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#there were a thousand other things I could have done tonight and I chose to do this lol
weatheringtea · 2 years
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WIP Al’s going somewhere...... My brain turned off before I could clean up his legs lol.  Imagine them *wiggles fingers*
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evansbby · 2 months
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you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…
❃▹or ❃▹
sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.
{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}
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A. Levinson has requested a private chat.
The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.
Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:
A. Levinson donated $500.
You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…
The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.
A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.
Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.
You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.
“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”
“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”
“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”
He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”
You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.
“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.
But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?!?
You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”
“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…
“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”
And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…
“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”
You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”
“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”
Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?
The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.
A. Levinson donated $600.
“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”
You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”
A. Levinson donated $800.
“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”
You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?
And why did you not hate it at all?
Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.
“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”
“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.
“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”
“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.
“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”
Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.
“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”
“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.
“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”
“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”
“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”
You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.
You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.
“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.
“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”
A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.
“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.
“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”
“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.
You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.
Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.
“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.
“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”
Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.
You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.
“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”
“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”
He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”
“Yeah, daddy…”
Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.
“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”
The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!
“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…
“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.
“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…
“Sweetheart? You with me?”
“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”
“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”
Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??
“Send it to me. Now.”
You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.
“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”
Your heart sinks. Was this it?
“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”
Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.
“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.
“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.
“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.
“I… I don’t know… I—”
He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”
“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.
“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”
Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.
“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“
Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.
“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”
“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.
“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”
“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!
“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”
“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”
You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.
“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-
"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”
You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”
“You still dumbed out, honey?”
You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…
“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”
You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.
“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”
“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.
“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”
You nod dumbly.
“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”
“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”
“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”
“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.
“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”
“Yes! Please, yes!”
“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”
THE END.
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Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS
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hlficlibrary · 8 months
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The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.
🩷 Only Reason by @letsjustsee {NR, 5k}
“We are so lucky to have with us one of the leading experts on beekeeping in the modern age, Dr. Louis Draper.” No. No, no, no… “I know I speak for many of us when I say that this man’s books have guided our practice, or helped us get started,” Harry continued, and Louis watched as the crowd nodded their heads in agreement. Oh shit. No. What? No. But then Harry was gesturing towards him, saying “Dr. Draper?” into the microphone, the crowd was applauding, and Louis found himself walking up the stairs to the stage.
Or, Louis is most definitely smitten with Harry from the second he sees him, but he is also most definitely not the world's foremost expert on beekeeping. He decides to roll with it anyway.
🩷 Unplant by @hellolovers13 {M, 4k}
Please do not disturb my plant She needs 2 hours of sunlight a day and I live in a sunless flat I’ll be back to collect her soon Thank you and stay well.
or Louis should've looked where he was going, then he wouldn't have to desperately try to save a little flower now.
🩷 Validation by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}
“Hey, how are you?” Harry asked. He’d found that sometimes just a smile and a kind face was all that was needed to brighten someone’s day.
“Oh, uhm. I’m alright. Can you validate me?”
Harry chuckled inwardly, but decided to go ahead and take him literally.
Or the one where Harry worked in a parking garage and he totally didn’t mean for this, the whole validation of people as well as their parking tickets, to become a thing. It just kinda...did.
🩷 more than that by @nouies {NR, 3k}
Harry looks for the best bread in France. He finds Louis.
🩷 an honest mistake by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 2k}
“You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him.
Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.
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𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓎 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑀𝑒
This is a writing gift for a friend of mine. This is a male!reader/Alastor smut one shot :)
‎‎‧₊˚✧[Thank you to my wonderful editor @safety-pin-angel-wings, @the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes]✧˚₊‧
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The problem with Alastor was that he was beautiful and he knew it; Alastor did not need to ask, nor beg, because he knew, deep down , that he would achieve what he desired eventually. If he waited you out, if he arched his body in the right way and made the right noises, he would attain those desires.
It was a long con that he’d play, one that would start from the second he woke up and wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted.  
You could always tell when he was having one of those days. Alastor had always made it a point to rise from the world of slumber before you; usually up and dressed before you had even recognised that a new day had begun— but not on days like today . On days like today, he’d remain asleep in your embrace, allowing you to awaken to the feeling of him squirming in your arms. He’d allow you to kiss down his back while he pressed his posterior flush against your hardening cock, all before announcing it was really time to be up! 
It would do no good for both of you to get a reputation for being lazy . 
You’d known then, he was playing that little game of his, expecting that you play along lest he have a tantrum. He’d dress himself slowly, never giving you the satisfaction of looking at you , but you’d know he was expecting you to watch him appreciatively, and you would . Not necessarily because it was what he wanted — despite you always giving him what he desired — but rather because it was impossible to look away. He was just divinely beautiful, and he knew it.  
Breakfast would be an entire ordeal because no matter what you did , you obviously were not paying enough attention to him. You were not to talk to others at breakfast; you were not to touch others at breakfast, because all of your attention was to be on him and him alone. Some days you’d deny him his insane demands, because they were simply that: insane . But not today; today you kept your eyes trained on him, trained on his sharp teeth as he tore through his breakfast. He’d tilt his neck in that way; the way that said that tonight he wanted you to break him, but not yet . 
He wanted to play first.  
He wasn’t beautiful in the way some of your previous lovers were; pretty little things that crawled on the floor for your attention. Small things, cute things , creatures that were designed to be on their knees; no , Alastor was beautiful in a completely different way. He was beautiful in that he was raw ; he was a wild animal that couldn’t be caged, should never be caged , but when he chose to sit on his knees for you because he wanted to, nothing could ever compare. 
You attempted to get work done in the office you shared with Charlie. She had wonderful ideas— lovely ideas, really— but none of them were particularly financially conscious. She was so used to Daddy’s support that she didn’t always think to remember that when running a business, there were limitations . You were trying to help her sort these finances out, but Alastor craved attention. He’d come to stand behind you to peer down at what you were reading. 
“This looks terribly dull, dear.” He’d informed you, and he wasn’t wrong. It was incredibly dull, but sometimes dull was necessary . You wouldn’t try to convince him of that though, not only because it simply wouldn’t work, but because his hands had found their way up to your shoulders. Squeezing at the tense muscles, pulling at it to loosen his canvas. He liked to hear your little moans and groans, and so you let him , if only so he’d continue. “I’d hate to take you away from your work . I know how important it is to keep to one’s responsibilities,” He’d purr in your ear, and just like that, he was gone with a wisp of shadows again.
Perhaps the worst torment of all was his bloody shadow . The thing followed you throughout the day; just because he wanted to pretend this wasn’t about him wanting attention, didn't mean his shadow was playing along . The creature would follow you wherever you went, and as soon as you found a place to relax it would situate itself on its knees, almost mocking you. Some days you wondered if Alastor did it on purpose, enticing the shadow to show what Alastor wanted but refused to act upon . 
Somehow you made it through the day, made it through the entire day without choking him whilst he danced around you, quite happy with his little game . 
As soon as night fell, you escorted him back to the entry of the room you shared, pinning him against it without a second thought. He was laughing— giggling almost— with glee, joy and mischief. He had won, and you lost , and that was exactly how he liked his games to go.
You had let him win every time though, you’d let him win for an eternity if he kept laughing just like that . It was a beautiful sound, a sound so few had the pleasure of hearing, and you would play his games for the rest of your existence if he continued to give it to you. Pushing him into the room, you pulled at his clothes, the clothes he always wore that were far too many layers for your liking . You kissed every uncovered scar that was revealed, old and new , all while he reached up to run his hands through your hair, tugging tightly.
.
Alastor wanted to kneel, but he’d make you force him first. 
“So impatient.” He purred underneath you as you manhandled him onto the bed. 
He was a little shit, and he knew he as such, but that little fact was irrelevant, because he was all yours . 
You stripped quickly, eager to have your hands back on his beautiful, scarred body as he watched you hungrily whilst you undressed. It never took you half as long to get rid of your own clothes as it did to get rid of his; the man, again , was always wearing far too many layers. 
Kneeling on the bed beside him, you pressed kisses down his neck and his chest, forcing him to evoke soft little bleating sounds while he pressed his ears against the base of his skull. He, personally , hated the sounds that echoed through his larynx as you tickled his skin, but you were obsessed with those sounds , and sometimes, on a good day , he’d let you hear them without hesitation. Kissing down his happy trail, you enjoyed his trembling body that laid beneath yours. 
Beautiful. He was simply, yet uniquely beautiful. 
Taking his cock into your mouth slowly,  he let out a deep groan as he called out your name, the pretty tone of his voice escaping the muscle of his tongue. Slowly, you began to take him deeper into the depths of your mouth, holding down his hips with such force he couldn’t thrust himself into the wetness of your cavern forcing him to groan in frustration . 
This was your favourite part of the game. He'd had his fun, so now it was your turn. Echoing a whine, Alastor attempted to fight you weakly, allowing you to swirl your tongue around his cock while he rumbled out the most beautiful of sounds. You continued to play with him, to enjoy his writhing form beneath you , until he’d finally beg. “ Please .” He’d beg so prettily, prettier than one would think, could even believe was possible to come out of a creature such as he. 
You’d allow him the pleasure of releasing his hips, permitting him to grab onto your hair to force his cock down your throat. He thrust into you like a wild animal, chasing for that high he sought out oh so desperately and you let him. He made the most beautiful noises, using your throat for his pleasure as his body shook in the most delicious of ways when you looked up at him with your eyes full of unushered tears, fighting to breathe through your nose. 
That was what did him in, what always did him in; you choking on his thickened cock . “ Mine ,” He growled as you gently ran your palm up and down his wounded thighs, reminding him you were here for him . He pushed the top of your head down, forcing your nose to tickle the base of his pelvis bone before thrusting up, letting out a guttural groan as he released his peak down the innards of your oesophagus. Drinking it all up— just as you always did — you were eager to consume all of him before his clawed talons would release you; allowing you to look up at him, the most beautiful creature in the world. He covered his pretty face with his hands, hiding from you, and you would allow him to, for now ; only because you weren’t done with him yet . You pushed the bottom of his thighs up before placing your lips against them repeatedly. “No more. ” He’d whine on deaf ears as you ignored him.
Whispering sweet praises into his skin, because he needed to hear them , because he was more insecure than he’d ever let people know ; you licked against his hole, forcing a gasp to escape his pretty lips as he reached up to pull at his own hair; you couldn’t help but chuckle.
He was precious. He was perfect, and you’d burn the world down for him. 
You told him to beg for you, to never stop begging for you, and he made good on his promise. “ Don’t stop; never stop; touch me .” It was a compliment from the Radio Demon, to be begged to touch him, to invade his personal barriers when so few could, and you would never let him down. Pushing your tongue inside him, you wiggled the muscle deep inside him as his hips naturally gyrated down onto your face. He was beautiful , perfect , and smelled intoxicating. 
Prying his ass cheeks further apart, eager to explore him deeper while he moaned. 
You pulled away, looking up to see his flushed face and blown-out eyes. Giving him a knowing look, you told him, relayed to him that he was beautiful , a specimen like no other, but you knew deep down that he didn’t believe a word that left your lips— not truly . 
Climbing on top of him, you pressed a singular finger against his now-wet hole before placing your lips against his own. His sharp teeth scraping against the kiss as his overwhelmed innards forced him to crave to hurt you; and you permitted him to do as such, because of his undoubtful beauty. Groaning as his sharpened teeth bit down onto your bottom lip, he drew blood from your pierced skin, moaning so pretty at the taste of your natural essence.
Rocking his hips into your finger, his claws scratched with depth down your back, forcing you to hiss in pain. “I’m not some delicate damsel; give me more .” He demanded, never letting you play the way you wished, slowly opening his body to you the way you desired; he wanted it hard and fast, and you’ve never been in the practice of denying him.
Adding another finger, you stretched him slowly before adding a third, forcing him to scream out in pain, throwing his head back in the process before moaning out in pleasure. You knew he wanted you to hurt him more , but he wouldn’t be happy if he lost the ability to walk tomorrow. “You’re a whore.” He spat, but you know he didn’t mean such a sentence. 
“I love you,” you said to him softly. Letting him know, understand that you forgave him, that you forgive him for the horrible things he says and does, and after it all; he’s still worthy of your love, whether he wants to believe it or not.  
“I hate you.” He spat, and you tried not to laugh. 
Pulling your fingers out, he uttered a breaking and displeased moan, almost in a whimper. “I still love you.” You told him. 
Gripping your cock, you pressed the head of your length against his entrance before pushing forward, forcing him to let out a mixture of pleasure and pain in a scream whilst his legs wrapped around your waist. “ You love me? ” He asked, his claws raking down your back before you nodded your head, struggling to concentrate on his words as you continued to push yourself into him inch by inch. Sitting up, he reached for you with desperate hands, digging his claws into your back so he could breathe into your ear. “Then fuck me .” He snarled.
It was as if he had released the beast out of the cage. Pinning his arms to the bed, you began to thrust wildly , forcing him to shout, to scream in that wonderful tone of his. Keeping his legs wrapped around your waist, meeting your thrusts with an angry passion; you finally found it; that perfect spot deep inside him that turned him into a mess. His entire body shook in routine as you hit it over and over again, his legs becoming shaky as he begged for more incoherently. 
Releasing his arms, you grabbed the sharp features of his face before pressing a harsh kiss against his lips. Groaning into your mouth, he reached up to wrap his fingers around the back of your head, pulling you in closer. “ I’m in love with you ,” You whisper against his lips, breaking him in the process.
“ Please ,” he begged, so prettily, “ I need more. ” You reached down to grip his heavy cock; the phallic organ pulsing in your hand as you began to slowly stroke him softly, echoing beautiful whimpers and whines out of him, his posterior clenching down on your own thick cock. 
“ Cum for me, love . ” You commanded, evoking a groan from him as he thrust up into your grip; his cum spurting all over your hand.  
Rolling his eyes back, he collapsed into the bed. His body bounced off the mattress as his claws retracted so his arms can fall along with him; a sight that was so fucking beautiful; it sent you over the edge.  
Grabbing his hips, you harshly thrust forward to cum as far and as deep as you can, forcing every part of his innards to be painted white with your heavy load. 
“ Maybe I love you a little bit. ” He whispered into your chest as you collapsed on top of him, only for you to grunt in response. “ And if you tell anyone, I’ll fucking gut you. ” You chuckled before rolling off of him, pulling him on top of you, forcing him to sit still on your cock. 
“ I don’t care if you love me or if you don’t; I love you. ” You spoke honestly with him, evoking a sigh to splutter through his throat before rolling his hips back onto your cock gently, a much softer ride as he lulled through post-orgasm bliss. 
After he was done with you, you’d give him a bath; before you laid in the comfort of your bed together , but for now, you’d let him have this . 
The threat looms high over your heads, the angels are coming and there’s not a lot you can do to protect him. You wonder how far you’d go to keep him like this, your beautiful buck with his cruel words and haughty expression. 
You decide to the ends of the universe, the end of everything; you’d fight God himself to keep Alastor right here, making those pretty noises.
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daegudrama · 1 year
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Daegudrama’s Spicy Festa Special D-1
Title: Lucky Night
Pairing: Reader/Min Yoongi
Summary: Reader gets a very special night with Min Yoongi after a BTS concert where they learn more than they could ever dream of.
Word Count: 3753 words
Being escorted into Min Yoongi’s hotel room was the last thing you possibly thought would happen when you woke up this morning. Of course, you’ve let yourself imagine it might happen even if you knew it was a completely delusional thought. The security guard caught up to you as you were trying to leave your floor seat and you were terrified you’d done something wrong. What other reason would they have to be coming up to you randomly. 
In reality they told you one of the members wanted to see you and one of BTS’ staff members drove you straight to their hotel. Maybe your instincts weren’t working correctly because that sounds so incredibly shady, but now you are here standing in front of his door. He opens the door with a shy smile stepping back to let you in before shutting the door. 
“Hi.” You say meekly not believing that the man you’ve idolized for the last nine years is standing in front of you. 
Yoongi has removed his makeup and seems quite relaxed despite the fact that he’s just invited a super fan into his hotel. You suppose he doesn’t have that much to worry about considering you signed a thick stack of paperwork on the ride here. A stack of paper that could ruin your entire life if you let anything that happens here get out.
He seems a lot taller standing right in front of you then he did on stage or in videos. Yoongi’s hair is wet and pushed off his forehead like he might have just gotten out of the shower. He’s wearing a black shirt with navy blue cotton shorts. Overall he seems very comfortable when you are holding in a scream. 
“So glad to finally meet you.” He says, leading you towards a sofa a few feet away from the bed. He sits on the couch motioning for you to join him. When you don’t respond, with a confused look on your face, he continues.  “I’ve seen a lot of your tweets.”
Your eyes widen as your face heats up thinking of all the not so suitable for work things you’ve said on your account. You sit on the edge of the couch crossing your ankles. How many tweets has he seen? And which ones? Which selfies did he see that made him recognize you in the crowd? He obviously wasn’t bothered if he still wanted to meet you despite what you’ve said about his hands. You can’t help but feel like you should apologize. 
“I’m so sorry.” You rush to apologize and he laughs showing off his gummy smile that looks a thousand times better in person than it ever has on the screen. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He puts a finger under your chin guiding your eyes to his. Your heart is racing in your chest wildly. “How could I be mad when someone as pretty as you wants me?”
A choked sound leaves your throat and he backs away like he thinks maybe he said something to upset you. All the girls in the world he could have and he chose you. Part of you doesn’t even care if he’s done this to hundreds of other girls around the world. Tonight he chose you to be by his side. 
You come closer to Yoongi on the couch testing how far he’ll let you go. He doesn’t stop you even when your body is pressed against his side. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls your face closer with his other hand. With his face mere inches from yours he pauses looking from your eyes to your lips several times. You take the plunge, closing the distance and kissing your bias. 
There is an eruption in your stomach like you’ve never felt before. It’s like butterflies you’ve had before intensified by a thousand. Yoongi’s lips are silky soft against yours and he tastes like mint. The man kissing you shifts his body reaching for your thigh and pulling it so you are straddling him. You gasp but happily oblige while you continue to kiss him, tongue slipping into his mouth. He rests his hands on the strip of bare skin between the top of your skirt and the bottom of your tank top. Yoongi pulls away from the kiss with your lip between his teeth and a soft moan falls from your mouth.
You try to hide embarrassed that you just made that sound from just kissing him. Yoongi has other plans and flips you onto your back on the couch. He hovers over you with half lidded eyes and his chain swinging in your face. You don’t think you’ve seen anything sexier in your whole life. 
“Don’t be embarrassed, YN.” He leans in to kiss your exposed collarbone. “You obviously know what you want.”
He sucks harshly at your collarbone leaving a purple mark just above your ‘moonchild’ tattoo almost like he’s claiming his territory. He moves further down the couch leaving a trail of kisses. Yoongi spends a minute kissing your thighs sending a shiver up your spine. With his hand on the edge of your pleated black skirt he pauses. 
“Please.” Is all you can muster without your voice cracking.
It’s at that moment you remember the joke you made with your twitter mutuals, but it’s already too late.Your heart drops to your stomach and you want to run away. He’s already seen your panties and a smirk forms on his lips. You cover your face wishing you could disappear. This is not a funny joke. There was no world in which you thought this could ever happen or you would’ve worn something sexy. 
“Should I call Hobi?” Yoongi asks, examining the Mang printed on the front of your purple thong. He touches the fabric with his index finger like he wants to make sure it's real. You think you might explode just from that light touch alone. You feel like some kind of virgin again. “Do we sell these?”
“I made them myself as a joke.” You say your voice is muffled by your hands. “I never thought anyone would see them. Especially not you.”
He pushes your skirt up before placing a light hand on your wrist to pull your hands away from your face. There is a genuine smile on his face that is usually reserved for his members. He locks eyes with you while he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and slowly slides them off. A soft groan falls from his lips as he looks at your pussy already wet in anticipation. He tucks your panties into the pocket of his shorts before dipping his head down to lick your cunt.  
You gasp not believing that this is really happening. Reading about this a thousand times has not prepared you for how good his tongue feels swirling around your folds. Quiet noises that you can’t control are leaving your lips. He is slow, seemingly enjoying himself. He lifts you sliding his hands under you to grasp your ass cheeks with his strong hands. Yoongi pushes his tongue into a point bringing a new sensation. You grab his long hair when he puts his tongue inside you. He removes his right hand from underneath and quickly replaces his tongue with a long skilled finger.
“You sound so pretty.” He says curling his finger inside of you drawing another gasp from your mouth.
He adds another finger stretching you as he fucks his fingers into you. He sucks your clit into his mouth drawing patterns with his tongue until you can hardly stand another moment of it. 
“Yoongi, can I please suck your cock?”
He sits up pulling his fingers out and spreading his legs. Yoongi looks around for a moment before getting up and retrieving a pillow from the bed. On the way over he loses his clothes and your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. You sit up eyeing him as he walks back towards you. Somehow in all the times you’ve imagined your bias naked, you’ve never been able to capture the full beauty of the sight before you. 
Your eyes are immediately drawn to the small 7 tattoo right over his heart. You knew your prediction was right and you are livid that you can’t tell your mutuals. The funny thing is you could tell them everything that happened and they would probably just tell you to take a trip to the Boraward. 
Secondly, your eyes trail to his already hard cock. His dick is thicker than you thought it would be, not that you’ve spent that much time thinking about it. Yoongi sits on the couch setting the pillow at his feet before he spreads his legs. Before he can change his mind you take your place on your knees in front of him. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to give the vacuum seal double hand twist samsung spin cycle triple decker pecker wrecker gluck gluck glizzy gawk gawk combo–”
Your lips cut off his sentence as they wrap around his length. He gasps as you sink your head further, taking more of his delicious cock into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes finding that he is staring intently. You use your hand to stroke the rest of him while you focus on the head of his cock. Your tongue swirls around the sensitive head loving that you are the one drawing these eroctic sounds from his mouth. Yoongi strokes the back of your head when you take his cock fully into your mouth. You relax your throat, squeezing his thigh trying to signal him that you want him to move. He experimentally thrusts his hips upwards and you easily take his size. He holds your head steady while he fucks into your throat throwing his head back against the couch.
“Ah, YN you’re taking my cock so well. Such a good girl.” 
Heat pools in your stomach hearing the man you look up to most in this world praising you. He fucks your throat for a few more seconds before he pulls your mouth off. He takes your hand pulling you onto his lap and pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. You can taste each other when your tongues meet. His hands grab your top pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. He quickly unhooks your bra with expert speed and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Yoongi’s hands cup your ass under your skirt kneading the soft skin with his fingertips like a cat.
“Yoongi, will you please fuck me?” You whisper in his ear in your best attempt at a seductive voice. 
“Bend over the side.” He says lifting you off of him to help you into the position. You lean over the arm of the couch sticking your ass out for easy access. He gasps when he sees your bare ass and you hold in a chuckle. “Is that my name tattooed on your ass?” 
“See you don’t need to call Hobi. I’m yours.”
Two years ago after you lost a bet with three twitter mutuals and got ‘Yoongi’ tattooed on your ass in a pretty cursive font. Maybe you should be mortified but it seems like he’s into it from the way he hasn’t yet backed away. Quite the opposite actually. He leans down to kiss the tattoo before sliding two fingers into your cunt. Yoongi is making sure you are ready for his cock. When he pulls his hand away he leans backwards to retrieve a condom from the small table next to the couch. He rolls the condom on while squeezing your ass one more time. 
“All mine.” He whispers as he lines his cock up with your wet pussy.
He glides in easily with a curse leaving his lips when he is completely inside you. Yoongi pulls out then thrusts back inside of you with a sharp snap of his hips. You brace yourself against the arm of the couch preparing for more. His cock is stretching your walls just the right amount like he was meant to fuck you. He repeats his previous motion several times making you gasp each time.
How is he actually good at everything? How can one man be so absolutely perfect and desirable? Yoongi pulls your head back by your hair pulling a high pitched moan from your lips. He finds a rhythm and you can hear how wet you are as he continuously pushes himself in and out of you. Yoongi’s other hand finds your breast playing with your sensitive nipple. 
He is grunting your name as he thrusts inside of your tight cunt. You think he must be close when he suddenly pulls out and sits back on the couch stroking his cock. Yoongi looks at you waiting for you to make the next decision. You decide to straddle him letting his cock slip back inside you without using your hands. He groans, gripping your hips tightly as his head falls backwards. 
You roll your hips relishing in the whiny sound that leaves Yoongi’s lips. He looks so pretty being pleased by your pussy. His lips are parted and his brow is creased. You lean forward capturing Yoongi’s lips with yours. If you have the chance to kiss the Min Yoongi, you shouldn’t waste it. His tongue explores your mouth as you rock your hips on his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away and kissing your collarbone. Yoongi sucks leaving yet another mark on your neck.
Yoongi takes charge helping you bounce on his thick cock. His hands are firmly placed on your ass. You have never felt this close from just being fucked and you hope the unintelligible sounds coming from your mouth are telling him that. Even the air around Yoongi is sexy, making this experience one hundred times more enjoyable. 
He flips you onto your back somehow without falling over. You are shocked by how smooth he’s able to be. Yoongi never leaves contact with your body continuing to fuck himself into you the moment you are on your back. His long fingers find your clit as he thrusts harder into your needy cunt. 
“Yoongi I’m going to cum.” 
His eyes lock with yours as he continues at the pace he was going hitting just the right spot inside of you. The combination of his fingers and cock working together send you over the edge screaming his name. Your legs are shaking as Yoongi chases his own high, grasping your hands for support. His fingers are calloused from playing guitar but you still love the feeling of his hand in yours.
“You’re so perfect, YN.” Yoongi says kissing your jaw. “You took me so well.”
It takes a moment before he pulls out and heads to the bathroom. He comes back lying on the bed behind you. Yoongi opens his arms motioning for you to join him. On shaking legs you get up and curl your head against his chest. For several minutes you remain in that position. Yoongi strokes your hair while your hand rests on his waist.
“Can I take a picture of you?” He asks and you raise your head to look into his soft eyes.
“Why would you want a picture of me?”
Despite what you just did it seems weird that he’d want a photo of you. Is this some kind of collection for him? Does he take photos of all the girls he sleeps with? Is he actually some kind of pervert? You hate that even after thinking that you still want him to have whatever he wants. The thought of him looking at your photo months from now makes your heart soar.
“How else will I remember your beautiful face?”
You cover your face that you know has turned scarlet. He pulls your hands away after retrieving a polaroid camera from the bedside drawer. Yoongi doesn’t take the picture yet, waiting for you to consent. 
“Take my picture, but you have to answer my question.”
Yoongi straddles you, getting just your face and collarbones in the photo and happily snaps the picture. The flash leaves you blinking for a few seconds while Yoongi goes back to his spot beside you. 
“What’s the burning question?” He asks not seeming too worried about what you could possibly be wondering. 
“How many of those photos do you have?” He raises his eyebrows at your words like that is the farthest thing from what he expected you to ask. “I’m sure I’m not the only person who has ever been called to your hotel room.”
Yoongi thinks for a moment his tongue poking out to lick at the corners of his mouth. It's almost as if you can hear the gears turning in his head as he decides if he wants to be honest  or not. He takes a deep breath in then releases it before he speaks. 
“Usually, I lie when people ask, but I’m so tired of lying. You make 63 and maybe this isn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but it's better than other things I could be doing.” 
You are truly impressed that you are able to keep your face neutral when he says that. Where does he find the time for that? Does he only take photos of the fans he sleeps with or everyone? At the end of the day this is none of your business but he said he’s tired of lying. If he wants to give you answers you will surely keep them locked inside your head for the rest of your life. 
“Some fans are really convinced Jimin would be the one to do something like this.”
 Yoongi chuckles, reaching out to play with your fingers not catching your eye as you study his face. You briefly wonder what he thinks of the Takashi Murakami Flowers painted on your nails. You do look like a Hobi bias today. 
“The younger ones did a lot of this in the beginning, but not so much anymore.” He keeps his voice low. “I do this a lot less often now than I used to. When I saw you were coming to the show tonight I knew I had to try. From what I’ve seen on twitter you are so charming and interesting. I just had to know if it was all true.”
This can’t be real. You must have shifted to some alternate reality. How is Min Yoongi saying these things to you? This must be a cruel dream you are going to wake up from any second. It takes you a moment to find your composure enough to speak. 
“Did I live up to your expectations, Yoongi?”
“You far exceeded them, beautiful.” He pulls you closer, still nude, until your head is rested against his shoulder.
He asks you about yourself while he pets your hair. You tell him about how you got into BTS’ and when he isn’t satisfied with that answer you tell him about how you grew up. He tells you things you have never heard in interviews before. Part of you wonders if he does this with everyone too. The connection feels so real, but could it just be your brain making it up?
You fall asleep wrapped in his arms feeling safer than you have in a long time. He didn’t just pleasure your body but your soul too. You wonder if in another life you could have been friends. If he wasn’t an international superstar and you weren’t his fan.
Yoongi isn’t beside you when you wake up. You sit up listening to see if maybe he went to the restroom, but the room is silent. Your heart sinks, but of course he wouldn’t still be here when you woke up. You stand up looking for your tank top and panties but only find the former. There is a piece of hotel stationary taped to the TV. Yoongi’s familiar scrawl is covering the paper.
‘YN, I’m sorry you woke up to an empty bed but I had a last minute schedule. I really enjoyed the night I spent with you. I hope you have a safe flight home and know that I’ll be thinking about you.--Yoongi’
Your eyes fly to the clock when you read the word flight. There is only an hour until your flight leaves. After ripping the note from the TV you tear apart his luggage looking for your panties. They are nowhere to be found so you steal a pair of his boxers. You quickly pull them on and retrieve your phone before rushing out of the room. 
“Hello, YN.” A Hybe staff member says. “There is a cab waiting for you downstairs. We collected your things from your hotel room and they are in the cab.”
“Thank you so much.”
You don’t even want to know how they got into your hotel room. The thought of it being someone’s job to collect the things of Yoongi’s hookups is making you giggle as you get in the cab. Surprisingly, you don’t feel used. Sure, you were one of many but it was one of the best nights you’ve ever had in your life. You learned so much more about the man you idolize. There was a much deeper level of connection that goes beyond the amazing sex you had. 
The gate agent is calling the final boarding call when you finally make it to the airport. This weekend has felt like an actual dream and the sadness that it's over suddenly hit you when you are seated on the plane. A few tears slide down your cheeks before you contain yourself. 
By the time you get home you are starting to believe you dreamed the whole scenario. There is no way Yoongi told you about the fights he used to get into with his brother or how he twisted his ankle trying to impress a boy when he was 12.
You flop onto your bed ready to fall asleep when an unknown number makes your phone ring. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t answer the call but something is telling you need to. 
“Hello?”
“Hello, beautiful.” The unmistakable voice of Min Yoongi says on the side. Your heart skips a beat. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. Guess that means I need to see you again.”
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infiniteglitterfall · 4 months
Text
I'm so fucking done right now
I have a friend. We're going to call her "AAAAAAA!!!!"
AAAAAAA!!!! and I have been friends for more than twenty years. LONG before I started converting to Judaism.
She grew up in an area Jewish enough to get the high holy days off. She has as many Jewish friends as I do. She is more knowledgeable about Jewish stuff than anyone else I know who isn't Jewish. To the point that I've sometimes thought about asking her why she doesn't convert.
Sure, she's a staunch atheist. So nu?
I don't think we'd ever had occasion to talk about I/P politics before a couple of years ago. We immediately discovered we had uhhhhh. Very opposing views. We both backed off of what was clearly going to be a charged and messy discussion.
I didn't know enough yet to try anyway. All I knew, mainly, was that (1) Jews are the indigenous people of Israel and (2) both Israel and Palestine have Done Bad Shit!
That's a very, very, very inadequate understanding. But I did feel pretty confident that point #1 contradicted her apparent stance, which was more "Israel is the one that has Done Bad Shit."
We backed off for a couple of years. She would occasionally mention how much she wished I would read Edward Said, so we could talk about him.
She is, to her credit, totally against Hamas's attack. But we conflict on most other issues. And they're so charged for her that we can't really talk about any of them.
It turns out that the reason they're so charged is that her niece got yelled at and called out for "being an antisemite" for supporting BDS in college, and it was traumatizing for her.
In other words, she and her family stopped at "I had really really big feelings of shame and fear about this," and chose not to see "and I tried to find out why this marginalized group was saying that" as an option.
And also, AAAAAAA!!!!'s sister, a local elementary school principal, went through a stressful time recently for similar reasons: Jewish families were accusing her and/or her school of being antisemitic, and one (1) family left.
AAAAAAAA!!!! set the boundary, with me, that we should not talk about the definition of antisemitism, or antisemitism related to the protest movement, after I posted a list of things on Facebook that the ADL is charging the Berkeley Unified School District with.
Including that K-12 students have been saying and/or writing, "Kill the Jews," "Jews are stupid," "Of course it was the Jews," and telling Jewish peers, "I don't like your people."
My friend is angrily convinced that "such accusations are a flood of SEWAGE smeared on protesters, professors, etc. I am not saying there is no antisemitism, though Berkeley is a very weird place for it to crop up in the from-zero-to-a-thousand way it is described. Of course there can be a) isolated incidents that hit fucking hard in these circumstances, and b) deliberate elisions between, again, being against what Israel is doing, and having that portrayed as being antisemitic."
/looks at the camera/
All of this is just context for what I came here to say 😅
I WAS TONIGHT YEARS OLD WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT EDWARD SAID WROTE, AND WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK. FUCK THAT DUDE TWICE.
Constantine Zurayk's fiction that the “Arab nation” suffered the Nakba didn’t survive for long. [By 1967,] the meaning of the Nakba had already changed as Palestinian activists and historians began depicting the events of 1948 exclusively as a tragedy for their own people.
...The most influential of those [new books that framed it that way,] particularly for audiences in the West, was Edward W. Said’s The Question of Palestine, published in 1979.
Said, a popular Columbia University English professor [OH HELLO] and a member of the Palestinian National Council, was something of an icon in liberal intellectual circles because of his earlier book, Orientalism. In that work, Said framed the history of colonialism in the Arab and Islamic world within a system of Western racialist thought.
I'm just gonna guess that he didn't go back farther than 50 years. Because before that point, you get 1,300 years or so of Arab and Islamic colonialism, and I don't know how it would make sense to frame that within a system of Western racialist thought.
In The Question of Palestine, the author argued that the game was stacked against the native Palestinians in favor of the white Zionists, because of the same dominant racist ideologies.
THAT'S HIM, OFFICER. THAT'S THE GUY.
That's what my friend has been trying to get me to read for three years? An ahistoric mess that pretends Jews were actually white supremacists at the time that white supremacy was actively trying to wipe us out?
I'M SO TIRED, YOU GUYS.
Said denounced “the entrenched cultural attitude toward Palestinians deriving from age-old Western prejudices about Islam, the Arabs, and the Orient. This attitude, from which in its turn Zionism drew for its view of the Palestinians, dehumanized us, reduced us to the barely tolerated status of a nuisance.”
Yeah, THAT'S what happened.
“Certainly, so far as the West is concerned,” Said continues, “Palestine has been a place where a relatively advanced (because European) incoming population of Jews has performed miracles of construction and civilizing and has fought brilliantly successful technical wars against what was always portrayed as a dumb, essentially repellent population of uncivilized Arab natives.”
This was a harsh and distorted view of the Zionist movement.
I said I was so fucking done, and what I MEANT was that I was so fucking angry, and NOW I'M TEXTING HER SUPPORTIVELY ABOUT OTHER STUFF WHILE I WRITE THIS.
I just.
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Please drag Edward Said for me or otherwise Go Off. Thank you
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scarlett-vixen · 2 years
Text
Funny Little Creatures
A/N: Dear Satan stans, I hope I did our boy justice, please don’t murder me if not I’m getting there. If I stare at this any longer I’ll start to hate it so here it is!
Summary: You've made peace with the twins but have been isolated by the others it seems. Fate is a cruel mistress and forces you into an uncomfortable confrontation with the Avatar of Wrath who is struggling himself to understand your power.
Warnings: Not many suprisingly? Very mild cussing, reference of death, if I missed something please let me know!
Word Count: 5.1k The Fight: Vicious The Apologies: Beelzebub,Mammon Asmodeus, Leviathan
“Just once in my life I think it’d be nice, just to lose control”
“MOVE!”
Desperately trying to fight his way through his brothers to reach the safety of his own room, Satan shoved Asmodeus out of the way. Upon reaching his room, Satan slammed the door shut, pressed his back against it, and sunk to the ground. Head in his hands, he could feel his tail wrap around his right leg, he let out a small groan. How the hell could you do this to him? He did so well to keep his composure and not let his anger get the best of him, but it wasn’t even his anger that had triggered his demon form to unleash, and now he sat alone in his room trying to wrap his mind around how a simple human could make him lose control so easily.
Asmo had once bragged about feeling your power run through him in the catacombs while warding off Leviathan’s old pet, causing him to unleash his own demon form and drawing out power that even Solomon had never touched, but Satan had assumed he was being his typical overzealous self. He found it hard to believe that a mere human could hold a power like that, his brother had a flare for the dramatics so it was entirely possible that Asmo had been so caught up in the moment that he dropped his guard all on his own. That was all it was, Asmodeus had simply exaggerated what occurred and his brothers chose to believe it, nothing more… then why was he sitting on his bedroom floor, tail wrapped around himself and horns scraping against the door behind him?
Satan prided himself on what knowledge he had about humans. Unlike his brothers, he had very little interaction with the human world so like with most things, he turned to books to learn more. Long before the exchange program, he had started researching humans wanting to understand why his brothers had been so intrigued by them, however sources were very limited in the Devildom. Despite that, he had done his best to learn the basics and as far as he knew it was not normal for a human to have this much power.
Satan started to replay the scene in his mind, he could see the fire in your eyes, he could feel the venom in your words, he had felt the heat coming off you as you ripped into his brothers. He should have enjoyed you snapping at Lucifer but instead he had felt his heart speed up and his own body strain against him as if he was no longer in control.
Another groan escaped his lips and Satan ran his fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding his horns, before placing them back on his face. He could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks now.
What had you done to him?
Mammon would call you a badass, Leviathan would describe you as “Final Boss amazing” but neither of those things could explain how Satan felt about you in this moment. It was weird, it was embarrassing, it made him feel like a total scumb- like a bad person. He would never use that ‘s’ word again after tonight, not with how forceful you had been in scolding them for using it against Mammon. Why was that? Why was he so afraid to call his brother something that he had said for thousands of years simply because you said not to? Why was his heart still racing in his chest? You had given the order to never say it again and he had felt desperate to follow your command, he wanted another, he wanted to lose control and join you in your state of fury, he’d do anything to have your attention.
He had hardly spent time with you up until recently, he had brushed you off upon arrival, you were nothing more than a defenseless human out of your element. You had once rejected him and he had threatened to dismember your body for crossing him, yet despite that you helped him rejoin his own body and make peace with Lucifer, you made your pact with him and then he had gone about his business.
There was never a strong bond between you like his brothers had, he never felt compelled to follow you around like Mammon, he never considered inviting you to his room like Leviathan, he never wanted to join you for lunch at RAD.
But tonight?
He felt like you had been a part of his life for centuries. He felt a connection that had not been there before, watching you unleash on his brothers had awoken something in him. There had been no fear, no hesitation, just rage inside you.
To finally be on the receiving end of wrath was eye opening, he never knew there was a creature out there that could rival him in anger, but you had pulled back the veil and shown him what you were capable of. You had been so mild-mannered up until now, a smile on your face and putting up with every new task given, but tonight you stood over seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and put them in their places.
In that moment Satan had felt the dynamic shift, you were no longer the innocent exchange student that had to tiptoe around him and his brothers, he knew exactly what you were. You had exposed your real power, even if he was the only one who felt it, even if his brothers were unaware for now, they would soon figure it out. Tonight, you had made them your bitches and shown them who their master was, you proved that you were no longer afraid of them but perhaps they should fear you.
You were Satan’s master now, and he was thrilled to belong to you.
*******************************************************
Four days have passed since your little outburst and things are still very tense at the House of Lamentation. You receive glares in passing from the First Born, the Fourth and Fifth born tense up and evacuate any room you enter with them, and the Third Born was back to the recluse he had been when you first arrived which wasn’t too surprising.  Even the Second Born, who had once been glued to your side and fighting for your attention, was avoiding you and now seemed just as reclusive as his little brother.
Occasionally you’d feel bad, want to apologize, and just forget the whole thing happened, but then you would remember the pain, the anger, the tears you had put up with for so long. You would remember just exactly why you had lost your temper at dinner, the near-death experiences, the threats of being eaten alive, the actual death experience and then you would remember they were the ones who needed to apologize.
Not you.
It wasn’t all terrible though, the twins had apologized and were helping you ignore the awkward stares from the others. Belphegor was quickly learning his place, he wanted nothing more than to be cozy with you on the couch like his twin, but one stern look from you and he would take his place on the floor next to your legs. You made him sit down there in case he decided to try something, you may not have the strength of a demon but one good kick to the face would give you enough time to prepare or escape.
Beelzebub on the other hand had become your new bodyguard it seemed. Ever since he apologized he had been much more attentive to you, walking you to class, taking Mammon’s old spot next to you at meals, putting himself between you and other demons in the hallway at RAD when he thought they were getting too close.
He could tell you were feeling the effects of his brothers avoiding you and it hurt his heart. He would come to your room and offer snacks while you did your homework, if he found you alone around the house he would ask you to join him and Belphie in their room to watch a movie, other times he would sit nearby while you studied and keep you company just so you didn’t have to feel alone.
He knew his brothers had to do this on their own, they had to figure out how to fix their mistakes, you had done that too many times for them already, now it was their turn. He hated to see his family so separated after how close they had all become, but he understood this wasn’t something he could rush, so instead he made sure to keep you happy.
The end of your day was drawing near, Potions was your final class, you sat in your usual spot towards the back of the room in hopes to avoid being called on to answer questions. Your professor had been droning on for the last forty-five minutes about some potion that made one thing do something completely different, if you were being honest with yourself you had zoned out ten minutes into the lecture, didn’t know what potion was being discussed and didn’t really care, you were constantly reminded that you had no real magic so what good was learning this stuff anyway?
You were snapped out of the daydream that had been consuming your thoughts by one simple word: Project. What made it worse was the word “partner” that echoed in your head after. Your Potions class had about fifty students in it, three of the brothers included, and usually your professor allowed you to choose your own partner for assignments. You looked at the empty seat next to you, your typical partner in crime was absent yet again so that ruled him out, you searched through the sea of students and spotted the fiery orange hair you had hoped to find, you started drilling holes in the back of his head with your eyes and tried mentally willing him to turn around and acknowledge you. At one point you considered using the pact to make him turn but just as you were mulling over the pros and cons of using your pact for such a silly reason, Beel turned to look at you but he had a distinct look of fear on his face, you gave him a confused look and then looked up at the board in the front of the room.
While you had been busy trying to master telepathy, your professor had thrown up a chart with your assigned partners, your eyes sped across the names searching for yours, from the look on Beel’s face you knew it wasn’t him and your heart began to race.
“Please, no no no no, don’t let it be-” just as you had started your quiet prayer to yourself, you found your name.
And your partner’s as well.
“Fuck.”
Your stomach dropped and a strong nauseous feeling washed over you. There it was, the one name you didn’t want assigned to you, but of course out of 49 possible names you got him. You hesitantly found him in the crowd, seated in the first row, eyes glued to the chart on the board.
You felt like throwing up.
The bell that signaled the end of class brought you back to reality, you waited a moment hoping he would leave the room quickly since he was so close to the door, but instead he started packing his bag at a snail’s pace.
You started planning your escape.
Beel had been washed out of the room with the other Fangol players heading to practice, you saw a large group of less intimidating demons heading for the door and decided to use them as cover, you threw your books into your bag and quickly made your way over to the group. You were getting closer to the door, freedom in your grasp, you pleaded with yourself in your mind.
“Just let me get home, I’ll deal with him there but pleeeeaseee don’t make me confront him no-”
“MC…”
You froze.
You were so close, the door a mere three feet away but the group you were trying to blend in with had clogged in the doorframe, trapping you inches away from the one desk you had been trying to avoid. If ever there was a time for you to learn how to turn invisible or teleport home, now would have been fantastic, instead you stood as still as possible while facing your now empty exit. You could bolt right now, take off and head for the house and not have to do this, but you knew it would only incur more awkward conversation later.
So, you prepared for potential battle instead.
“What.” Your voice stern and hinting for him to test you.
“I just, well, I thought you might want to start on the assignment as soon as possible.” The usual confidence in his voice was missing, he almost sounded nervous.
You turned your head slightly out of curiosity and spotted him from the corner of your eye. Even with your back turned he still refused to look at you, instead he was facing the front of the room, a very worn-down pencil danced between his fingers.
How odd to see such a wrathful being act so timid.
“Fine. Meet me at the Royal Library downtown at seven.” You adjusted your bag and headed out of the room, as you left you caught his reflection in the window on the door. That was the first time he had looked at you in almost a week, you could almost make out a forlorn look on his face, what a pathetic sight to see.
*******************************************************
You checked your D.D.D. for the third time, only two minutes had passed but it felt like hours, the time was 7:03. You grew anxious, being alone in this massive library would be a dream for some, but as a human in a world of demons it was extremely nerve-racking.
You had been here before a few times, but always accompanied by a brother. On one occasion it was Levi who was desperately seeking a rare manga that was rumored to be located in the far back and of course he couldn’t go alone, though typically it was Satan who escorted you. The two of you weren’t very close but he had offered to help you study for tests and this was a far better choice than the HOL.
You checked your phone again, 7:04. This was driving you insane. It wasn’t like Satan to be late, he rivaled Lucifer in punctuality, but was less annoying about it.
You wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t show up, the two of you had basically zero contact in the last four days and honestly you had been glad. This was one confrontation you had been dreading, thinking of the times he had threatened to maul you or feed you to lower demons made your eye twitch, but thinking about how quickly things could go south made your stomach turn.
You had lured him out of the house in hopes to level the battlefield, you knew he’d destroy the house with no hesitation if need be, so you thought maybe having thousands of rare and priceless books around him would make him think twice before spilling your blood. Your phone lit up with a new text notification.
Beel: Is he there yet?
You: No.
You: Maybe I’ll get lucky and he just won’t show.
Beel: :(
Beel: But then you guys won’t make up. Don’t worry, if he loses his temper, just summon me and I’ll protect you!
You smiled at your phone, at least Beelzebub had your back. In fact, you practically had to pry him off you in order to leave the house earlier. He kept insisting he join you, giving you puppy dog eyes and promising to sit far enough to the side so you and his brother could work but close enough to step in if needed. After several failed attempts to escape his hold, you had pulled the twin card and told him he was in charge of watching Belphie and making sure he finished his chores, Beel had begrudgingly let you leave but watched you disappear down the sidewalk before closing the front door.
You started scrolling through Devilgram when you heard the chair across from you move, looking up you saw Satan once again trying to avoid looking at you.
“You’re late.” You glared at him, annoyed at his avoidance more than his tardiness.
“By five minutes I know. I apologize.” He began to unpack his bag, still avoiding your harsh stare. You scoffed and shook your head.
“Oh, that you’ll apologize for…”
“What?” He paused his movement but didn’t turn to face you. You felt a heat building in you just like before, but this wasn’t the time to snap.
“Nothing. Do you have any ideas for the assignment?” You opened your notebook and skimmed over your scribbles.
“A few…” Satan reluctantly opened his notes and sheepishly pushed them towards you.
“What you can’t just tell me?”
“No, I just...” He trailed off, his eyes searching the floor for any type of distraction.
The heat began to rise in you, this was going nowhere. You wanted to be nice, but his constant avoidance was grating your nerves, he was supposed to be the rebellious brother wasn’t he? Right now he seemed more awkward and out of place than Levi would in this situation; it was time to just rip the bandage off and let the wound bleed.
“What are you looking for down there? Your pride?”
“What?” You heard a tinge of anger in his voice, you had his attention now. He lifted his head to meet your eyes and immediately looked away.
You tilted your head slightly, annoyance covering your face, ready for the challenge. You knew you had struck a chord with him but even still he won’t look you in the eyes, maybe the fortress of books was working too well.
“You heard me. Avoiding me at home is one thing, but now we have a project to do together and you still won’t look at me!” You could see Satan tense up. “Look I get that we weren’t exactly friends when I blew up on you guys at dinner, but why is it that you can’t even stay in the same room as me anymore? I understand that you’re not obligated to be ‘friends’ with me just because we have a pact but why the hell would you make one if you’re just going to spend the rest of my time down here avoiding me!” you kept your voice lowered and spoke through clenched teeth, you had leaned in towards him with your hands on the table.
Satan shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat like he was ready to talk but nothing came out, you felt his mark start to burn on your skin once more. Your blood was starting to boil, why was he shutting down? You had provoked him and he started to take the bait but then backed down completely, now he was visibly uncomfortable and you were ready to lose it right here in the library. You were ready to start screaming, to rip into him and give him a piece of your mind, all while he sat there frozen in his chair just like he had the other night.
Then you thought of something.
You lightly touched where his pact mark resided on your body, you watched him wince at the same time even though his eyes were still on his lap.
“Can you…feel that?” the question came out a little more shocked than you had planned.
“Yes…”
Things started to make sense, the reason he had been so uncomfortable during that dinner and why he was so tense right now.
“And…you can feel my anger?”
“Very much so. It’s so intense that I have to focus on maintaining my human form.” The blonde gave a nervous laugh and raised his head slightly. You felt a little guilty, you were still learning about your pacts and how to use them, you had no idea the demons could be affected by your mood.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you guys could feel all my emotions.” You placed your hand back on the table.
“Well, that’s not exactly how it works, we only feel our own sin. Leviathan can feel your jealousy, Beel can feel when you’re hungry and I… can feel your anger.” Satan lifted his head slightly more and you could vaguely see a pink tint on his cheeks.
“Huh, you know that explains a lot about Beel showing up with food when I’m hungry, I just thought he could read minds or something.” You shrugged and sat back in your chair, the fire in you was starting to fade. Satan chuckled and looked up at you for the first time.
“I think that only works with Belphie. Although that would be an interesting theory to test.”
“So, is that why you’ve been avoiding me? You could sense that I was still pissed?”
“Yes actually, I never knew if it was directed at me or if it was just about the general situation, but I always made sure to leave in case I couldn’t control myself. That’s the reason I was late tonight as well if I’m honest, I was afraid of being alone with you.” The blush on his cheeks was more visible now.
“Well, at least I know why you would run out of the room now. So, that means at the dinner?”
“I was fighting for my life to not lose control; I didn’t think it would help the situation.”
“Yeah, that would’ve made things a lot worse I’m sure,” you grimaced “I’m sorry, I wanted you guys to understand how I felt but I didn’t know you’d feel it that strongly.”
“Don’t apologize,” Satan looked down at his hands as they messed with the pages of his notebook “Watching you, standing there looking down on us, the rage in your voice and fire in your eyes. I felt like I was finally able to understand how others feel when I lose my temper. Yet, I was not afraid of you, instead I found myself in awe of your ability to keep it under control.” It was your turn to blush.
“I wouldn’t say I kept it under control exactly.”
“Maybe not in the eyes of my brothers, but I could feel the sheer rage inside you, I felt it grow when you started to berate Belphegor, and yet you never lost control. We both know there was more rage inside than you let show, wasn’t there?” He looked back up at you.
“To be completely honest? I considered throwing a chair at Lucifer…and then flipping the entire table over…and then lighting the whole dining room on fire.” You gave each other a look of understanding then started to laugh.
“You know I’ve always been intrigued by humans and with you around I seem to learn more about them every day. Such funny little creatures you are.” He gave you a smirk.
“I could say the exact same thing about you demons.” You huffed and smiled at him.
“I take your laughter and smile to mean you don’t hate me?” Satan gave you a hopeful smile but you rolled your eyes in return.
“I never hated you guys. I just needed you all to understand how frustrated and hurt I was after everything that happened. I was finally starting to feel a connection to you guys, like I belonged here, and then the attack happened and it felt like none of you cared.” You shifted your gaze to your notebook again. “Do you know how much it sucks to feel completely alone? To feel like everyone is staring at you as if you’re a freak just because you don’t have horns, wings, fangs, a tail or some kind of combination of it all? You don’t understand how isolated I felt when I first got here, it was like I had personally offended every demon I came across just by existing!”
“Actually, I know exactly what that feels like…” You raised your head and gave him a confused look.
“How?”
“Well, as you already know, I was born from Lucifer’s rage. I entered this world alone and angry, my brothers were all trying to recover from the fall, from losing Lilith, and now this small demon was following them around. They were mourning things I couldn’t help with and that I didn’t understand, really I understood nothing. I felt terrified and lost, I was also incredibly angry for some reason, and my brothers had no idea what to do with me. I was assigned Avatar of Wrath from the moment I was born, and everyone around me acted as if I was a monster ready to devour them at any given moment. I didn’t ask to be born a being of pure anger and hate, in fact I didn’t really ask to be born at all, but here I am.” Satan furrowed his brows and continued “You and I actually have more in common than I originally believed, we both got tossed into something we didn’t ask for and were outcast simply for existing as we are.”
“You know, that’s the most human thing any of you have said to me so far.” You laughed a little. “I guess I never really thought that much about your birth, sometimes I actually forget you’re supposed to be the angry one, I never realized you were treated that way.”
Satan leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“Yes well, my brothers did their best to help me learn and understand the world around me, all of them eventually came to terms with my existence.” He tilted his head and looked slightly upwards. “Although I’m not entirely convinced Lucifer did… but I digress, you and I were both treated unfairly for things we couldn’t control. I’m truly sorry for how I treated you MC, I said some very horrible things to you when you first arrived. I wasn’t very welcoming to you, I acted as if you were a bother to me, it took me far too long to see that you were just as scared as I had once been. I should’ve been helping you understand this new world you had entered but instead I used you more as a new way to annoy Lucifer, I’m so sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” For the first time ever, Satan looked directly into your eyes, you could see the guilt but also the hope inside them.
“You know, I’ve never understood why everyone always compares you to Lucifer.”
“Excuse me?” Satan blinked and shook his head. He gives you an honest apology and that’s how you respond?
“There’s not a chance in hell I could get a sincere apology from him like you just gave me.” You smirked and watched the fourth born blush again. “Congratulations though, this makes you the third brother to apologize for their actions so far.”
“I assumed Beelzebub had made up with you, given how much he’s been doting on you, and I’ll assume the other would be Belphie seeing as how he’s been following you like a stray dog suddenly.”
“You’d be correct, poor Beel is going to worry himself to death if the others don’t hurry up and apologize though. As for Belphie-”
“Let me guess. You’ve made some sort of deal with him and now he follows your orders?” Satan gave you a teasing smile, for a guy who kept his nose in a book most of the time he sure knew more about what went on in the house than you thought. “I have to say, I’m rather surprised to see you spending so much time with Belphegor now though. I guess I’ve just grown accustomed to Mammon following you everywhere!”
“Well actually, I haven’t seen Mammon since that night… have you?” You had been suppressing the thought up until now, but you had started to miss the energetic demon that normally kept you company. He had been skipping classes and calling in for work, you only knew that part because Belphegor had overheard Lucifer on the phone while napping in the common room, he had been absent from every meal since the big blow out too.
“Personally no, but I know he’s still alive, I did try asking Lucifer about him but the only response I got was ‘he’s eating and not racking up bills what more do you want?’ not sure what I expected from him though.” Satan rolled his eyes.
“I guess he’s taking this a lot harder than I expected him to.” You felt the guilt crawling up inside you. He was truthfully the only brother that hadn’t deserved your wrath.
“I’m not surprised really, all things considered.” Satan shrugged his shoulders and began to write in his notebook for the first time tonight.
“What do you mean by that exactly?” the concern in your voice was apparent. Satan stopped writing and furrowed his brows again, still looking at his notes.
“You don’t know do you?”
“I know he held me when I died, yeah.” Concern shifted to confusion, what exactly was he trying to get at?
“No, that isn’t all he did…” Satan put his pen down and looked up at you, his eyes soft and from his body language you could tell he was choosing his next words carefully.
“MC… Mammon was the one who found you…” Your heart began to race and your head started to spin, you didn’t like thinking about your death so you never considered that one of them had been the first to see you like that, part of you thought they had found you as a group. You’d been upset that Mammon had to hold your limp body as the life left it, but to hear that he had been the one to find you.
You thought about how that must have been for him, to find the person he’d spent the last six months getting into trouble with, the person he’d become so attached to, the human that he’d so clearly fallen in love with, to find his human beaten and bruised.
For the second time today, you felt like throwing up.
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years
Text
Floating Through Space - Harry Styles
a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!
pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader
warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao
word count: 25.7k
masterlist
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This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?
Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.
Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.
“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.
Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.
You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.
“Don’t wear men’s pants.”
“You’d look better in a dress.”
“Why do you look like a guy?”
“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”
Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.
There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.
“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”
“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”
“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.
“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.
“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”
“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.
“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”
“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.
“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.
“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”
“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”
“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”
“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.
“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.
Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.
“Oi, can I ask for one?”
Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.
“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.
“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.
“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.
“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.
“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!
“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”
“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.
“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.
“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.
“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.
“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.
“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.
“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”
“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.
“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”
“Not even once,” you shake your head.
“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.
“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.
“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”
“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.
“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”
They stay silent and you know you were right.
“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”
“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.
“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”
Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.
Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.
The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.
“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.
“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.
“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.
“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”
“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.
Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.
“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.
You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.
You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.
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Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.
“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”
Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.
It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.
Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.
“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.
“Are you home already?”
“Yes, just arrived.”
“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.
You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.
“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.
“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.
“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.
“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”
“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”
“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.
“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”
“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.
“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”
“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.
“See?” she smiles warmly.
“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”
“Harry Styles.”
You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.
“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.
“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”
Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.
“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”
“You and Harry?”
“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.
“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”
“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”
“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”
“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.
Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.
Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.
Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.
“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”
“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.
“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”
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One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.
Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.
Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.
Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.
“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.
“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.
“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”
“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.
“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.
“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”
“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, thank you. Back at you.”
“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.
The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.
“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.
“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”
You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.
“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.
“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.
“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.
“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”
“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.
“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.
“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.
“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”
“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.
“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”
“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”
“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”
You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”
“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”
“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.
“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”
“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.
“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”
“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.
“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”
“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.
“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.
“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”
“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”
You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.
The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.
“I would… love to work on a song with you.”
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When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.
You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.
You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.
The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.
“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.
“Yeah, everything went fine.”
“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?
However, Harry can see right through you.
“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.
“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”
“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”
“What?”
“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”
“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.
“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”
It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.
“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.
“You guys still talk?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.
“You miss being with the band?”
“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”
“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.
“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”
You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.
“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”
“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.
“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”
Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.
“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.
“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.
“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.
“Nothing pissed you off lately?”
“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.
“It’s… a long story.”
“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”
Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.
“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”
Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.
“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.
“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.
“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”
“You’re right,” you nod smiling.
 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.
Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.
“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.
“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t know how not to stress?”
“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”
“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”
“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”
“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”
“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.
“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.
“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”
“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”
“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”
“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”
“Are you gonna smoke?”
“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”
“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”
Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.
You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.
“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”
“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”
“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”
“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”
“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.
“Did he ever stop?”
“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”
You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.
“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.
“What?”
His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.
“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.
You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.
“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.
“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.
“Do you want to go for a swim?”
“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.
“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.
“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.
“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.
“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”
“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.
With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.
When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.
“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.
“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.
Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.
“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.
“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.
“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”
“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.
“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”
“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”
“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.
You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.
“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”
“Which one?”
“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”
You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.
“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”
“What was the name of the song?”
“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”
“Can I ask why you left your parents?”
“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”
The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.
“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”
“No,” you shake your head.
“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”
“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”
“Woah, that sounds really tough.”
“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”
You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.
“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”
“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”
“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.
“You could say that,” you nod into the water.
“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.
“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.
“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.
“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.
“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”
“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.
“Damn right,” he smirks.
And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.
The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.
“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.
“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.
“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.
“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”
“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.
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The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.
You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.
You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.
“So how did the writing session go?��� she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.
“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.
“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.
Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.
“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.
“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.
“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”
“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.
“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”
You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.
When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.
You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.
The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.
In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.
You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.
Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.
Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.
“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.
“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“
“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.
“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.
“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.
“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.
“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”
“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.
“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.
“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.
“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.
“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.
“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.
“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.
“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.
You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.
As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.
“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.
“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”
“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”
He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.
“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”
“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”
“What did he do this time?”
“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.
“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”
“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”
Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.
“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.
“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”
“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”
“Shoot it.”
“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”
“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.
“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”
“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.
“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.
“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”
 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.
“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.
“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.
“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.
“You’re a fan?”
“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.
“You need to perform it for me.”
“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”
“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”
“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.
You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.
Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx
Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.
“You alright?” Harry softly asks.
“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.
“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”
“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”
From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.
“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”
Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.
“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”
He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.
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“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”
The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.
“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”
“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.
“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.
When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.
“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”
He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.
You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.
Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.
“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.
“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”
“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.
“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” you admit.
“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.
“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“
You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.
His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.
Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.
Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.
“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.
“Kind of.”
“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”
“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.
“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.
“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?
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You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.
It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.
Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.
It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.
Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.
Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.
“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.
“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”
“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”
“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.
“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”
“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”
“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”
“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.
By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.
Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.
“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.
“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”
The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.
On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?
Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.
Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.
Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.
Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.
At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.
Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.
“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.
“Not that I know of.”
“Do you want to come over to my place?”
“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.
When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.
Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  
“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.
It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.
“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.
“Some water would be great, thank you.”
Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.
He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.
“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.
“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.
“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.
“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.
Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.
Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.
When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.
“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.
“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”
Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.
“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.
“Yes.”
“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.
You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.
Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.
“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.
He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.
With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.
Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.
“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.
“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.
“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.
“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.
Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.
“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.
“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.
Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.
“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.
You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.
“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.
He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.
Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.
“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.
Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.
Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.
With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.
“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.
“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.
He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.
“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”
“Are you still friends with them?”
“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”
A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.
“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.
“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.
“Why not?”
“Because we work together.”
“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.
“You like me?”
“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”
“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.
“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.
“You can stay, but you have to behave.”
“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.
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You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.
“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.
“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.
“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.
“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.
Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.
“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.
“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.
“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.
“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.
“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”
“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”
“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.
“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.
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Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.
Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.
Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.
Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?
He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.
Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?
Harry: Is that even a question?!
“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.
“Huh?”
“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”
“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.
“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”
“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.
“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”
“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.
“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”
“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”
“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”
“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”
“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“
“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.
“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”
“I know,” you chuckle.
“How was it?”
“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”
“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”
“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”
“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.
“How is the song writing going?”
“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”
“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.
“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.
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Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.
Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.
Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.
“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.
“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.
“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”
“I’ll be fine, thanks.”
“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”
Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.
“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.
“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”
“Always.”
“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”
Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.
“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”
“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”
“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.
“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.
“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.
The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.
“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”
“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.
“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.
“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.
“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.
“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.
“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.
You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.
“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”
“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.
His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.
“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.
The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.
Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.
“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.
“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”
“I want to cum with you.”
“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”
You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.
“Harry! Please!”
“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.
You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.
He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.
“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Mm, good idea.”
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Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.
Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.
“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.
“About what you said about your parents.”
“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”
“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”
You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.
“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.
“What… would you do if you were in my place?”
Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”
“And what if they don’t?”
“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”
“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.
“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.
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Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.
“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.
“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.
Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.
Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.
She attached several articles and you start digging through them.
“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”
“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”
“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”
And then there’s the absolute worst.
“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.
Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.
The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.
You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”
“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.
“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.
An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.
Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.
“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.
“Again?”
“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”
“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”
“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.
“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”
“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”
“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”
“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”
“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”
“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”
“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”
“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”
“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.
“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”
“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”
“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.
“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”
“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”
You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.
“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”
He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.
“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.
“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“
“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.
He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.
The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.
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The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.
Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.
On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.
You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.
“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”
“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.
“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”
“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”
“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”
“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”
“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”
“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.
“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”
And with that, you end the call.
Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.
As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.
“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.
“Halo?”
“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.
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There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.
You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.
“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”
“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.
“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”
“Bad bitches have bad days too.”
“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”
“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”
“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”
“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”
She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.
-
Hi Taylor!
I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.
I hope to see you soon, take care!
Harry
-
With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.
“He… pulled out for me.”
“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”
“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”
“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”
You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.
“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”
“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”
“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.
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You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.
Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.
As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.
“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.
“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.
You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.
“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.
“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”
“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.
“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”
Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.
“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.
“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”
“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”
“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”
“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”
Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.
“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.
Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.
“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.
You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.
“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”
“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”
“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”
“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”
“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”
“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”
“Would you please come with me?”
Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.
“I would love to, if you want me there.”
“I do,” you nod.
“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.
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Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet
The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.
Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.
Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.
Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!
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Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.
“Hey.”
Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”
“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.
“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”
Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.
You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.
“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.
You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.
“Hi mom, hi dad.”
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Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!
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bubblegumbi0tch · 3 years
Text
The Workout
Trainer iwa x reader
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Why do you continue to do this to yourself?" Your best friend asked from beside you.
"What do you mean? I'm going to the gym." You said, laughing as she pulled up to your gym.
"Yeah exactly, we could be getting ready to go out right now, you know?" She said, giving you puppy dog eyes.
"You mean we could be getting all dressed up to go out with your boyfriend while I'll awkwardly be the third wheel?" You corrected, opening the car door.
"You make a fair point." She laughed. "Besides, I think I know why you come here now." She said, looking out her windscreen.
"And why is that?" You said, hopping out of the car but bending down so you could still talk to her.
"Him." She stated, pointing at the man in the doorway of the gym.
"Oh yeah, that's my trainer, Iwaizumi." You winked at her before shutting the door and walking over to him.
You greeted  
 and went inside to put your stuff away before going into the weights room to see Iwaizumi.
"I thought you weren't going to show up; it's almost eight," Iwaizumi said as you walked over to him.
"I was debating whether or not to show up. My friend was tempting me with a night out of drinking instead of a night of aching muscles." You laughed while drinking some water. "And you chose me. I'm touched, Y/N." Iwaizumi said, smiling wide, placing his hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah, well, I'm just hoping you can go easy on me tonight." You replied. "Not exactly; we're going to do a more intense workout tonight." He said, moving closer to you.
"Yay." You sighed, pushing him back and heading towards the pull-up bars.
You and Iwaizumi worked out for about 80 minutes when you finally decided that you needed a break.
"Why are you stopping?" Iwaizumi said, catching his breath.
"You weren't joking when you said this was going to be more intense than our other sessions Iwaizumi." 
You said, collapsing onto the ground. Iwaizumi just stared and snickered at you. "You're mean Iwaizumi, I don't think I can move." You breathed, looking at the ceiling.
"Here." Iwaizumi said, sitting beside you to give you some water. "Tonight's workout wasn't even that intense. It's like a walk in the park." He said, suddenly making you choke on your water.
"Are you insane a walk in the park?" You asked, shocked. "Not even Satan wouldn't have made me do anything that you've made me do tonight." You said, grabbing onto Iwaizumi's shoulder.
"That's a tiny overreaction (y/n)." Iwaizumi laughed, following you out of the room.
"No, you're wrong. I'm one thousand percent certain that right now I'm a ghost, and my corpse is back in there." You said, pointing to the room, trying to conceal your smile.
"Oh really (y/n)?" He asked as you stood outside the women's changing rooms. You nodded, and he shook his head. "So I take it we're done for tonight." He said as he looked around the empty gym.
You two usually worked out late when the gym was basically empty, you didn't like to work out in front of many people, and he preferred to just focus on you.
"Don't expect to see me for a month; I need to relax." You laughed, opening the changing room door.
"Good. That means no more late nights." Iwaizumi laughed; you pushed him slightly, not finding his joke funny. "Are you going to belong? I have to lock up." Izumi smiled sweetly at you.
"I'm going to take my time ok. I need to wash all this sweat off me".You said, smiling sweetly back at him.
"I happen to think it looks great on you." Iwazumisaid winking. "You're the only one that gets to see me like this." You said, winking back before going into the changing room.
Once you grabbed your bag from your locker, you undressed and put a towel around your body. You headed to the shower, making sure it was warm enough for you.
All you wanted to do was have a bath when you get home, but you couldn't wait that long feeling as gross as you do.
While you were in the shower, Iwazumi went back into the room you two were working out in. He packed some things away and noticed your sports jacket that you took off because you were too hot.
He picked it up so he could give it to you when your phone fell out of the pocket, the screen lit up, and a message from your best friend appeared. Actually, a few did.
F/N: Hey, what time are you finishing? Do you want me to pick you up?
F/N: I'm assuming by your lack of response, you're still working out.
F/N: Or is handsome taking you home? God, he's gorgeous.
F/N: Your workout can't be keeping you this busy.
F/N: Or is he keeping you busy?
F/N: Are you two doing it? You can tell me. You know I won't judge; you know sex is classed as work out.
F/N: You're a terrible friend for not replying. I'm just going to have to assume you're banging him. Call me later. I want some details later.
Iwaizumi laughed to himself after briefly looking at the messages and decided to go and give it to you.
He knocked on the changing room door and didn't get a reply, so he just assumed you were either changing or in the shower; he quietly opened the door and walked into the room.
He saw your bag lying out with your workout clothes next to it and placed your phone on them. As he went to leave, he heard you singing softly in the shower.
"You know (y/n) I like the song when the actual artist sings it," Iwaizumi said, startling you. 
"Iwaizumi, what the hell are you doing?" You shouted, looking around.
"Don't worry, I'm not staring (y/n)." He said, calming you slightly, not that it helped in any way.
"I meant what the hell are you doing in here." You said sternly.
"I was giving you your phone." He stated. "Do you want a lift home?" He asked out of the blue.
"Yes, please, after I've gotten dressed." You said as you started to turn the shower off.
"Clothing isn't optional." He said, and you could practically see his smirk.
"I'll follow your lead." You said, smirking to yourself as you grabbed the towel. You didn't hear Iwaizumi's reply, but you did hear some shuffling.
A few moments later, you saw a silhouette come through the steamed room.
"Iwaizumi, what are you doing?" You asked, walking towards him. You both stopped a few centimeters from each other, and Iwaizumi lifted his hand, turning the shower on.
Having a shower." He stated obviously.
"But I-Iwaizumi, this is the women's locker room." You said, trying to keep your eyes on him and nowhere else.
"You're the only woman in here, and you don't seem to mind." He said, whispering. You stared at him, trying to decide what to do. "Your towel is wet. You should probably get a clean one." He said lowly. You nodded in agreement and went to walk around him. "Later, though." He said, pulling you towards him.
You’re lips crashed in an instant; you didn't know whether to kiss back or pull away. No warnings were going off in your head, so you kissed him back. Your hands went to his neck, one of his went to your back, the other your front when he untied the towel from your body, letting it fall to the floor.
You both pulled away, staring at each other with intensity. You moved forward, putting your hands back around his neck, pulling him to your level where you kissed him. One of his went to the back of your head, the other your ass as he squeezed roughly.
Iwaizumi smacked your ass, making you moan, giving his tongue a perfect chance to explore your mouth.
You stayed like this for a while, your wet naked bodies tangled up, hair sticking everywhere, tongues battling for dominance, hands now wondering every inch of each other. You loved every second, and so was he.
Both of Iwaizumi 's hands found their way to your ass as he squeezed tightly; you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist, one hand in his hair, the other on his face as you pulled him close into the kiss.
He spun you around so your back was against the wall; his kisses moved to your jaw and neck as he made his way to your breast.
He pulled the nipple with his teeth before sucking on it. He removed his mouth and blew gently; the feeling of the cool air on your erect numb felt terrific against the steam-filled room. He did this to your other nipple, then all over your torso. Sucking on the skin then blowing.
His face was level with yours once again, and you continued to kiss some more.
Izumi's hands still rested on your plump ass; he moved one hand under you. So he could access where you needed him; he played with your clit first, rubbing it gently before taking two fingers and entering them inside you.
You moaned, pulling away from his lips and arching your back as he continued to move in and out of your core; your legs tightened around his waist, and he moved his other hand to the wall beside you while he continued with his other hand.
You were close, the warm feeling starting up in your stomach, but you knew you weren't there yet. Iwaizumi then added another finger, going even harder and deeper, showing no sign of slowing down.
His movements were destroying you, but he wasn't done as he started to rub his calloused thumb against your clit, determination, and lust in his eyes as he stared deeply into yours.
"Iwaizumi ." You moaned, getting closer. His moves were now quickening. "Iwaizumi !" You moaned even louder, his actions getting deeper. "Iwa-oh my god!" You screamed, shuddering beneath him.
He held you tight, still keeping his fingers within you as you rode out your high; your mouth was open as he started to pepper kisses all over your face.
"Woah." You said, catching your breath looking at him.
"We're not done yet (y/n); this is part of your workout." He said, taking his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth. He tasted you, his eyes still on you; he slowly took his fingers out of his mouth and pulled you into a deep kiss, it was gentler, but you could still feel the need in it.
He removed his hand from the back of your head and put it under you, this time grabbing his rigid member and rubbing the tip against you. He looked at you for reassurance as you nodded your head, and he slowly entered you; you started to sink down on him, so you were meeting him halfway.
Iwaizumi stilled, waiting for you to adjust; when you had, he placed one hand on your back, the other on the wall beside your head and pulled back, slowly moving around in.
He kept at this pace for a while until you started to moan; he then moved faster, moaning as well.
Your moans got louder as his hips snapped faster, going deeper.
Iwaizumi moved you from the wall, carefully placing you onto the floor as he filled you again;. However, the ground was slippery; it didn't seem to bother him as he began pounding into you again.
He found your g-spot and decided to not leave it as he continued at the same pace and depth, being sure to hit it every time.
As he continued this, your moans turned to screams that then became deep breaths as you could no longer make a noise.
Your back arched, and Iwaizumi moved down to put your nipple in his mouth once again. You pulled on his hair as one of his hands moved between you both so he could rub your clit.
He hit deeper and deeper, and you were starting to feel your second orgasm of the night.
With each hit came a new feeling of euphoria. You started to clench around him; your nails found his back making sure to mark it as he continued to pleasure you.
Iwaizumi lifted his head from your breast, and he captured your lips in his silencing you as you came; soon after you came, he came as well, slowing his movements but not completely stopping, not until your breathing was restored.
When you both could breathe adequately, Iwaizumi got up and helped you up too. You both stood under the shower and cleaned yourselves up. Iwaizumi turned to help you because you were sore, then he guided you over to your clothes.
You got changed into some clean joggers and a hoodie, and he changed into what he was wearing earlier.
"That was some workout." You said, trying to break the silence.
"Yeah." Iwaizumi chuckled, staring at you. "We could do that instead if you want to." He suggested walking over to you so he could help tie your shoes.
"It's way better than what you had me doing earlier." You laughed as you filled your bag.
"Tell me about it." He said, getting up from tying your shoe. "Do you still need a lift home?" He asked.
"Yes, please." You smiled. He smiled back, placing an arm over your shoulder as you both walked out of the changing room.
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Requests are open ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⊹ ♥︎
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ageofnations · 2 years
Text
Chamomile // drw // Pt.III
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Summary: Danny often feels overshadowed by his best friends and bandmates. You, however, can't seem to get your mind off of him.
Paring: Danny x fem!reader
Word Count: ~2.8k
Warnings: talk of mental health, hangover symptoms (and medicine for such symptoms)
A/N: i never could find the actual interview i based this from, so i just came up with one of my own. PLZ remember that this is fictional and in no way how i think the boys actually treat Danny. thank you guys for all of your support <3
Serie s Masterlist
Part III
It seemed as if the concept of sleep was foreign to you tonight. Despite the protest of the others, you chose the couch. You were adamant that they sleep in their own beds, even through their slurred arguments. But because of their drunken states, they didn’t put up much of a fight.
Usually, you found it easy to sleep on the boys’ couch. You had done it so many times before that it seemed almost second nature to you. The curve of the cushions and the familiar fragrant scents brought comfort similar to that of a lullaby. Tonight was different though. You were restless and found it hard to keep your eyes closed for long. You went from too hot to too cold, comfortable to uncomfortable. You tossed and turned until you finally gave up completely on trying to fall asleep. You picked up your phone off the table beside the couch, deciding to pass the time with more social media.
One of your favorite hobbies was searching the hashtags related to the band and looking through the mountains of fanmade content. You loved seeing videos and pictures of old performances, especially from the earlier years of Greta Van Fleet. You sometimes shared funny memes with the boys and read through stories to see how the fictional versions of the boys matched with reality. You were just about to switch the social media platform you were investigating when you came across a portion of a written interview with Danny. You read the caption before anything.
“This makes me so sad for Danny,” it said, paired with various crying emojis. The comments and tags matched the nature of the caption.
You were curious as to what the fuss was all about, so you decide to read the screenshots yourself.
Interviewer: So you’ve been going for a while now, but do you ever still get nervous when going out on stage?
Danny: Absolutely. I’d like to say I’m lucky that I sit at the back of the stage. Josh, Jake, and Sam are closer to the fans than I am, so they don’t get to mask their nerves as much. I’ve come up with strategies and tactics to calm down if I ever need them though.
Interviewer: Have you ever needed to use those?
Danny: More often than not, yeah. I had to work really hard to get where I am today, and I’m still trying to improve. I came into the band known as the “replacement,” and some days, I still feel like my spot in the band is fragile. Like they’d kick me out if I messed up. That feeling on top of performing in front of thousands of fans is terrifying.
Interviewer: And would they? Kick you out?
Danny: We’ve grown to be brothers essentially, so I’d hope they wouldn’t. But I can only hope they keep me around as long as the band is around.
Interviewer: But you’re the only one who isn’t a biological brother right?
Danny: Yeah, which is why I feel so fragile in the band. They all have a special bond that I could never have. Kicking out a family member would be much harder than just a close friend. Everyday I’m thankful that I’m still in the band.
Interviewer: Are there any perks to not being a brother?
Danny: Yeah, I mean, I guess I have a form of leverage over them. I can call things out how they are and mediate when necessary. I help things go as smoothly as possible, and I’ve been given the role of the middle man. When it comes down to it, I feel like that’s why they keep me in.
That was all the snippet included. There were no links, no sources, no context. You locked your phone and set it back down on the table.
You felt sad. There was an indescribable pain in your chest that you could only attribute to sadness.
Danny had talked to you about his insecurities with his playing, especially during and after his injury, but he had never expressed something like this. Feeling like he was only still in the band as a peacemaker for the others? It hurt to even imagine him doubting himself that much. He was an amazing drummer and an even better person to be around. He mattered more than he would ever know.
You wondered if the others knew about what was said in this interview. If he didn’t mention it to you, you imagined he hadn’t talked to his band mates about how he was feeling. You didn’t know if you should ask him about it or if you should just act like you hadn’t seen the interview at all.
You felt a stray tear fall from your eye, but you quickly wiped it away. You didn’t realize that you had started crying, and honestly, you didn’t know why you were crying at all. You felt a little helpless in the situation and guilty that you hadn’t noticed any difference until today.
You sat up and brought your knees to your chest. Before you could continue to overthink what you had read, you heard shuffling in the kitchen behind you.
“Bip?” you heard Danny’s groggy voice call out from the darkness.
Your body went stiff, but you turned your head in response. You were thankful that he couldn’t see your tear-stained cheeks.
“Did I wake you?” he whispered. “I’m sorry, I just got thirsty.”
“No, you didn’t wake me, Danny,” you rasped back. His apology caused your guilt to flourish even more. “I can’t sleep.”
He turns on a dim light in the kitchen. It barely lit the room, but it was just enough to be able to barely see in the living room. You heard him turn on the faucet briefly to fill his glass with tap water. “Me neither.”
“Is something wrong?”
He takes a sip before answering with, “Just a long day.” He quietly walks to you. “Care if I sit with you for a bit?”
You weakly smile at him. “Of course not.”
Instead of sitting at the other edge of the couch, he sits on the cushion directly beside you. His body heat prickled your shoulder, and you could’ve swore he was leaning into you a bit. You sat in brief silence, not looking at one another, before you finally started a conversation to keep your mind from drifting to the interview.
“How’s Josh’s hand?”
He let out an airy laugh devoid of any humor. “He’s okay. It’s burnt, but nothing a little Neosporin can’t handle.”
You laugh but wince when you feel a throbbing pain in your head. You were mostly sober at this point, but all of the beers were starting to catch up to you. Danny glanced at you as soon as he heard the noise come out, and his eyes stopped at the table beside you. Earlier, he had set out two painkillers for you to take before you slept to avoid the hangover symptoms. You still hadn’t taken them.
“You really should take those, ya know,” he noted. You could sense the worry in his voice, but you tried to put that out of your mind.
“I’ll be okay,” you said with a smile as you massaged your temples.
“I know you will, but I want you to be okay now. Here.” He handed you the glass of water he had been sipping on. Once you grabbed it from him, he reached across you to the table. You blushed at the feeling of having him so close, draped across you.
He grabbed the two pills and held them out to you. “Please take them. I promise it’ll help. Especially in the morning.” His eyes dig into yours in his best endeavor to persuade you away from your stubbornness.
You took the pills from him and took them with a swig of water. The feeling of being taken care of and looked after was comforting, but you were also embarrassed from being babied.
“Thank you,” Danny said sweetly.
The blush you wore grew as you realized he had dropped his hand to rest right above your knee. You felt his hand twitch slightly once you noticed the placement, but he never moved away from you.
“Thanks, mom,” you tease in an attempt to lighten the nerves inside of you. You think it works until he laughs at the joke and pulls away right after giving a small squeeze. You watch his reaction, secretly proud that you somehow made him genuinely laugh through his sleep deprivation.
Once the laughter dies down, you settle back into silence. You can sense the tension in Danny’s body language. He focuses on his hands as he picks at his cuticles. He licks his lips and clears his throat nervously to prepare his next sentence.
“Thank you, for checking on me today.” His voice had lowered to a whisper again. “Both times, I guess. It felt nice to know someone noticed that something was wrong, but I’m sorry to make you worry.”
You were slightly shocked to hear the openness in his admission. He had seemed so closed-off all day that this was a bit of a change in pace.
“You don’t have to apologize, Danny. You’re my best friend.”
He cracked a smile at you. “And you’re mine.”
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
He nodded. “I know,” he breathed. “I appreciate you so much, Bip.”
He always sensed the times that using that nickname would make you smile. You ran your finger around the rim of his glass that you were still holding. This was another time you wished you knew what he was thinking. This moment didn’t feel completely platonic, but you didn’t want to be the one to bring it up and potentially ruin what friendship you did have.
But you couldn’t deny the obvious feelings blooming for him.
“Sometimes,” he started again, breaking you away from your thoughts. “-it’s a little hard to talk about how I’m feeling, ya know?”
Of course you knew. You knew with every fiber of your being how he was feeling, but you didn’t respond, egging him to go on.
“I’m so used to taking care of other people that it’s difficult to process when others want to take care of me,” he finished.
“The helper needs help too,” you say. “It takes practice to get used to it, but you do so much for me, for all of us. You’ve got to let us reciprocate that.”
You could almost see the gears turning in his head as your words soaked in. He nodded and took a deep breath.
You hesitated before asking. “Do you want to talk about what has been bothering you?” You felt the tension return, and you immediately regretted asking. “You don’t have to-“
“I need to,” he interrupted. He silently sorted through his thoughts, trying to come up with a sentence that described all of his emotions. You could tell he was trying to not talk himself out of the conversation completely. “I don’t feel like I’m part of the band.”
There it was. The thing that has been bothering him for God knows how long. It was finally in the open, and he needed to talk about it.
“W-what? Danny, they love you.”
“They say that, yeah. I just don’t feel it sometimes.” He shifted his concentration to a string that was loose on his shirt. “The guys get front stage, I sit in the back. Sometimes I don’t even get a light that shines on me.” He sighed. “When it comes to concert outfits, the designers rarely even ask for my input because people won’t see me as much. It’s depressing.”
You opened your mouth, but he wasn’t finished.
“I feel like I’m a manager more than anything. I mean…you saw them today in the studio. It’s like that all the time. I didn’t even get a say in anything today, but the only reason they stopped arguing is because I reminded them that they could just use their other riffs and melodies in future songs.” His breath faltered once he cut himself off, and you could hear the tears forming.
You reach over to grab one of his hands away from the string he had been distracting himself with and rested your clasped palms on his leg. It wasn’t until then that he looked up at you.
“Danny, you have got to talk to them about this. I don’t know when, or how, but you need to. I noticed the way they treated you today, and you don’t deserve that. But I also know that they probably don’t realize that what they’re doing is hurting you. They’d want you to speak up.” You end your words by squeezing his hand.
He rubbed his thumb against yours, choosing to forego a verbal response.
“You're their best friend. They would do anything for you, just as you’d do anything for them. They are so lucky to have you, Danny.” Sincerity was dominant in your voice as you corrected yourself. “We are so lucky to have you.”
You two sat, shoulders pressed together, hands clasped as one, for a few silent minutes. You felt at peace knowing that he felt comfortable confiding in you. His fingers being intertwined with yours made you feel connected to him, in more ways than you could describe.
“I- I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”
Of all things, that was not on the list of things you expected to hear come from him. You grin at him to try to mask the butterflies in your belly, which were growing every passing second. You hoped he didn’t take your silence as discomfort because that was far from what you were feeling.
He shifted beside you and started to stand from his place on the couch. The disappointment from the idea of him getting up made your blood run colder than it had been. You frowned to yourself, but quickly straightened your face.
“I could make some tea before I try to go lay back down. It might help the both of us go to sleep,” he chuckled.
And just as fast as your smile faded, it reappeared. He was back to the same ole Danny that cared so deeply for others.
“That sounds great, yeah.”
He started walking towards the kitchen, but he didn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely had to. You heard him laugh softly once your grasps were ripped from one another from the distance growing between you. While he started to make the tea, you thought to yourself, replaying the conversation in your mind while you patiently waited for him to return.
You had already started to drift in and out of sleep by the time he was done making the tea. He tried to lightly set the cup on the table beside you, but the soft clink made your eyes snap open fully.
“Looks like you don’t even need the tea anymore,” he taunts.
A laugh was forced out of you as you yawned. “And let all your hard work go to waste? Never.” You grabbed the cup and sipped away at the warm liquid. The drowsiness you were experiencing only escalated once the chamomile tea entered your system. You two carried on soft whispers of sleepy conversation until you had finished your beverages.
He took the cups to the sink and washed them as quietly as possible. You had rested your head on the back on the couch with heavy eyelids. He was wiping his hands as he hesitantly asked, “Do you…wanna sleep in my bed?”
You couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto your sleepy face. “As long as you’ll let me cuddle you like old times.”
“I don’t see how that benefits you, but I’m always down if you’re offering,” he shrugs and grabs the blanket you had been lying under. There was a baby pink tint on his cheeks that you couldn’t see. “Come on.”
Once you had transported your belongings to his room, you climbed under the warm comforter and blankets. He had turned on a fan, knowing that you slept best with white noise. As promised, he scooted as close to you as he could, his back flush against your chest. You brought one of your arms to rest under your head and play with his hair while the other arm was draped across his waist.
As you let your mind and body rest, you smiled at the familiarity of this position, having done this countless times before during sleepovers and movie nights at your apartment. Though, there was something different about it this time.
He was clutching the hand that you had placed over his belly.
————
>>>part IV
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thank you for reading <3
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rawrmeansmemes · 2 years
Text
Troy (2004) SENTENCE STARTERS
change anything as needed!
They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last.
Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed.
You will never be lovelier than you are now.
We will never be here again.
You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.
You're still my enemy in the morning.
You're still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.
Imagine a king who fights his own battles. Wouldn't that be a sight?
Of all the warlords loved by the gods, I hate him the most.
You are a brave man. I could have your head on a spit in the blink of an eye.
Do you really think death frightens me now?
I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands!
Why did you choose this life?
I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am.
You say you're willing to die for love but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!
Go home, ____. Drink some wine, make love to your wife. Tomorrow, we'll have our war.
Perhaps your brother can comfort them. I hear he's good at charming other men's wives.
I wouldn't be bothering with the shield then, would I?
That's why no-one will remember your name.
Everyone dies, whether today or fifty years from now.
You have your swords. I have my tricks. We play with the toys the gods give us.
All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman and defend your country.
I thought it was you I was fighting yesterday.
Last time you spoke to me like this, you were 10 years old and you'd just stolen Father's horse. What have you done now?
You are free. If I hurt you, it's not what I wanted.
Go. No one will stop you. You have my word.
I thought you were a dumb brute. It would have been easier to forgive a dumb brute!
Your reputation for hospitality is fast becoming legend.
You should not have come here tonight.
Last night was a mistake.
I have made many mistakes this week.
It's too early in the day to be killing princes.
We men are wretched things.
I see you're not hiding behind your high walls. Valiant of you. Ill-advised, but valiant.
You come here uninvited. Go back to your ships and go home.
The sun was shining when your wife left you.
She's up there, watching, isn't she? Good. I want her to watch you die.
I've fought many wars in my time. Some I've fought for land, some for power, some for glory. I suppose fighting for love makes more sense than all the rest.
I walked and I ate and I swam in the sea... I was just a ghost.
You don't have to fear tomorrow... come with me!
If you come, we'll never be safe. Men will hunt us, the gods will curse us, but I'll love you. Until the day they burn my body, I'll love you.
If you sailed any slower the war would be over.
I have heard rumors of your beauty. And for once, the gossip is right.
I don't care about the man's allegiance, I care about his ability to win battles!
You were brave to fight them. You have courage.
To fight back when I'm attacked? A dog has that kind of courage.
We don't need to control him, we need to unleash him. That man was born to end lives.
It's no insult to say a dead man is dead.
Bird signs? You want to plan out strategy based on bird signs?
You sack of wine! Before my time is done, I will look down on your corpse and smile.
The man wants to die!
Is there no one else? Is there no one else?
This war will never be forgotten, nor will the heroes who fight in it.
All those widows. I still hear them screaming. Their husbands died because I'm here.
Your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom.
Peace is for women and the weak.
I can't imagine life without you.
I almost lost this war because of your little romance.
Do you enjoy provoking me?
Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine.
37 notes · View notes
sluttyminghao · 3 years
Text
when at an awards show... | w.jh x h.vc
w.c: 4.2k genre: smut! pairing: junhui x vernon x fem!reader contains: dom!junhui, dom!vernon, sub!reader, cockwarming, degradation kink, praise kink, slight mentions of mirror sex, also a little bit of car sex oop, sex without protection (please wear protection tho), a bit of spitroasting too?  warnings: alcohol mention right at the beginning :) a/n: for my darling @junsol​ on her birthday, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this ily!
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The room was dimly lit and the idol awards show was well underway, but your mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there to support your best friends and their achievements, but you could think of other things you could be doing with your time, rather than sitting for hours on end listening to the hosts ramble on about meaningless topics.
You sighed and looked down at your drink, swirling the orange substance around in the glass before picking it up and taking a large swig, and setting the almost empty glass back down afterwards. The slight burn from the alcohol made shivers run down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile at the warm feeling that spread throughout your veins.
“Hey, are you okay?” A deep voice rumbled from next to you, making your head lift to face whoever was asking. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you let a lopsided grin take over your face when Junhui’s beautiful features came into view. A small smile appeared on his face when you nodded your head slightly, before resting your head on his shoulder.
Junhui was probably the closest to you out of all the band members; he had seen you at your highest points and your lowest and was always the most sincere and genuine towards you. If you were completely honest with yourself as well, you’d probably had the biggest crush on him ever since you had first met. It didn’t help in the slightest that his naturally flirtatious nature made your heartbeat a thousand times faster, and send a blush to your cheeks that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“I just wish I could go home right now,” you pouted, reaching out to play with Junhui’s fingers. He scoffed and lifted your head towards his so that your eyes were peering into his own. “You want to go home? Do you think I want to be here? I’d much rather be back at the dorms with you, snuggled up in my bed,” he retorted, and his words not only brought a blush to your cheeks but also a wave of arousal flowing throughout your body.
The banter between you and Junhui was always like this; bickering with an underlying tone of flirtation that was just enough to make the other members roll their eyes or tell you to take it elsewhere. Only one person didn’t complain about it, Vernon, with whom you were also particularly close. He would always tease you about the flirtatious banter, but his eyes would show hints of jealousy every time he spoke with you afterwards.
It confused you, to say the least.
“You think we would just be snuggled up in bed? I thought for sure you’d want to go further than that,” you replied with a smug smile, making Junhui tense up. He chose to not reply and instead placed a hand on your exposed thigh, squeezing the flesh gently. Your and went to rest atop of his, lacing your fingers through his and sighing softly at the contact.
From across the table, you briefly caught eyes with Vernon, whose expression was unreadable. He cocked a brow at you as if to ask something along the lines of ‘what are you looking at?’ but the small smirk that graced his features told you that his expression meant something else. His eyes darted down to your phone as if to tell you to check your texts, so you picked up your phone and your eyes squinted as they adjusted to the sudden bright light of the screen.
A simple text from Vernon, but it made your whole body heat up as you read and re-read the message. 
‘You’re acting a little bratty right now, trying to impress someone? Or just doing it to be an attention whore?’
Another glance up and you noticed that Vernon had disappeared from his place at the table, and your eyes found him walking towards the bathrooms. Deciding to follow him, you quickly excused yourself and earned a wink from Junhui, before you were making quick steps towards the bathroom in hopes to catch your close friend.
You and Vernon had previously had a small fling that only lasted a few weeks, but your friendship overruled and you mutually decided to remain friends. While you enjoyed being friends with him, you couldn't help the spark of excitement you would feel whenever he let his hand linger on yours, or if he sat a little too close to you when you watched movies. 
He was closer than you thought he was as you made your way down the hallway he had disappeared into, as you were quickly pulled by the arm into an empty room, a small yelp leaving your lips before a hand was covering your mouth, and you panicked even more. “Relax, it’s just me,” Vernon hissed, letting his hand off your mouth and taking his hand off your arm.
“What the hell, man? Why did you drag me into this room-” your complaints and worries were immediately cut off by Vernon pressing his lips to yours hurriedly, pulling your body flush against his own. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his neck and let yourself melt into his touch, making a smug smirk pull to his lips. 
“I love your lips. You taste amazing, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered between kisses, letting his hands fall from your waist to your ass and squeezing. You could only sigh softly against his mouth in response before he was pressing himself to your mouth again, letting his tongue press against yours and meld as if you were one person.
He tasted vaguely of peppermints, and you couldn’t say you didn't like it.
Vernon pulled away from you briefly, letting you both catch your breath while he adjusted his suit. “Well, that was hot, have room for one more?” another voice filtered through the room and made both you and Vernon jump before you both turned to see Junhui leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow cocked and his lips upturned into a smirk. He walked towards you both, and you couldn't help but feel small under his burning gaze.
“I-it’s not what it looks like,” you began, letting your body back up against the wall. The older man laughed and rolled his eyes, before moving quickly to stand in front of you, while Vernon stared at him slack-jawed. “Sure, you say that, but I saw the text that Vernon sent you and it looks pretty suspicious if you ask me,” he chuckled, holding your phone out to you between his thumb and middle finger. You couldn’t help the burn that covered your cheeks and spread throughout your body.
“What are you even doing here?” Vernon questioned, putting his hands in his pockets and looking towards his friend. “I volunteered to come and look for you both since you’d be gone for a while, and I’ve gotta say, it looks like you two were having some fun though,” Jun let one of his hands reach out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, only making your skin burn up once more.
“And why would you care, hm? I don't think whatever we decide to do is your business… But if you're so curious, yeah, we were having a great time.” You began, studying his face to see how he would react, quickly glancing at Vernon from over your shoulder, who did nothing but look at you with a smirk filled with amusement before you bit your lip and winked at him, just to tease Junhui. "I couldn't help it, Junnie… Vernon has such hot and warm lips… Whenever I see him, I can't control myself. He's such a good kisser, makes my head spin." You sighed, feeling your body go warm just thinking about it. “And also, although you're so handsome and hot yourself, you're just bark and no bite. I doubt you could ever gather the courage to put me on my knees like him." You pouted, grazing your pointer finger over the side of his neck, his eyes following your every action. "He can make me submit to him in a heartbeat, he knows how to be in charge… But you? Junnie… You're just my soft, flirty friend, aren't you?” You spoke cockily, making Junhui’s brows furrow in clear annoyance.
The room fell silent for a few beats before Junhui was walking forward and pressing his body against yours, large hand squeezing your cheeks and forcing your face up to meet his dark, lustful orbs and letting his breath fan across your neck.
"I can see you're testing your luck tonight, baby. You have such a sharp tongue." He spoke darkly, a breathy chuckle erupting from his throat as the pads of his fingers wandered from your jaw, to down your neck and collarbones, setting your skin aflame. "I never thought our first time would be like this, I must admit… But since you're having such an attitude, I might as well teach you that you shouldn't use that pretty mouth for anything other than sucking on my dick as soon as I ask you to."
Your breathing became hitched as he let his lips skim across your jaw, and you wondered if he had locked the door before he came inside. Vernon kept watching the scene in front of him, secretly loving the bickering between the two of you.
“Did you lock the door?” You asked breathily, your fingers brushing through Junhui’s soft strands of hair. You knew where this was going.
“Now where’s the fun in that? Maybe I want people to walk in here and see how much of a mess you are once we’re done with you,” his voice was like velvet as he spoke, and sent shivers cascading down your spine. It was no secret how aroused he was already, feeling his rock hard cock pressing against your stomach, but to be fair, you weren't any better.
You could hardly form a coherent sentence towards him when he nipped at your skin, a pretty pink mark blooming where his teeth had been. His nimble fingers moved your dress straps down your arms and exposed your breasts, a low whistle coming from his lips at the sight. “God, how have I gone this long without seeing these gorgeous breasts of yours?” He hissed under his breath, immediately dipping his head down to nip at the buds.
~~~~
Vernon stood a few feet away from you, feeling his erection grow when he saw how your body reacted to Junhui’s actions. He couldn’t help himself but to move forward and let his hands reach out to play with the bud of your free breast, making a whine spill past your lips. “You look so pretty like this, you’re so hot,” he murmured, and your skin burned at the compliment, making both men chuckle.
“Now, we don’t have a lot of time in here, doll, so let’s make this quick. I want you to come and sit your pretty ass on this couch and pull your dress up for me,” Junhui whispered the words against your lips, making heat pool in your abdomen, and you felt as if your legs were jelly when you finally made your way to the couch he was referring to. 
You made quick work of pulling up your dress, feeling more exposed than ever in front of your two best friends. The lust clouding your mind overthrew those feelings, and it wasn’t long before Junhui was kneeling in front of you, a small smile hanging on his face. He let his lips linger over the top of yours, captivating your senses and your being until you couldn’t take the pressure and pressed your lips to his heatedly. There was a clash of teeth and tongue and he took the opportunity to slide his hand down and play with your soaking folds, eliciting a gasp from you and the men couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Look at how needy you are for us, and we’ve hardly even done anything,” Vernon chuckled, letting his hands roam across your upper body while Junhui pulled away and focused on your swollen bud. You didn’t even have the chance to react to their ministrations before Junhui was letting his tongue dart out to collect your juices. A loud moan passed your lips but was silenced quickly by Vernon placing a hand over your mouth. “Can’t be too loud here, babe, we don’t want to get caught now, do we?”
With the way they were both teasing you, it wasn’t long until you were on the brink of orgasm and begging for a release. “P-please...need to cum!” Your pleas were muffled by Vernon’s large palm still, and he gave you a stern look that said that if you were to cum, they wouldn’t let you cum again. “Just relax, baby, don’t cum yet and you’ll get a bigger reward afterwards,” Junhui cooed, sucking little love bites into the skin of your inner thigh.
It took all of your willpower to not cum, and they finally cut you some slack when they both pulled away from you, letting you catch your breath. You whined as your powerful orgasm ebbed away, but it wasn’t long until another flow of arousal was coating your inner thighs as you watched both men pull their cock out of their suit pants and pumped, letting small pearlescent beads of pre-cum gather on the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you just knew that no matter who was inside of you, you’d end up walking funny for at least three days.
“Ass up in the air sweetheart, see that mirror that’s hanging on the wall there?” Junhui tilted his head in the direction of the floor-length mirror, which you had seemingly missed in your hurry to get their lips on you. You nodded and turned your head back to Junhui, who smirked and shifted your body so that you were facing the mirror, and you could see how truly fucked out you had become from these two men.
Vernon situated himself behind you and smoothed a hand down your back, making sure that you were in a comfortable position and wouldn’t get too many marks on your body to seem suspicious. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and you couldn’t help but wiggle your ass at him and whine loudly, getting impatient.
“Please fuck me! I’ve been so good for you, I’ll even suck your dick later!” You pleaded, giving him the best possible puppy dog eyes you could muster up in your given position. Without a warning, he had thrust the tip of his cock into you, before pulling out in a teasing manner. You whined even louder, letting your frustrations be known to both of the men, before Junhui finally stepped in front of you, cock in hand. “I know a good way to get you to shut up, whore, open up that pretty mouth for me and get to work,” he spat, letting his pre-cum stain your lips before pushing the tip inside of your welcoming mouth, bobbing eagerly up and down the first half of his erection.
While you focussed your attention on Junhui’s cock inside of your mouth, Vernon took the opportunity to slide his cock the rest of the way inside of you, your moans and whines of appreciation reverberating around Junhui’s cock and in turn, letting a hiss leave Junhui’s lips. “Fuck, your mouth feels amazing,” he murmured, thrusting his hips into your mouth and causing you to choke on his thick cock. Vernon’s hips never let up inside of you either, thrusting deep inside of you and hitting all of the right places. A small glance into the mirror showed tears running down your face and your makeup ruined, but neither of the boys seemed to care. 
You were going to be in so much trouble after this.
Vernon’s cock was thick and long, and with the way he was thrusting erratically, he brought you to orgasm relatively quickly and sending you into a spiral of incoherent babbles and leg spasms. You had also taken the time to deepthroat Junhui’s cock, taking as much of him as possible and doing your best to stroke any remaining shaft that you couldn’t take. The feelings were becoming too much, and your mouth was becoming slack. 
“Fuck, she’s getting tighter, I think she’s gonna cum,” Vernon rasped, spanking your ass before doubling his pace, making a cry fall from your lips as the feelings of your orgasm began to wash over you. Your vision turned white as your orgasm turned your body rigid, Junhui’s cock fell from your lips and you couldn’t stop the moans from escaping you, even more so when you heard Vernon’s loud groan as he came too, filling your walls with his hot cum.
When you finally regained your vision, you saw Junhui smiling softly at you, and wiping your cheek to rid it of some of your mascara. “You did so well, sweetheart, so well for us,” he hummed, letting you rest for a while before helping you to stand. 
When you stared at your gaze in the mirror, you knew that if you bumped into anyone on the way back to the table, that they would instantly know what you had been up to. While Vernon adjusted himself in his boxers and fixed up his suit, you glanced over at Junhui, who very clearly still had a raging erection since you didn’t get to finish him off.
“Don’t you wanna cum too?” You asked him, letting your palm land against his clothed erection and begin to rub gently. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh through his nose, holding back on a groan before opening his eyes again and reaching for your hand. “I do, so badly, but I wanna be inside of you, and I have a plan, don’t worry,” he replied, kissing the palm of your hand before helping you to straighten your dress and fix up your hair so it doesn’t look like you had just been fucked in a random room at an awards show.
Carefully, you all walked back out to the ceremony and noticed that they were wrapping up with a performance from a rookie group. You sighed as you took a seat, and brushed off everyone’s confused and concerned glances thrown around the table. “We thought you got lost!” Chan piped up, a chuckle leaving your lips at his somewhat innocent demeanour. “We were just worried, that’s all, you didn’t even tell anyone where you were!” Seungcheol commented, a concerned look present on his face even with the dim lighting of the room.
“I’m fine! I think I did get lost in the hallways, there’s so many of them,” you stated nervously, scratching at the back of your head. Junhui had resumed his earlier position with his hand on your thigh, but this time it was sitting higher up, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I can’t wait for this to be over so I can have you all for myself,” he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 
“What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.”
~~~~~~
 You don’t know how he managed to do it, but somehow, in some way, Junhui had managed to secure you sitting on his lap on the way home, as dangerous as it was. “Isn’t this illegal?” You spoke hurriedly, not even having the opportunity to choose somewhere else before the van was moving off. “I mean, probably, but you won’t be complaining soon,” he retorted, a cheeky smile covering his face.
From the angle you were sitting on his lap, you could feel his rock hard erection pressing against your ass. You wiggled around a little to tease him, but when he gripped your hips with an iron-like force, you halted, knowing he was about to return the same energy to you.
With quick movements, he had lifted you off his lap a little, freed his cock from their confines before shifting your dress and panties to the side. Without warning, he sunk you back down onto his cock, and you had to try your absolute hardest to stifle your moan. Luckily, Vernon was sitting next to Junhui and was having the time of his life, watching you try to contain your moans.
“Now, you’re gonna sit on my cock back to the dorms, and if you cum at all, we get to punish you, got it?” He teasingly whispered into your ear, and you could feel his chest moving back and forth with the way he lightly chuckled. 
He knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you.
It also wasn’t made any easier when Vernon managed to slip his hand underneath your dress and find your swollen bud with ease, drawing slow circles onto it and making your legs twitch. “V-Vernon...please…” you whispered out, earning a low groan from Junhui as you bumped against his cock. “Fuck, stay still if you know what’s good for you,” he moaned out, only earning a whimper from you in response. With the way that Vernon’s nimble fingers were pressing to your clit, and the feeling of Junhui’s thick cock filling you up in all the best ways, you could feel your orgasm impending and it was beginning harder to maintain control over yourself.
“I-I…” you managed to stutter out, before it was too late and you could feel your orgasm washing over you, your juices running down Junhui’s cock and your thighs and getting onto his pants. He hissed at the way you tightened around him and wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you on his cock, thrusting up into you lightly so it wasn’t obvious to anyone else in the car. You rode out your high and immediately felt your cheeks burn, and looked up to see Vernon feigning disappointment.
“I guess we need to teach you a lesson then, don’t we? But first, Junhui wants something from you,” Vernon spoke lowly, nodding his head to the man behind you. You weakly turned your head around and saw his dark eyes pooling with desire, and you knew he was only moments away from his breaking point. “As soon as this car stops and everyone is out, I’m going to be fucking you so hard into this car seat you won’t be able to walk inside.”
You gulped and took note of where you were, less than 5 minutes away from the dorm and you couldn’t help but feel excited over the prospect of having both of your best friends cum inside of you. He kept you situated on his cock, seemingly having an innocent conversation with Vernon while you tried to remain as quiet as possible. It became increasingly difficult, especially with speed bumps making you bounce up and down on his cock, but you finally made it back to the dorms, almost on the brink of yet another orgasm. 
The three of you watched as everyone filed out of the van, making sure everyone was out before the door was pulled shut and Junhui had immediately flipped you over, pounding into you as if his life depended on it. He had given you no warning, and the moans and whimpers were flying out of your mouth like a mantra. “God you’re so fucking tight, look how well your pussy takes my cock,” he groaned out, slamming his hips into yours repeatedly. By now, Vernon had taken his cock out and was stroking it languidly, his bottom lip pulled in by his teeth to prevent any noise from falling out.
“I’m gonna fill you up, sweetheart, gonna pump my cum into you and make you walk inside with it,” he whispered, loving how your eyes rolled back into your head at his comment. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and it only took another few moments of him praising you that he too, came inside of you with a loud groan. A hand flew down to rub your clit in fast circles, sending you over the edge once more with a loud cry into Junhui’s palm.
Your breathing was erratic as he pulled out, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Vernon had found a tissue to cum inside of and was casually tossing it into his pants pockets and getting himself back into his pants. Junhui had done the same to himself and was slowly placing your clothes back into their rightful positions so that they sat properly. 
“That was...amazing,” you breathed, sitting up and cringing slightly at the feeling of their cum dripping down your thighs. Both of the men nodded and hummed in agreement, before opening the door of the van. “I think that we should continue this inside though, I still have a little bit of energy to burn,” Junhui commented, earning a scoff from Vernon and a slap from you, but you couldn’t say it didn’t turn you on. “What did you have in mind?” You spoke up, earning surprised glances from both of them before their eyes turned dark once more.
“Why don’t you come inside and find out, sweetheart?” 
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Text
the right direction | pjs
↬ series: tatts & cupcakes | chapter 15 ↬ pairing: park jongseong / jay x reader ft. all members ↬ genre: enhypen single dad au | ceo!jay | single dad!jay | baker!reader | single mom!reader | fluff ↬ navi: beginning | previous chapter | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.8k ↬ a/n (1/2):
final chapter of tatts & cupcakes my loves !! 
Days turned to weeks which turned to months and ultimately a few years went by. In the past few years you officially became Jay’s girlfriend, Ni-ki learned that he had two dads, and Sunoo and Jungwon were more than happy to call you their mom. But despite this, there was always a lingering worry in the back of your head. What if one day, Jay decided that the trouble of loving you and Ni-ki was no longer worth it to him? What if Sunoo and Jungwon no longer wanted you as their mom or Ni-ki as their younger brother? But today those worries would be put to rest forever. As you looked at yourself in the mirror wearing the dress you had chosen for yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers, the sound of your name being called causes you to turn around to see Heeseung and Jake walking up to you with a grin on their faces.
“Jay’s gonna be a wreck when he sees you,” Heeseung said.
“Ten bucks says he’ll cry,” Jake adds in, nudging the older with his elbow. You can’t help but roll your eyes at the two and ask,
“Is everyone here already?”
“Yeah, they’re all sitting down. Sunghoon’s trying to calm Jay down though, I’ve never seen him this nervous before,” Jake replies. Dressed in their suits, Sunoo and Jungwon run up to you. While planning your wedding, you and Jay decided that Sunoo and Jungwon would walk you down the aisle while Ni-ki stood next to Jay. After Heeseung and Jake jokingly told you that there was still a way out if you wanted to leave, you stood behind the door with Sunoo and Jungwon holding your hand. When the doors opened and you took your first step, you the wedding march played. Despite all the people watching you, the nervousness was washed away and replaced with excitement. The only thing you could focus on was the sight of Jay and the feel of the two hands holding yours. You see Heeseung handing Jake what you can only assume to be a $10 bill, causing you to have to hold back a slight laugh. Step by step, you walked with Sunoo and Jungwon until you finally stood in front of the man who would be your husband. Sunoo and Jungwon head to your side while you see Ni-ki with the biggest smile on his face. You wipe away Jay’s tears, something that he’s done for you more times than you can count but today, the roles were switched.
“I love you.” You had said it in hopes of calming him down but it only seemed to have the opposite effect as he cried even harder. You felt lightheaded, palms sweaty, and the butterflies in your stomach felt as if they were doing cartwheels. Finally,
“You may now kiss the bride.” Not even a full second later you felt Jay pull you close and his lips on yours. He deepened the kiss slightly, but still mindful of the people in the audience watching you both. Jay’s arms settled around your waist while pressing a kiss to the top of your head,
“Thank you for giving us a chance,” you hear him whisper.
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While you and Jay were unpacking boxes into the new house the five of you decided on, Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki were in the living room. The house had more than enough rooms for the boys to have their own but they chose to share one. In the meantime, the other rooms were turned into guest rooms. While watching them chatting and playing amongst each other, Jay’s presence makes itself known to your body with the feel of him behind you and his embrace surrounding you,
“We’re home,” you say as you hold Jay’s hands. You feel him playing with the wedding ring on your left hand and despite not directly looking at him, you just know that he’s smiling. While resting his head on your shoulder,
“Anywhere is home with you and our boys.” You turn around to face him,
“Y’know… our boys have been talking about wanting a cat lately.” Cringe washes over Jay’s face at the thought of a cat in the house,
“I’m allergic to cats.”
“What about a dog instead?” you ask, voice sounding more excited than you meant it to. Jay raises his eyebrow in suspicion,
“Is this something they want or something you want?”
“I’d like to think that this is a family necessity.”
“Dogs are just agents of capitalism,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 
“At least think about it first before saying no.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it.”
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Jay’s “YAHHHH” in the morning (which the entire neighborhood probably heard) wakes you up and gets you out of bed. Still sleepy, you drag a blanket with you. When you walk to the living room, you’re met with the sight of Ni-ki clinging onto Jay’s leg, Sunoo watching everything while munching on some bread you baked just last night, and Jungwon carrying Maeumi, your recently adopted dog in his arms.
“Jungwon-ah, give me the dog,” Jay says sternly and gritting his teeth. When Jungwon sees you, he immediately runs behind you but on his face, you can see a mischievous smirk. Patting Jungwon’s head and looking at Jay,
“Babe, what happened?”
“The little agent of capitalism chewed on the cables in my office!” You can’t help but laugh, while now petting Maeumi’s head,
“It’s kinda your fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” Jay sighs, most likely thinking of ways to find inner peace,
“D-don’t tell me you’re taking the dog’s side right now?”
“Of course I am.”
“You really love the dog more than me?” With a teasing smile,
“Of course I do.”
“I never should’ve agreed to adopting the dog if it was just gonna become number one in your heart,” he muttered.
“Our boys and Maeumi are number one to me, you’re second,” you corrected.
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Following the next few weeks, you noticed that Maeumi was closer and clinger to you than normal. Maeumi would settle by your stomach when you sat on the couch or lay on your lap and you couldn’t help but wonder why. But then, it hit you.
You had been slightly moodier.
You felt a little queasy in the mornings.
And you were late.
When you realized what the possibility was, you headed to the bathroom. The morning of the day K came back into your and Ni-ki’s life, you were sick and Jay took care of you. He bought a ton of medicine and somehow, a pregnancy test got added into the mix. You weren’t sure why, but you had kept it after all this time. While waiting for the results of the test, thousands of thoughts were running through your mind as nervousness coursed through your veins. Were you and Jay even ready for a baby? Well... you had three kids already but a newborn? Having another child was a conversation that hadn’t yet come up after getting married, moving into the new house, and adopting Maeumi. After all, Jay was running his company while you were running the bakery. But when the test was finally ready and the two lines set in tears of happiness began to pour from your eyes. That night when Jay came home and you were all eating dinner you wanted to tell them right then and there but decided that it’d be better to tell them after getting confirmation from the doctor. Which was exactly what you did the next day.
“Congratulations!” the doctor said to you as she showed you the screen of the ultrasound. She printed out a couple of pictures for you to keep and you bought some decorations to surprise Jay tonight. After closing the bakery early and picking up the boys from school,
“When we get home, do you guys wanna help Eomma decorate the living room?” you asked after heading into the house.
“Is today a special day?” Jungwon asked, eyes wide and curiously looking up at you. You nodded and took out the picture to show them,
“You guys are going to have a little brother or sister in a few months.”
“Really? I won’t be the maknae anymore?” Ni-ki asked, eyes full of hope.
“Yup, you’ll be an oppa or a hyung now!”
“Wahh, can I eat tteokbeokki with our new dongsaeng?” came from Sunoo.
“When they get older, of course you can! Now, let’s get to decorating so we can surprise Appa, ok?” You were met with a chorus of excited “yes, Eomma!” and with that, decorating and getting ready to surprise Jay when he got home began.
The house was dark when Jay got home, causing him to wonder where you and the boys were.
“Love?” he called out.
No answer.
“Sunoo-ah?”
Nothing.
“Jungwon-ah?”
Nada.
“Ni-ki-ah?”
He swore he could’ve heard crickets chirping. Desperate for any answer,
“Yah! Agent of capitalism, where are you?” That garnered an answer as the light tapping of Maeumi’s feet on the floor met his ears and Maeumi was now in front of him. He picked up Maeumi and walked further into the house. Turning on the light in the living room and suddenly being met with,
“SURPRISE!”  
“YAH, YOU SCARED ME!” he yelled as he stumbled back, and fell onto the floor. The boys instantly piled themselves on top of Jay in excitement but he looked at you with slight fear in his eyes,
“It’s not our anniversary, is it? Did I forget?” he asked. You shook your head,
“No, you didn’t forget anything. But we have a surprise for you.”
“And that is?” You handed Jay a small box in which you put a “dad of five kids” mug (Maeumi included even if Jay didn’t want to admit it), a picture of the ultrasound, and your pregnancy test. Jay looked at the cup in confusion but when he looked at the other contents of the box, it finally registered in his head. He held the ultrasound by its corner as if he were scared it’d turn to dust or get wrinkled.
“We’re having a baby?” His eyes were shining when he looked at you, you were unsure if it was because of the tears forming in his eyes or the happiness, maybe it was both.
“Mhm, we’re having a baby.”
“Wait isn’t this the test that I bought like, years ago?”
“I told you it’d come in handy one day.” All of a sudden, Jay was hugging you and practically sobbing in your shoulder,
“I love you. So, so, so much. I don’t think words can do my feelings justice. I just, I love you.” Returning Jay’s hug while rubbing his back,
“What do you want it to be?” you asked curiously. In Jay’s head flashed to the daydreams of a little girl running around a house, that little girl being half-you, half-him. But in this moment, he didn’t care if it was a girl, a boy, or whatever it’d choose to identify as in the future.
“Healthy, as long as it’s healthy I couldn’t care less.” You smiled at Jay’s response, hugging him tighter. You knew that being with Jay, trusting him, loving him, it truly was the right direction.
↬ final tatts & cupcakes a/n:
this is the end of tatts & cupcakes and wow has it been a rollercoaster !! i don’t know how to feel about this series ending since it was by first baby (is it weird to say that? idk but anyways) i'll be honest with yall, this series was a product of my procrastination... it was around 1 am and i just didn’t want to do any of my work so i just thought to myself, “let’s write a fic with jay as a single dad” because why not ?? initially, it was going to be a oneshot but then i realized writing it as a oneshot wasn’t the best option for me because one, i needed to get my work done at some point lmao and two, it’d just be way too long so i ended up writing the first chapter, read it over a bit, posted it, and tatts & cupcakes was born !! i didn’t think that the series would get this far with the storyline and there were a few times when i thought about discontinuing it due to things like school, thinking it wasn’t interesting enough, other responsibilities, etc., but then i started getting notifs related to the series and writing became the better parts of my weeks so thank you everyone !! for those who have read until this part and decided to give my writing a chance and for all the love that this series has received, thank you so much !! i hope that it’s been written well enough to be a series actually worth spending time on to read 🥺
even though this series is ending, i do have some happy news !! i’ve started a new one called cameras & caffeine the pairing for this series is cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader cameras & caffeine is similar to tatts & cupcakes in how reader is also a single mother there so if you’re interested check it out here :)
once again, thank you so so much for taking the time out of your day to read tatts & cupcakes and i hope you’ve enjoyed !!
~ riri 💞
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taglist: @dear-dreamie​​ | @jay-ke​​ | @sunoosh1ne​​ | @unvrseung​​ | @lost-lepord-beaniewrites​ | @koufaxx​ | @ifvjay​ | @sunshineshouchan​ | @sjycty​ | @poutypoutybin​ | @crjwon​ | @shesin-therain​ | @markleepooh​ | @alice-adi​ | @mooni-a-multi​ 
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❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi
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chiliiscereal · 3 years
Note
Prompt idea: the turtles with a friend or s/o that sleep walks.
Turtles with and S/o that sleepwalks
———-
So I based this off how my cousin sleep walks hope you don’t mind :)
Raph:
-home boy freaked out the first time he saw you sleepwalk
-he was up at night getting some cake but when he saw you walking by HO HO BOY did he jump out of his skin
-no one else was awake and you practically materialized out of the shadows!
-he eventually calmed down enough to realize that you weren’t awake
-I mean, it wasn’t exactly obvious
-you sort of walked around aimlessly a while mumbling
-that wasn’t really something sleeping people did..
-“babe, what’re you doin’ up? It’s 1 in the morning!”
-“I gotta put the salami CD’s in the chicken coop”
-“umm.. what?”
-once it finally clicked he didn’t exactly know what he should do
-was it a myth that you weren’t supposed to wake up a sleepwalking person?
-was there some sort of side affect?
-instead of intervening he just sort of sat at the table and watched
-he didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong but he also didn’t want you to get hurt
-he found himself getting up a couple of times when he thought you were gonna run into a table, moving it out of the way at lightning speed
-Other than that you were fine
-you simply walked back into your room and shut the light off
-he asked about it the next morning and you told him you sleep walk if you’re really tired
-and, sadly, being in highschool meant that you were tired all the time
-apparently you’d done it since you were little and you were used to it by now
-Raph didnt exactly know what he should do about it
-you told him you were fine and that he should leave you be, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you
-he decided the best course of action was to help behind the scenes
-that meant making sure you didn’t stay up late
-if you slept walked when you were really tired then he’d stop you from that state of feeling
-he had an alarm set for when he’d start hinting that it was bedtime
-he’s unplug the WiFi if you didn’t get the message (subtly of course) and then he’d turn around and tell you that the WiFi always got spotty when it was late
-he’d even stay up a little later to see if you were going to sleep walk
-if not then he’d head straight to bed
-but sometimes you still did it
-he’d found the best option was to just pick you up and place you back in your room
-“but the salami CD’s...”
-“they’ll still be there in the morning.”
-he’d pull you close to him and let you snuggle in close, the two of you sitting on your
-he always left before you woke up though
-yet you knew he had been there
-it was hard not to know when you woke up with a huge dip in the other side of your bed
-the two of you had a system and it worked
Donnie:
-Donnies already up and working by the time you start walking around
-the thing is, he didn’t realize you weren’t awake for probably an hour
-you were just walking from room to room and occasionally picking things up
-he was used to you being up late in his defense
-but when you ignored him or started mumbling... yeah that ripped him off
-“babe can you pass me the screwdriver?”
-“no, the radishes aren’t condensed.”
-“...I’m sorry?”
“Radishes.”
“Are you even awake?”
“I gotta go condense the radishes before Mikey finds out.”
-this boy was educated on the sleepwalking in a matter of seconds via research
-he knew you needed the rest so he never woke you up
-instead, he would find wherever you were walking around and have you stay in his room while he worked
-you never broke anything and it was nice to not be alone in a way
-besides your sleepwalking never lasted for long
-often it ended with you wandering over to him and slumping against his shoulder
-that meant he got to hold you while the night was quiet and peaceful
-the next morning you always woke back up in your own bed
-Donnie denied that he ever had anything to do with your sleepwalking
-but all you had to do was test it out to find the truth
-you walked into his room without a word one night and he didn’t even seem surprised
-“you good babe?”
-you chose not to say anything, you just kept walking
-“how are those condensed radishes doing?”
-you didn’t know what that meant but you assumed it was something you said in your sleep
-“you’re awfully quiet tonight. Usually you don’t stop talking.”
-you sit down beside him and place your head on his shoulder
-boy doesn’t even hesitate in pulling you closer and going back to work
-you don’t bother telling him that you know
-it’s nice to have someone looking out for you
Leo:
-oh he found out the first time you slept walked
-even brought it up casually the next morning
-he has insomnia so anything that happens after hours he’s already aware of it
-for the first few nights it was him joking about the cause being something supernatural
-he stopped when he thought you were getting offended though
-he diiiiid however say you were the sleep to his insomnia
-he can’t sleep at night and nothing can wake you up!
-you two balance each other out!
-and believe me, he has TRIED to wake you up to no avail
-doesn’t matter if it’s a loud noise or shaking your shoulder, nothing will wake you up
-unfortunately, since he’s always awake, he gets to see everything you do while wandering around
-AND he gets to see it while recording
-he’s got videos and videos of the random nonsense that comes out of your mouth
-and if he ever finds you cleaning in your sleep heaven knows he’s gonna find a way for you to take care of some of his chores to
-“come on, babe! You were already folding clothes! What’s a few extra?”
-he does find himself having to emergency portal you at times
-like the time you nearly walked off the skate ramp
-he portalled you into his arms as quick as he could
-“who decides to put a skate ramp right where people can fall down it?” He’s mumbling as he carries you back to his room
-having you there helps his insomnia very much
-in a way you’re both helping each other
Mikey:
-took the longest time to realize you sleepwalk
-if took him a whole two months
-usually you stayed in your own room
-he only realized when you walked into his room started picking up his art supplies while he was painting
-usually when he was painting you would plop down beside him and ask him questions (all during the day)
-but now you were picking up brushes and mumbling about how you needed to save the tomato’s before the bear ate them all
-poor baby ran to Donnie, thinking you were sick or delusional
-his older brother casually explained that it’s probably just sleep walking and he calmed down
-he was a little freaked out but grew used to it after a couple more night of it
-doesn’t really understand why you sometimes do normal things in your sleep like cleaning or fixing a sandwich
-still finds himself helping you out though
-he’ll be right next to you, folding clothes or passing you the mayo
-recently he found out he can ask you questions and get pretty funny answers
-“do you prefer hot dogs, hamburgers, or pizza?”
-“soggy bread.”
-“That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
-always keeps you updated the next morning
-it embarrassed you to no end
-he didn’t need to hear all that stuff!
-one night he asked a less casual question
-“so how do you feel about Mikey?”
-“I would eat a thousand soggy breads for Mikey if he asked.”
-“r-really?”
-“of course. I love him!”
-that was the first time you openly said you loved him
-honestly his heart stopped for a few seconds
-he brought it up that next morning and no, you wouldn’t eat a thousand soggy breads if he asked
-but yes, you loved him to pieces
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withcolebrock · 4 years
Text
I Drew That
Corpse Husband x fem!reader
Summary: Corpse finds out that Y/N has a drawing of him as her background
Warnings: swearing :)
Word Count: 1,818
Author’s Note: I’ve spent weeks trying to write this piece :/ I just couldn’t find a way to make it how I wanted it if that makes sense but I tried my best. This idea was very cute because I can totally see this happening lol. Especially with like the whole flirty voice thing Corpse has been doing with like Brentman and like James and stuff haha. I hope you guys enjoy it!!
~~~
Tonight was one of the many nights that she was playing Among Us. It had taken over her life, a flood of success followed her once she had played with Sean and Felix. She had gained over two hundred thousand subscribers on her YouTube channel. It had changed her life for the better, in many ways.
For the last three rounds, it had been strict imposter wins. Felix won two of those. Everyone was shocked when it was him the second time, Felix was getting great at the game. The group then decided to switch lobbies because Felix was throwing a fit about getting imposter too much. It was the usual group of Felix, Sean, Poki, Rae, Sykkuno, Leslie, Toast, Dave, Corpse, and Y/N.
Over the last few months everyone in the group had gotten a lot closer. Especially Corpse and Y/N. After the first time they played together, a lobby Sean had created, they had talked for hours after the first game they played. This had continued almost every time they had played  Most of the time, Corpse would be editing his videos while talking with her. It calmed him as he worked. She would be working on her art or scrolling through Pinterest or Tumblr.
They had even FaceTimed several times, where Corpse revealed his face to her. He made a big deal out of it, saying a whole monologue before he turned the camera to his face. She followed in pursuit being very dramatic as well. Whenever they would talk he would play her his music, waiting to see if she liked it. She loved any song he put out, despite it not being her usual music taste.
One night she was scrolling through Tumblr and found an artist who was drawing Among Us players with their little characters. One particular character made her smile and her heart flutter slightly. It was an amazing drawing of Corpse and his little character sitting on his shoulder. It was an art style she was familiar with, she loved supporting smaller artists. It was the cutest thing she has ever seen. Weirdly, it perfectly described him. She loved it so much, she decided to keep it as her phone Wallpaper.
The round started on Mira, where Y/N was a crewmate again. Throughout the whole night, she still hasn’t gotten imposter. “Dammit,” she groaned at the screen. She stood still at the start of the map, waiting to see if anyone would fake tasks at the start. Everyone ran off, not doing them. She quickly followed.
After a long thirty seconds lights get shut off. She ignores the emergency and continues doing her tasks, she stood by the vending machine when Felix killed her. “It’s fucking Felix again!” she leaned back in her chair groaning. She covered her face with her hands. “He’s gotta stop killing me first,” she shook her head. She tried to hide how annoyed she was.
Her body was called by Poki, she was the only dead one. “Oh my god,” Poki said once the screen popped up.
“Y/N no!” Rae yelled, “You guys, she’s died first the last three rounds,”
“Wait really? Oh Jesus, sorry Y/N,” Sykkuo said, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.
“I’ll protect you next round, Y/N, I promise,” Corpse said. Y/N tried to hide her smile and the heat rushing to her cheeks.
“We’ll avenge you, Y/N!” Sean yelled. Soon after everyone grieved her death they began asking each other where they were. Everyone had a solid alibi making it impossible for them to figure out who did it.
“Guys, guys, Y/N died first the last three rounds right?” Toast started, everyone hummed, “Who was imposter these past few rounds?” he explained. Everyone gasped.
“You really think I would kill her first three rounds in a row?” Felix tried to defend himself as the voting time clock turned red.
“You’ve done it twice already!” Sean yelled, voting Felix. Felix was saved since half of the group skipped. She floated around the map trying to get her tasks done quickly so she could talk to her chat without holding back the rest of the group.
She glanced towards her chat, reading a few questions, she shifted her gaze to the game and thought about the questions. “I’ve been working on a cute little animation for you guys, I might do another art stream with you guys. Only if you guys want it, of course.” she read through a few more questions while answering them, while she waited for the meetings to end.
Once all of her tasks were done, she began to talk about her art and fanart. “Yeah, there’s an artist on Tumblr, they are amazing, they deserve so much more recognition,”  she explained as she showed them her lock screen with the drawing of Corpse; without thinking about her chat being curious as to why it was him. Turning her phone back towards her, her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.
The chat began to flood in with questions, begging Y/N to tell them why she had Corpse’s drawing as her background. She chose to ignore the question and continue talking about her own art and showing fan art. Despite trying to change the subject, she sighed dramatically. “Chat, there’s no reason why Corpse’s character is my background, the artist is just good, stop talking about it,” she giggled as the victory screen popped up on her screen.
“Felix what the fuck!” she unmuted in discord. He began laughing as he began to defend his actions. “No, no it doesn’t matter if I know your liar voice, Felix-” After about five minutes of everyone talking the next round started. She was a crewmate again, “I feel like I’m bugged,” she groaned as she started running around doing her tasks. Corpse’s little black character was following her.
“Looks like I got myself a little body guard,” she smiled as she spoke. They walked passed the medbay room, as Corpse moved his character dramatically. She rolled her eyes as they both walked into the medbay room. She didn’t have medbay, but she sat waiting for Corpse to finish. They continued doing tasks together until a body was called. It was Sean’s.
“Y/N’s cleared I was with her the entire time,” Corpse said confidently into his mic. She said the same about him. Poki was acting a little weird during the call, which made Y/N a little suspicious of her.
~~~
When the lights were shut off Corpse was killed by Poki, and he groaned as his body was killed immediately. Poki called out Y/N right away, saying that she was with Corpse the whole time. Corpse glanced towards his chat, finally able to try and read everything everyone was saying. His eyes lit up as he saw her name flash the screen several times.
One person kept spamming the chat saying, Y/N’s has your Among Us character as her background, he smiled as he read it. He knew exactly what the picture was, “Oh really?” he hummed as he continued reading. Everyone was saying how nervous she got when they kept asking her about it. He pressed his lips together nervously. He decided to drop it for now, but he was curious. He looked back up to the screen and began to listen to what was happening during the meeting.
“...You really think I would spend this whole game marinating Corpse for me to kill him in front of Poki? What about that double kill that happened, there was no way I would’ve done that if I was with him.” Y/N explained, over Poki trying to defend herself.
“I think she’s got it guys,” It was down to Toast, Y/N, Sykkuno, and Poki. Everyone quickly voted for Poki. The Victory screen popped up. “I knew you had it, Y/N,” Corpse said as everyone started shouting into the discord.
After a few minutes of them discussing the round, they decided to switch over to Polius. “Hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?” Corpse asked, the group quickly went quiet.
“Sure,” she giggled.
“My chat keeps saying you have my character as your phone background, is that true?” he asked, teasingly. He smiled widely. The entire group started cheering while teasing Y/N and Corpse.
Her mouth dropped open as she tried to find a way to explain it, “Well, uh,” she cleared her throat, “I do actually, it was great art, what was I supposed to do?” she laughed.
“Oooo, someone has a little crush,” Sean teased, Felix quickly joined. The rest of the group was simply laughing along. Corpse stayed silent while the group was teasing Y/N, and Corpse for that matter.
He pulled up Y/N’s Twitter and began to scroll through her feed to find the perfect drawing. He took the drawing that Y/N did of her own Among Us character. It was a drawing of Y/N holding her little character in her hand. It was his favorite piece of art she has done. Mainly because she drew it while on FaceTime with him. He quickly changed it to his iphone background, he glanced back towards the screen, seeing if the game started. He took a screenshot of it and immediately texted it to Y/N.
“Y/N, look at our messages,” he said simply into his mic. The group slowly stopped talking as they waited for Y/N to open the message.
“Corpse, I’m scared,” she whispered, everyone started laughing.
“Just open the message,” he giggled.
She sighed dramatically while she pulled up the messages with Corpse, seeing the screenshot. Her lips fell into a pout as she saw it. “I drew that,” she mumbled into the mic.
“You did,” he whispered, as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. He loved hearing her voice. “It’s my favorite,” he continued.
“Corpse,” she whined as her eyes began to tear up. She didn’t know why, but her heart felt so full. “You didn’t have to do that,” she mumbled, readjusting herself in her chair. She shifted her gaze towards the contact name, Corpseyyy.
“Of course I did, It was beautiful art,” he muttered while he looked back towards his phone, admiring his new phone background.
“Is this..a possible.. New relationship starting?” Sean whispered dramatically into his mic.
“It sounds like it,” Rae interjected. Corpse rolled his eyes dramatically, but he didn’t oppose the idea; neither did Y/N. Rae quickly started the game, letting the tension ease between everyone. Corpse and Y/N got imposter together.
“Oh my god finally,” Y/N said into the mic as she started faking tasks, “Chat, please stop saying I’m blushing, you aren’t helping,” she giggled as she continued the game. She raised her hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth.
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atlabeth · 3 years
Text
transferred part 20 - atla smau
part 19 | masterlist | epilogue
summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.
a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau
anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT
wc: 2.3k
warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)
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“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”
He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.
“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.
“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.
“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!
“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”
“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.
“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”
“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”
Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”
“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”
“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”
Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.
And suddenly, it clicked.
Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.
“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.
He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.
“I know where she is.”
-
Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and
But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.
He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.’
Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.
“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”
“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”
You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”
-
One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.
You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.
You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?
And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.
And then you ended up here.
It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.
You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.
But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.
“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”
“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?
You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?
“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”
“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”
“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.
“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”
“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”
You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.
“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”
As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.
“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.
He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.
You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.
Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.
“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”
You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”
“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”
“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”
You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”
He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.
“Always.”
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atla: @marianne1806
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