)

dazai has a lot going on with the port mafia, but nothing is more important than you and his daughter. he puts everything aside for the two of you !! the most devoted husband and father

dazai stops, mid sentence, looking up at the sound of the door slamming shut, little footsteps sprinting across the room. he’s in the meeting room with the execs, discussing the foreseeable future of the mafia.

“daddy! daddy!” she shouts, running with something waving wildly in her hand. you’re two steps behind, her but she’s far too quick, too excited about her newest creation to stop. “look what i made!”

and though dazai is in the middle of an important meeting, his entire body language changes, and he’s turning towards the little girl, a big smile on his face. “what did you make today, cutie?” he asks, picking her up to pull into his lap.

“mommy showed me how to paint!” she shoves the canvas into his hand, a proud grin on her face as dazai brushes away her tangled hair. “look! it’s all of us!” she says, but her l’s still sound a little like w’s, and dazai can’t help but marvel at the fact that this sweet little girl has been raised by him.

she points to herself, a stick figure with an odd-shaped head, and nothing more than two lines of dark hair. “that’s me! and there’s you and mommy!” there’s a heart painted between your heads, and it makes dazai melt, the fact that even your daughter can see all the love you have for each other.

he wants to kiss you so badly, overwhelmed by affection for the two most important people in his life.

but then his little girl is pointing to a chaotic block of red and black, painted in splatters in the corner of the canvas. “and there’s uncle chuuya!”

dazai stares at it, blinks, then bursts into a fit of laughter that has his stomach aching. there’s a little hat on top of the mess of paint, and it sends dazai into another spiral.

“let me see that!” chuuya says, grumbling as he snatches the canvas out of dazai’s hand.

“what?” your daughter asks, frowning as she pokes her dad in the face, trying to get him to stop his laughter. “is it bad, uncle chuu?”

and chuuya, who previously had a grumpy expression, softens, not wanting to break the poor girl’s heart. “no, it’s real good,” he promises, even if he’s a bit offended by the portrayal, when she made her own family look so sweet. “it looks just like me!”

dazai chokes, but finally stops laughing to himself when you flick the back of his head.

“yay!” your daughter says, throwing her arms up high, grinning at chuuya’s praise. she’s so adorable that dazai has half a mind to squeeze her tight and never let her go. “see, mommy i told you they’d like it!”

you sigh, and take her from dazai’s arms. “you were supposed to show them after the meeting.” she’s still making grabby hands at her dad as you hold her, a pout forming while she squirms in your arms, trying to escape. “sorry, ‘samu. i know you’re busy today.”

dazai leans up, standing halfway out of his chair to kiss the frown off your face. “don’t apologize, darling.” he caresses your cheek softly, before looking back at his daughter, who just wants to be nosy and listen in to the adult conversations. “i always have time for my two favorite girls.”

you smile, softening as dazai ruffles his daughter’s hair.

“i want to stay here with you!” the little girl says, and dazai laughs, closing up her fists with his palm gently as she tries to climb onto him.

“i’ll be done in just a little bit, sweetie. then, how about we have a tea party? i’ll go get you some ice cream too! but you have to listen to your mom until then, okay?”

“i’ll listen, i promise!” she squeals in excitement, and then sobers, leaning back into your arms with a serious expression. “can you bring a special guest again? maybe akutagawa this time? he hasn’t been to a tea party yet!”

dazai’s lip twitches, but he doesn’t let the smile break free. still, the mere thought of akutagawa pouring tea for his daughter is enough to have him complying with her wishes. “sure, honey. i think i can arrange that.”

[auras-moonstone]

hiiiii!!! there aren’t enough jack imagines, so could you do and actress!reader x jack? just a cute fluff bc jack is suck a lover boy 💗 thanks!!!

happy birthday — jack champion

word count: 1,216

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n surprises her boyfriend, jack, on his 19th birthday party.

warnings: none, just fluff!

author's note: i meant to post this yesterday bc of jack's bd, but i wasn't able to finish it :( by the way, hope we get the mandatory pic with the 19 balloons.

JACK HAD ALWAYS LOVED CELEBRATING HIS BIRTHDAY, but this year his excitement had been on another level because there was a special someone he was looking forward to celebrate it with--his girlfriend of almost a year, Y/N. So, imagine how disappointed he was when she informed him she wasn't going to make it.

"Are you sure you can't do anything about it?" Jack asked hopeful as he facetimed his girlfriend, who was away in another country filming a movie.

"I'm sorry, love. I wish I could go, but you know how shootings are, I can't just bail." she pursed her lips at the disappointed expression painted on Jack's face.

Jack tried to put on his most convincing smile and nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's not your fault, I just miss you."

"Me, too, J. So much." she swallowed the lump that began forming on her throat. Seeing his puppy brown eyes turn glossy was heartbreaking, and the weight of the guilt was crushing her. "Maybe we can facetime when you blow the candles?"

"Of course, babe." he smiled weakly. "I'm sorry for being like this. I know you don't have a choice, and I hate seeing how the guilt is eating you. I promise I'm not mad, and I know that if you could, you would be taking the first flight back home to me. I love you."

"You're allowed to feel sad, J. Don't apologize." Y/N checked the time and let out a curse. It was almost 1AM, and she was going to be late. "Sorry, babe, I've got to go. Have fun, okay? I love you. Happy birthday."

When they hung up, Y/N grabbed her suitcase and left the place she had been staying at while she filmed the movie. Once she arrived to the airport and did the check-in, she texted Jack's mom.

hii, i'm about to board the plane! how's jack?

not going to lie, he's crushed but he'll love the surprise, don't worry❤️

i hate lying to him :( but you're right. i'll see you in a couple of hours!

JACK’S FRIENDS DRAGGED HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR A WALK AS HIS FAMILY SET EVERYTHING FOR THE BIRTHDAY PARTY. For someone who loved his birthday, he was looking gloomy and not thrilled at all to go on with the party. His friends were tempted to spoil the surprise, just to get the sad frown off Jack’s face, but they knew that his blue mood was going to go away in a couple of minutes.

“Man, you’re going to spend so much birthdays together. And even though Y/N’s not here physically, she’s still going to make sure she’ll be there celebrating with you, even if it's through a phone.” one of his friend bumped him in the shoulder.

“No, I know. It’s not just because it’s my birthday, it’s because I haven’t seen her in a while and I was hoping this could be the excuse we needed to see each other.” his gaze was focused on the broken cobblestones.

“We get it, we do. But you know better than any of us how the industry works.”

He did. He really understood that the situation was beyond Y/N’s hands. She couldn’t abandon set just because her boyfriend was celebrating his birthday. But still, it didn’t make him miss her any less.

When Jack and his friends entered his house again, his mood lifted up a little. Even though his special girl wasn't there, his family and friends came to spend his day with him and that warmed his heart.

“This looks amazing! Thank you.” he said in a cheerful voice as he looked around. The living room was decorated with colourful balloons and confetti thrown on ground. Glued to the wall, there were garlands that read ‘Happy Birthday’ and golden balloons with the number 1 and 9. “I’m going to take a picture for Y/N/N.”

“There’s one more surprise.” his mother exclaimed excited.

Jack frowned but before he could say anything, two hands were covering his eyes from behind him. The tall boy stiffened, he couldn’t see the person but their scent was one he knew all too well. His heart threatened to leap out of his chest as the voice whispered in his ear, “Surprise, birthday boy”

He turned around and quickly lifted her up in his arms, crushing her into a tight hug. “You’re here!” he exclaimed in shock. Y/N gave him a 'I'm right here' smile and then laughed.

“Of course I’m here! I was never going to miss my boyfriend’s birthday.” she said against his neck.

“It never even crossed my mind that you might have been lying.” he laughed in disbelief.

“Well, I hope not. I act for a living, remember?” Y/N said teasingly. Her heart almost exploded at the way Jack was looking at her—sparkling eyes clouded by adoration.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Jack showed her the smile she adored and had missed so much. He didn't care that his family's eyes were on them, he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her into a kiss. “Did you always know you were coming or was it recent?”

“Babe, I would’ve never missed your birthday. I told the directors I was coming here weeks ago. We made sure to film the majority of my scenes so that these days they could focus on the ones I wasn’t in.” she explained.

“That’s why you have been so exhausted the past days, you were working your ass off so that you would be able to come and see me?” Jack swore he was about to cry at the revelation.

“And I would do it again.” she said in a confident tone. The way Jack’s face lit up when he saw her? She would do anything to keep him looking at her that way. “Anyways, enough about my very romantic gesture.” she joked. “Let’s celebrate your birthday.”

IT WAS ALMOST ELEVEN WHEN Y/N AND JACK WERE FINALLY SETTLED INTO THE BED. The girl was trying her best not to fall asleep, while the boy had energy to spare. He was just too happy that tiredness didn’t creep into his body. He was still on cloud nine from his amazing day.

“Thank you for being here. I had the best birthday ever.” Jack smiled widely, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m glad, love.” she said with eyes closed as she started playing with his hair, making him sigh contently. “By the way, I’m sorry for making you feel sad when I told you I wouldn’t make it. I hate lying to you and seeing you disappointed was heart wrenching, and I’m truly sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. Your intentions were good. Besides, it was totally worth it.” Jack assured her. “I get to end my day with you, and tomorrow I’ll wake up next to you. I’m living my best life.”

Y/N smiled at his sweet words and bent her head down to press a kiss to his nose. “I love you so much.”

He raised his head and press a kiss to her soft lips. “But I love you more."

"Mmm no, this month I win the battle." she laughed.

Jack grinned like a love-sick puppy, still not believing what she had done for him. "True."

[c0rps3gr1nd3r]

Songs that remind me of Metalocalypse characters with bad explanations

The lyrics might be separated wrong. I saw this format like two years ago and couldn't think of a better way to separate these😭

Nathan: As snow falls // On desert skies // Until the end of everything // I'm tryin, I'm tryin // To let you know // How much you mean // As days fade // And nights grow // And we grow cold - Demolition Lovers, My Chemical Romance

This might be a stretch so hear me out. I chose this because of his inability to express emotions verbally. "I'm tryin to let you know how much you mean" holds to him because he'd need to push himself to vomiting before getting out an apology, let alone telling a person that they mean a lot to him. He might have done something like that before but I can't recall, and I haven't seen Army of The Doomstar yet so he might do it there.

Toki: You're just a boy // You are no man and // Nobody you know will understand - Things To Do, Alex G

I think about him when I hear this because of the age regression. This might be a problematic take, and I hope it isn't, but that aspect is the most noted part of him by many people. Whether it be because they hate it or are insanely excited to have representation of someone like them. The "Nobody you know will understand" is sort of an exaggeration of how many people don't understand age regression.

Skwisgaar: En tid styrd av mörker och krig // 
En legend beskriver ett lejon // Den besten tar form av en man // Med en dröm att den skall bli sann (A time of religion and war //legends tell the tale of a lion //This beast in the shape of a man // with a dream to rule sea and land)

I don't think this just because it's in Swedish I swear😭. I think this because I feel like he's a big legend guy. I can imagine little Skwisgaar in the library reading about legends while he knows his mom is "busy."

Murderface: So how do I apologize // And put the tears back in your eyes // On every canvas that I paint // Is a masterpiece of my mistakes - Masterpiece, Motionless In White

I think this one because actually idk why. If i had to pick an alternate for him, it would be in Disfigured by Cannibal Corpse. I think that song is more like him because of the whole "ugly" thing.

Pickles: Happy, are you sad? // Wanna shoot your dad // I'll do anything I can // It's the wrong way - Wrong Way, Sublime

This one was chosen bc of the obvious family issues. Every time Pickles is shown with his family it's obvious how much they hate each other. By "each other" I mean Pickles hating everyone, yet his brother and mom having a good connection. I also just think of Pickles as a whole when I hear this song.

Charles: Sweetness, Sweetness // I was only joking when I said I'd like to // Smash every tooth in your head // Sweetness, sweetness // I was only joking when I said // By rights you // Should be Bludgeoned in your bed - Bigmouth Strikes Again, The Smiths

This one was hard to think of because Charles doesn't have much of emotion that I pick up on. I decided on this one since he's always with a metal band that write some pretty brutal shit. I wouldn't be surprised if the violence accidentally seeped into his daily life. That would make talking to a potential lover like this, and having to calm them down. This is kinda bs bc he prolly doesn't want or need a relationship, but idc I love explaining my bullshit.

Abigail: Well, it'll take more than a fancy trip // Or a chauffeured limousine // Cause I ain't never seen no one // Who can give me loving like this // The other fellows don't compare // To the right stuff - The Right Stuff, Vanessa Williams

I don't have much of an explanation for this, other than the fact that Dethklok's fame wasn't enough to shake her and yata yata yata idk where i was goin with this😭

[its-a-hil]

answering everything for this ask game

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect? there are. a number of them. flare (clark powell, for homestuck) magilou's theme (motoi sakuraba, for tales of berseria) electricity forecast (inabakumori, really everything by them is just. so good) 14.3 billion years (andrew prahlow, for outer wilds)

cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)? how hard teaching is :/ idk it's difficult to process anything else when im having a fulltime job for the first time in my life -_-

bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home? yes absolutely i need to wear something comfy and soft and unrestrictive so like. leggings and a t shirt. having to wear vaguely formal clothes to work is nice for my self esteem but they are absolutely not home clothes at all

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with? not at the moment but i want to!! new year's resolution is to buy/make a necklace with 30 lunar phases and wear the appropriate one every day in 2024

daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them? i have an older sister, we're extremely different lmao i guess we're both academically inclined and like reading fantasy, but that's like. it. though we are both currently getting our masters degrees from the same university so that's neat

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does? i guess… seeing something that was more beautiful than i expected? that's very vague hold on one time i was walking home from my office hours as a ta after a student had held me late these were evening office hours, so like. it was 2230, i was not dressed for the cold, i was annoyed at the student but but as i was passing a little field of grass, there were little ice crystals on the blades in the light of the streetlamp, as the wind was blowing the grass and i was walking past it the grass glittered i cant think of a better way to describe it but ive never seen anything like it since it completely made my day so yeah. that's my answer

chia ⇢ what’s an inside joke you have with someone else? hm idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i feel like inside jokes usually just become part of my vocabulary

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is? fiction i think it's because im much closer to being good at writing than i am to any other art form so it resonates more with me since i can feel/imagine its creation in a way that i cant for music or visual art also sometimes i read my own past writing and it eats me alive

edelweiss ⇢ how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you? it's associated with my name obv, since it's just a pronunciation guide but it's also associated with my avi edits, which are wonderful and make me feel great joy

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot? oh absolutely also not at all past me and present me both had/have an absurd inability to compartmentalize, a large degree of silliness, and a general love for the world the main difference is that ive… done more things

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again? not quite a movie or a book but. katanagatari. i really liked it but also it is so fucking slow i tried to rewatch it a couple years ago and i couldnt bc it was just so wordy

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired? it's quite easy to tell if im upset or tired i feel idk if theres a difference between them just like. looking at my eyes. also i take pauses when im tired/upset. also my voice is just. god. unsure about a tell for whether im happy though im not very in tune with my emotions to be able to tell that at least with other people if im by myself ill stim and the cadence/type of stim makes my emotional state obvious but who ever sees that

chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts? things that encourage me to do something i want to do but need the motivation for my college friend group does a yearly gift exchange and a couple years ago i wished for earrings as motivation to get my ears pierced (it took me another 9 months but. we still did it girlies !!)

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life? hm. failure? failing a class, or having a relationship break down, or tripping and getting myself seriously injured just. something that reminds me how ubiquitous loss is, that forces my brain to accept the fact that it's okay to not try to be perfect

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless? aranea homestuck!! something about the way that she knew that the game over timeline would break, did her best to avoid it, and everything fell apart anyway the part where she kisses jake and is like "wait why are you freaking out?? i know you like me this was supposed to encourage you" is just. she's doing her fucking best and putting her all into saving the timeline and yet everything she's doing is hurting and she doesn't know why also the part where she snaps and mind controls damaras to smash planets together in a desperate attempt to kill the condesce. so important. love her idk if she even counts as a villain but the story hates her so. it counts for me

nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on? haha… "decorated"... that sure is a word…………

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with? oooooh answer !! god. tales of luminaria was so fucking good!! (this was the trailer theme, and it was honestly the first thing that clued me into the fact that the game would be amazing)

taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about? i guess for a general hypothetical person, i'd tell them how i have a teaching job now, how i have to manage a horrible curriculum that's just. extremely pedagogically unsound i'd also tell them that i went to la over the summer and got to see my 2nd space shuttle orbiter, that i don't yet live somewhere with public transit but that day is growing ever closer and im so excited

[rorah]

I ADORE THE WAY YOU PAINT AND RENDER SO MUCH!! 😭 if its alright to ask, could you please share some tips or tools/tutorials related to painting that have helped you? thank you for sharing your amazing art!! 💕

🥺💖 Thank you so much~ And of course, i would love to (if you don't mind me replying late :'D). Currently, my technique is way too messed up, need to practice and relearn all over again bc i feel like i have developed tons of terrible habits that i need to ge rid off first. But, first thing first. The way you draw and pursue art is your unique language, the way you want to express and the general feelings you want to share. So perhaps my approach may be not so ideal for you, but you'll have the last word on that.

The way I try to approach is by trying to mimic traditional media or the general feel of it at least. So, I usually like to work in one layer as a traditional painting. If it has lots of elements, i separate each element on each layer. I use the pen pressure function a lot with brushes that has this element activated, and that's it. Everything else heavily relays on fundamental knowledge (figure, form, anatomy, color, perspective, etc, things like that) and hand control. I've learned a lot just by watching lots of timelapse videos from several artist, and the process i follow varies tons depending of the clarity of my mind and the concept.

This timelapse video from Shal E. It's a process that's close of what i generally do.... sometimes.

But there's also this one. Honestly, there are tons of methods i've been trying to apply. Digital art is a versatile language it would be so overwhelming for you if i share everything I know. It'd be ideal if i know your current level, the direction you want to give your art, and the way you approach things (in this case, art). If I could remark the skills, you should be focus on to improve, are these:

Observation ability

Understanding ability

These two are linked to one another. The understanding ability will help you to break down the information in your surroundings, and that's how I've been able to digest the timelapse videos or the screenshots process like the previous examples i provided. There are a bunch of good information out there on the internet. I can recommend Marco Bucci for color understanding, Marc brunet for more friendly beginner artist (?), and a bunch tons tbh, i don't wanna overwhelm you, but Sinix, Trend Kaniuga, among many others are big, experienced artists that will provide you valuable information of any art related topic. Even the info you find on tiktok, the short post on twitter or pixiv from Asians, can be a big help. Or you can find all of it on Pinterest. Just be careful with the quality of the info you consume. Didn't nail what you specifically asked for but once again: to help you better i need to know where you are (in terms of art skill level and such). Still, hoping this could help a little.

[tragicomedys]

sage, camellia, chamomile & taro

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

oh this is such an interesting question... i think all mediums of art touch me in different ways, but perhaps the most effective is film/animation because they're visual, auditory, and use storytelling as well. kind of the whole bag. i love both literary and visual forms of art so the fact that film and animation mix those two is kind of perfect. i also imagine stories in my mind played out like a show, as in, i see characters and put them through a story in my mind so i think film and shit is most similar to the way i think. i think thats also why ive always been very drawn to animations specifically, i love how they combine drawing with storytelling, and i wish there was more of a variety in animation styles and stories even tho its been better than before (THANK you spiderverse). specifically i like 2d animation more than 3d, 3d usually has an uncanniness or SOMETHING that im not into (even good ones like the bad guys and big hero six and the mitchells vs the machine), the only 3d animation ive been SUPER into has been spiderverse. whereas i think sooo much 2d animation is beautiful and emotionally effective

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

so when i was a child i was very hostile, pissy, angry. was a very temperamental child and i used to bully my twin brother for fun. so i think i changed a lot from that. i think ive become much more inhibited especially in expressing anger. but when comparing myself to me as a younger teen, i can see many similarities; i was anxious, always felt out of control, always down to meet new people and make friends, intellectualized my problems, etc. and i think i can still do all these things. the biggest change ive gone through since then is that ive overall become more and more accepting of the situation im in, and am willing to wait to become myself, which is something i was extremely upset about kind of all the time when i was younger... ive changed and gotten smarter, but honestly not all that much

chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts?

aw this is cute! honestly i should probably make a wishlist bc i just like it when people get me what i was thinking of getting myself one day... specific makeup, shirts, merch, etc... i also like cute little thoughtful gifts somebody would want me to have, like a unique plushie, keychain, bag, whatever it may be... if the gift is practical or i will physically use it somehow thats even better. so i also like soaps and shit like that from bath n body works or whatever. i think one of my fav things would be getting merch related stuff bc i dont have much merch at all!

taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

:] i would tell them about how i moved a year ago and what ive been up to with college lately probably. maybe some shit ive watched and some new interests. probably how ive been feeling lately if we wanted to get a bit deep. theres been a couple new things in my life recently so ive got a couple things to say...

[endious]

as much as i LOVEEE the idea of being held down and r/ped like that i think i like the concept better as a hypothetical kink scene with a safeword and everything. and i know it’s unrealistic bc we’re talking abt literal killers but..

i want jack to hold me down and breed me no matter how loud i scream, and then pick me up and bring me somewhere safe i can rest and he can patch up the cuts and scratches on my skin.

i wanna feel his claws digging into my throat to shut me up, and then when he’s done i wanna feel his claws running through my hair while he asks if that was good and if i liked it, yk?

oh yeah for sure! i love the idea of being forced to take it all, telling him to stop but he keeps going bcus he doesn’t care abt what you say. but i also like to imagine him picking you up like you’re made of glass and gently cleaning the wounds he littered on your skin. he might enjoy the winces and hisses you make when he cleans the cuts in your body but he also enjoys cleaning you up, it keeps you guessing if he’s a cruel monster or not. falling into a spiral bcus of him and his harsh touches that turn gentle as he carefully holds you with his sharp claws that could easily tear you apart. jack might not understand how you humans emotionally work anymore but maybe he’ll offer a small “are you okay” while stitching up a nasty cut he created earlier, it’s amusing for him to see you move a little closer to him just because he asked about your wellbeing. i loveeee the mind breaking it would cause with any of the killers so i’ll elaborate on two more i enjoy writing

toby loves treating you like youre nothing but a cocksleeve, a walking cumdump for him to use whenever he pleases. it doesnt matter if you say no or “aren’t in the mood” if he wants it he’ll get it. he enjoys how you “hate” him, that fire in your eyes when he’s using your body but when he’s done and decides it’s a rare moment to take care of you— emphasis on care —he is obsessed with the way you falter. your cold expression breaking just the slightest when he kisses the marks and cuts on your skin. a smirk tugging at his lips while brushing a hand over your hair and he knows he has you spinning in a circle trying to guess and understand if he cares about you just the slightest or not. he likes how you lean just a bit into his touch like it wasn’t bruising your soft skin a few minutes ago. slowly you’re molding into the perfect toy for him and all it took was indulging in your silly dream once. give a dog scraps and it’ll come back for more.

jeff is the worse though but maybe i’m being biased rn teehee. he doesn’t care if you literally break while he uses you. it’s for him not you, he’ll laugh and call you stupid if you ever thought he fucked you for your enjoyment. any form of “intimacy” or “aftercare” afterwards is a blessing you may never get. he tugs on your hair a lot while fucking you, probably to the point of nearly ripping it out, and maybe in your dizzy state after he’s finished you’ll feel a cold hand push at your now knotted hair but that’s the only comfort you’ll get. he might even stay the night, a hand wrapped tight around your throat to keep you there not that you could leave regardless. you like to think it’s so he can feel your pulse, that false sense of hope for something better trapping you in a fantasy, leaving you wanting that to be a reality. he’s slowly breaking you down into the perfect doll and all it takes is basic touches that aren’t harmful to your body. it’s enough to make him laugh at how pathetic your standards have dropped but he likes that you’re fighting back less and less, completely washing away the old you until you’re a clean canvas for him to ruin and paint into whatever he desired.

[b2supertiddydroid]

Saw a post I could no longer reblog and it made me ANGRY so fuck it we’re making an opinion post past midnight. First of all let’s just get it out of the way bad praxis is absolutely a thing that exists and can be worse than doing nothing, the stunt with the soup on a Van Gogh is 100% more harm than it could ever be practical benefit bc all it’s accomplished is making people already open to its messaging either distrustful of further action or double down on defending useless bullshit, this is how we get greenwashing. But this isn’t about that, this is about the anti-intellectualism of how you dipshits talk about art. And yes, I’m talking about the Jackson Pollocks and the solid colours on a giant canvas and the banana taped to a wall shit here too, THAT IS ART whether you like it or fuckin not. Art is about intent to evoke emotional and intellectual responses, it has nothing whatsoever to do with the craft to create something or the end product it produces, and the value of being able to see and experience that artwork is in understanding how other people express ideas that are important to them through it. You don’t get to devalue ANY OF IT, I don’t fuckin care if you find it boring nobody is forcing you to look at it. And the entire reason this is so important is bc pissing on abstract and non-depiction based art is BASIC NAZI RHETORIC, the whole point of doing that is to shut down peoples capacity to question cultural norms and status quos through representing their feelings and ideas in forms that deviate from conventional thinking, abstract art is far from inherently revolutionary but scorning a basic form of expression as valueless bc you don’t like what it says is fascist bullshit and it is 100% your responsibility to remove that fucking garbage from your vocabulary. Grow a spine and try to understand art that isn’t good to you, it’s always going to be better than bitching that somebody painted something that isn’t a picture.

[lexstellaris]

Daily Draw - 1/5/23 - Sacred Rebels Oracle (Alana Fairchild)

43 - Come To Life

Not a card I've drawn before, but I do rather love the imagery. She's painting herself in colour, using her own agency to make herself alive. I can't help but see the monkey as an avatar of Djehuty, and the crow/bird as Hekate. I love the detail of the small tufts of grass poking up through the tiles. The butterflies, too, are a common symbol of transformation.

There's a lot of challenge in this card for me, bc I am often good at putting off things I ought to do out of dumb fears my brain has about things not going well, or going too well, so I just don't do them. But at least this card pull has spurred me on to do a couple of things I've been putting off, and it does remind me that I'm the one in charge of my life. If it's shit, well, what are you going to do about that to make it not shit? Sure, some things are outside of my control, but there's still some things I can control, and tbh, even though I did have a bit of a low period today for various reasons *gestures at the world* I still feel good about where I'm going.

I feel good about the routine I'm making, too. My brain doesn't want to push against it. Even though we had ppl over for tea, and maybe I got to my rites later than I would have liked, I still did them. I wanted to do them. And that, to me, is a sign I've got this working right.

For so long over the past four years, I've often felt so disconnected from my gods and my practice. And to feel that connection again? To feel daily rites finally come easy to me again after so many years of it just failing on me? That's a good feeling. Fandom can keep me going, but the gods are what truly nourish me.

And this card, like so many things in my life right now, is just poking at me to Do The Things. bc sometimes I do need poking. But this card in particular talks about letting everything just flow, and expressing myself through journalling or other creative expressions. To let the emotions be felt. And I def think that's part of why I wanted to do my daily draws this way. To actually sit down and write out my own thoughts and reflections on the cards and their meanings, bc I am so frequently shit at this kind of thing on my own. Ask me to journal my feels, and I won't be able to manage it. But having a prompt in the form of a card is definitely the framework I needed. And being able to just share these on tumblr as well makes it easy. I don't need a fancy notebook. Don't need to fret about what happens when I fill up a notebook and where to store them. Just post here, and write, and let everything flow out as it wants to.

The oracle finishes with this:

"The message of this card is 'Be alive!" Don't imagine you can go back to sleep. You are too awake for that now. There is no falling back into odl ways. If you do so, it will be short lived and won't feel the same as it used to. You may grieve this. You will certainly (eventually) celebrate it. You have crossed the threshold from an old way of being in an old life and try as you might, you cannot return. It is better to let it go. Grieve if needs be, celebrate if needs be or do both and move on into thei moment. Ther eis another adventure awaiting you now. You need a deeper connection to your own instincts, body, feelings, and intuitions so that you can receive this new calling. You can trust in it, too. Embrace it and it will embrace you."

And like, if that doesn't sum up the entirety of where I am now, well. I do feel this has been in progress since the pandemic hit, though. It brought on necessary changes that I'd been too scared to adopt or to try for, things that I needed to be forced into doing. It's why I call myself Lex now. I'd grown out of Sasha. They served me well for a very long time, but it's not who I am anymore.

And I keep thinking of a line I wrote in a transfic a while ago, "I don't know how to be that version of me yet." bc that's still so true for me. I'm in this odd place of knowing, and not knowing, and fighting against barriers not of my own making that make it difficult for me to really thrive. I don't know how to be me yet. But I can't go back. I am who I am now, and that's just how things are.

And I do feel that. I feel those urges to Do Things and push and get myself unstuck. It just sometimes feels like the hardest thing in the world to do. Maybe, with time, it won't feel so hard. idk.

(also that transfic linked about is like, allllll my pandemic gender feels compressed into like 4k words of fic about block game men so. *throws hands up*) (I also think it's arguably one of the best things I've ever written)

[higheverlost]

my brain is still pretty sticky today. i’m taking a little bit of a caffeine break to try & force reset my sleeping schedule, but i’m going to try & write today. i’ve got some im’s to respond to after i shower & then i am going to try & chip away at my drafts!

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

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

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

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

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

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

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

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

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

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

But something kept holding her back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“I see,” she mused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response came only seconds later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really good job, kiddos.

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

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Fans took notice and loved it.

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

The fans loved that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to celebrate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

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

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

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

“What a dirtbag.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Noted.”

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

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

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

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

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

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

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

“Rude-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was her best friend.

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

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

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, love.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

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

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

He was always in hers.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

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

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

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

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

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

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

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

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

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

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

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She could never say no to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

There he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t remember anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a question, princess.”

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

“What’s so funny?”

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

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

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

“You're cruel.”

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

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

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

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

“But why Harry’s?”

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither do I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[forever-rogue]

A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.

But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin

Have a great day love!🤍

A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

PART 2

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”

“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”

“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”

“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”

“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”

“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”

“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”

“Everyone’s going to be there?”

“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”

“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”

“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”

“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”

“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”

“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.

“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”

“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.

“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.

“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”

“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”

“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”

“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.

“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.

It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.

“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”

She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.

A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”

“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”

“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”

“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”

“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”

“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”

“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”

“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[diorsbrando]

this song has been on repeat in my brain and the lyric “feels just like a dream, the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen” reminds me of chifuyu so i wanted to write a lil sum about my sweet boy <333

cw! — all characters mentioned are aged up to 18+. reader is a college student & chifuyu is in toman. black!fem!reader who is thick! fluff and comfort, (self-indulgent bc im feeling a little sad). sort of suggestive but not really. chifuyu is just so in love <33

wc — 1.5k

chifuyu had never felt so glad to hear your voice. recently, your replies in general had been lacking and although he didn’t want to bother you with excessive inquiries in the form of texts and face time calls, each passing day left chifuyu more tense and antsy then the last. he felt like he could finally breathe easier one chilly evening when he felt his phone buzz and saw your name pop up on his screen.

an unstoppable smile curled at his lips at your meek tone, asking him to come over because “i need you here ‘fuyu”. his heart beat was erratic in his lean chest, a fire in the pit of his belly ignited and his limbs began to moved sporadically on their own, in an attempt to get on his motorcycle fast enough. 

you needed him? a soft chuckle erupted from his throat. if you could hear his thoughts that were saturated with you, if it was possible to hear just how fast and hard the muscle in his chest was pounding, you’d come to realize it was actually the other way around. baji and takemichi, who were with him at the time, watched chifuyu with confused expressions speed away on his bike mid-conversation, without so much as a ‘see you later’.

he just couldn’t wait to see you, to hold you in his arms, to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck and inhale your natural aroma that he was hopelessly addicted to.

i get to see my pretty girlfriend was a mantra that flooded his mind as he got closer to your apartment complex, as he got in the elevator, as he made it to your floor, and when you greeted him with tired eyes and a loving smile.

gripping the takeout he decided to pick up on the way here, every nerve and vein in his body were overflowing with a giddy excitement, that he’d finally get to fulfill the desires he’s been fantasizing about for the past week. seven days prior was the last time he saw you, and seven days was too long for chifuyu.

it constantly amazed him how you managed to look beautiful with so little effort. on your chest you wore a plain white oversized shirt, his bottom lip becoming caged in between his teeth when his eyes flickered to the gold-plated necklace that sat prettily around your neck, his surname matsuno glimmering right back at him. your thick thighs were hugged by dark grey biker shorts, and your feet clad in white fuzzy socks. your braided, beaded hair —which quickly became chifuyu’s favorite style on you—sat on top of your head in a messy bun.

the blonde’s eyes continued to lazily trail up and down your figure, a wolfish grin appeared on his pretty face when he noticed you avert your gaze from his out of nervousness. even though the two of you have been together for over a year, it still felt like something fresh, something brand new and awkward sometimes, as if the two of you were junior high kids with hopeless crushes on the other. it was filled intertwining pinkies, cheeky expressions, and promises of loving each other unconditionally painting your lips when they were sealed in a kiss.

he swears that you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he’s so lucky to have scored you. he still wasn’t able to wrap his head around the fact that someone as beautiful as you saying that you needed him, someone who has fucked up and is fucked up, someone who’s literally in a criminal gang that’s only grows larger and more notorious, who does dangerous things and deals with dangerous people— if chifuyu hadn’t known any better, he would have thought he was dreaming.

finally, he took a step forward, so that your chests were brushing each other’s. after getting a closer look at you, he saw something despondent swam in your irises and it made his dark brows slightly crease in worry, but he’d leave it alone until you were ready to tell him.

with a tilt of his head and lopsided smile, he greeted you in a tone that sounded sensual and breathless. because you effortlessly took it away, every single time. “hey princess. i got you food, figured you haven’t eaten yet and that you were hungry.”

his kind gesture and lovestruck gaze was enough to make your heart swell and burst, so much that you could cry. this week had been awfully stressful and you missed your boyfriend so much.

“hi ‘fuyu,” you responded in that same small voice you had over the phone. “thank you so much for—AHH! chifuyu?!” you were in the middle of thanking him for going out of his way to buy the food when suddenly you felt your feet leave the floor and arms firmly grasp your waist.

chifuyu had stepped in the doorway and, completely abandoning the food, scooped you up from the backs of your thighs and rested you just above his pelvis. you could feel his toned abdomen through the layers of clothes that separated your skin. reflexively, your legs wrapped his waist to prevent yourself from slipping.

anxiety always bloomed at the bottom of your gut whenever he literally swept you off your feet, constantly fearing that you were too heavy for him, but all that got you was a slap on your ass cheek and a kiss on your neck, him mumbling a “i’ve gotten much stronger baby, relax”. and that was enough to make your stomach erupt in butterflies and subdue your insecurities.

chifuyu went ahead and placed endless kisses on your neck, exposed collar and cheeks, purposely avoiding your lips for whatever reason. probably just to be a damn tease. 

“you missed a spot,” you commented quietly. you craved the feel of his soft lips, more than anything right now, and he was just stringing you along because he loved that pretty pout on your lips. he wanted to kiss it out of existence. and he would. over and over again. 

with a quiet chuckle, he wordlessly sat you on the counter in your kitchen and let his hands glide themselves from your plush ass, up your curves, your neck, and finally up to your cheeks that were increasing in temperature every passing minute. chifuyu always had this effect on you. 

with a sigh of finality, your lips connected with your boyfriend’s, and you immediately seemed to mold with his touch, bodies coming so close they might as well have been one. it started off sweet and gentle, and increasingly became more passionate, wet, pink tongues soon added into the mix, hands rubbing, squeezing and caressing every area of skin they could reach, with yours resting on his shoulders, and his back on your ass, as if they belonged there.

“missed you pretty girl. so much.” he murmured in between wet kisses, unfortunately parting from your lips to transition to the corner of your mouth, then to your jaw, then gradually moving down the column of your neck, on a mission to leave love marks in their wake. the ones from last time have faded away.

a gasp escaped your throat when you felt him nibble on your brown skin, each grazing of his teeth more ardent than the one that came before it. he beamed smugly against the crook of your neck. his hands groped and massaged the flesh of your ass slowly, making you whine lowly and fidget against his hold. he knew how much you liked when he did this.

chifuyu had a one track mind at this point. he was dead set on making up for lost time from the past week by leaving every trace of him along your gorgeous body. 

“i missed you more ‘fuyu.” you finally whispered back, threading your fingers within his hair.

after pulled out a few more small gasps from you, he took a small step so he could look you in your eyes again and cup your cheeks. “how you feeling baby? is everything okay?” he told himself he wouldn’t pry, but he just, couldn’t help it when it came to you.

he knew you too well. much too well.

“i—” you paused, trying to find the right words, “this week has just been a lot. you know my midterms were this week, so i’ve just been on a grind trying to prepare for them. i’m just really burnt out and tired.” 

chifuyu nodded his head, taking in every word you uttered. “c’mon baby, i got some food and you can tell me all about it. you made it through the week and i’m so proud of you.”

you weren’t sure why, but you felt your eyes get blurry at his praise and reassurance. smiling again, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he picked you up again, going to retrieve the food he had left near the door, before making his way to your living room to dig into the meal that was probably cold by now.

he didn’t even have to hold on to your thighs to support you because of how tightly your arms and legs clung to him. peering down at you he couldn’t help but kiss your cheek again. you were like a big baby sometimes. 

but he loved it, and he loved you. you were his big baby.

a/n— this was a little longer than i expected but i just...im a sucker for chifuyu and an even BIGGER sucker for soft scenarios likes this 🥺🥺🥺 i needed this sm. pls excuse any errors if present!

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[thedandelion-writer]

hello hello! i luv ur blog omg <3

if its not toooo much trouble.. could u do some hcs for ganyu, albedo, and hu tao comforting their partner after a bad day? (also if ur ok with it a platonic one for klee comforting her sibling figure >>)

i. got a concussion from getting hit with a baseball today NAHSHSH so i am Not having a great time and just. wanted some of my favs bein soft bc i love them quite a lot <33 thank u for ur time! much love <333

❝bad days❞

Pairings: Ganyu x gn!reader, Albedo x gn!reader, Hu Tao x gn!readee, Klee x platonic!sibling figure

A/N: Woah- I hope you're okay?? And it's no trouble at all, I made sure to include lots of fluff for you, so that it'll made today at least a little better! Take care of yourself please anon >-<

Ganyu would notice your mood right away

Whether you'd show it subtly or not

The thing is, she's not entirely sure what to do

Although for her, comforting > cheering up

She'd ask if you wanted to talk about it, and would actually listen without complaint even if you ranted for hours on end, work could come later when her s/o is in distress

Your head on her lap, as you told her everything that went wrong, Ganyu's fingers delicately patting your head all the while

After you let it all out, you admitedly felt a lot better

"Sleeping always helps," she'd suggest.

And you two would just take a nap together in the afternoon sunlight

This was if you were emotionally or even mentally down. If you were somehow hurt phyisically she'd fuss over you all day, though trying not to ask too many questions for fear of being annoying

Ganyu would sort of look like she had something to say, but didn't know how to express it

She then made sure to get a name out of you in the most un-suspiscious way as possible so she could tax the hell out of them later (if it was a monster, let's just say they'd be sent right back to the ice age)

Albedo, often fixated on his experiments, would realistically not know about your horrible day until you told him about it

"What happened?" or "What's wrong starlight?" would probably be his go-to phrases

He's would be in between comforting and cheering up, because his way of doing one would more or less result in the other

"I saw some lovely terrain earlier while painting, would you like to go with me to see it once more?"

And of course you don't turn down the offer. Pretty things always helped to lift moods and just seeing him after a crappy day had helped you feel better

Attempting to take your mind off things, Albedo would talk about any recent experiments he thought were interesting, or anything he was particularly proud of to discover

You could talk to him as well if you wanted to, he'd lend you an ear anytime, but I feel like Albedo's response to things would be way too logical leaving you a little confused at times

Before leaving to return back to the city, he hands you a leather bound book.

Inside it were pages upon pages filled with pressed flowers, and even leaves that you don't normally see.

"They're non-toxic," he assured you, just in case you were wondering. "I have been meaning to give this to you, today gave me the perfect opportunity."

You beamed in thanks, already forgetting what was it that brought you down earlier.

Another scenario would be that you somehow got hurt, and that was why you're mood was less than stellar

Anybody who hurt you would be turned to dust think twice about hurting the chief alchemist's lover next time

Hu Tao doesn't want you to dwell on the fact you had a bad day

Cheering up >>>> Comforting

"Bad days are normal! What counts is what you do about it after. When working in the business of death, I know lots of ways to lift one's gloom~"

She'll take you to either prank people with her, laughing like idiots afterwards

Or catching butterflies!

Such frivolous activities would surely help

"Let's see who can catch the most butterflies!" Hu Tao grinned, straightening her hat in form of a challenging gesture.

"Ohh you're on," you returned, playfully sticking out your tongue.

She planned on letting you win, but didn't have to because you did it all on your own

When your legs started getting tired, and your lungs out of breath, you both sat atop the grassy plain to set the butterflies free, admiring their colorful wings sparkling against the sun

Looking at your smile, Hu Tao triumphantly said,"see, I told you I could turn your frown upside down!"

For the physically hurt part, medicine had never been her forte

But any enemies who dared touch you would be incinerated into ash, and any human who did would earn a free coffin from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor ^^

Klee hated seeing you upset

In fact, she hated it so much she made it a mission to cheer you up

As someone early into her years, she always wondered what it was that made grown ups sometimes...unsmiley

With Jean's permission, and promising not to bomb anything and anyone, she practically dragged you out to bury some newfound treasure

She let you pick the spots and everything <3

It was really hard for the after-effects of a bad day linger after spending time with a literal ball of sunshine

If it was an injury that tainted you mood, then Klee would help you dress them with surprisingly gentle hands

"When I went with Master Jean to Liyue, I met this girl named Qiqi! She always said to clean the wound first...then bandage it," she stuck her tongue out in concentration.

And although the wrappings were sloppy, it was the thought that counted.

"Then we kiss the boo boo better!"

That definitely made the pain go away

You thanked the archons for such a sweet little sister

Oh and of course, she'd totally bomb the bad guys who caused you any pain

What? Don't look at her like that, Jean allowed it!