#they’ve seen the blood on my arm once and they told me I was being childish. and maybe I am. but whatever right?

[redhotarsenic]

“Well I’m anxious and stressed and sick all the time and I go to work every day so I don’t have any sympathy for you how dare you use that as an excuse but we care about your wellbeing though :) but shame on you also”

[felinisnoctis]

Bonded Pairs: Fruits of Progress

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I seem to have discovered the trick for getting the ultramarine out of his shell a bit. On impulse I stopped by a farm stall on the way home. They were selling fresh baked goods as well as the usual assortment of apples and corn and other produce. I bought a couple of pies to bring home, intending to put them in the freezer for later. Put a fresh peach pie in the room with the wounded astartes to be polite, even though they’ve been rejecting most food.

About ten minutes after I left the room I heard a small knock on my office door. Opened it on the assumption that it was Lorren, my space wolf, although he’d have either knocked more loudly or simply entered. Surprisingly it was the ultramarine, although the other was hovering protectively nearby.

“More food with fruit inside still are there?” His english was very tentative and he spoke deliberately softly and slowly, head down and hands folded in front of him. That part was strange - I’d seen angry and combative astartes plenty, but one who was this cautious around a lone baseline human? Something was very wrong here.

Besides the missing eyes. Or possibly because of them. Being stranded in a strange world is, from what I’ve been told, challenging enough. Being unable to see the world around you can't help.

I wasn’t going to find out what by sitting and staring though. “Yes, there are. Would you like some more?”

“Yes, Yes please.” He switched to gothic for the second half, fortunately what little I know.

“They’re upstairs. I will go get them. Unless you want to come up?”

The blood angel tapped something on his brother’s arm urgently; the ultramarine tapped a response back. A slight flash of worry crossed the blood angel’s face.

“I do. You don't carry, not good.”

A few minutes later, he’d settled in to a large armchair just outside the kitchen and was clearly making a valiant effort to take polite bites of his fourth peach pie rather than simply wolfing the entire thing down. With his limited english, my even more limited gothic, and a bit of help from a phone translation app, I learned that his name was Gerhardt and his blood angel companion was Asariel. I held off on explaining exactly where we were, deciding that would be better once I could get in contact with a more settled astartes of an appropriate chapter and temperament.

Asariel paced behind Gerhardt restlessly, refusing any food I offered him and looking between me and the outside windows warily, occasionally tapping something onto Gerhardt’s arm. Several times he glanced over at the kinfe block as if contemplating taking one. I’m not really sure what to do to get him to open up, so I left him alone until the pair returned to the basement.

They’d be welcome to one of the proper rooms, of course, but I’m not sure Asariel could handle it yet.

[lilavolturi]

Bloody Kisses

Content Warning ⚠️ 🌹🌹Mild smut/BDSM undertones 🌹🌹 co-author @quidditchflyer

Icy cold hands clamped down on my upper arms and pulled me along the chilly hallway of a sprawling castle. No matter the resistance I put up, Arlo’s strength was above mine. He had snatched me off the street, an innocent tourist from America.

“Please..don’t do this!!” I asked of him, but he marched me onward.

“I believe you’ll find yourself quite comfortable here. Anything you want is yours, anything at all,” he spoke so perfectly and cleanly, from a completely different era.

“Don’t let him kill me!!!” I sobbed as I was pushed through the chamber doors of Caius Volturi.

“That’s not up to me, now is it? You’re a gift, so act accordingly. Chin up, no tears,” Arlo said to me with cheer, like a father giving away his daughter at her wedding.

Caius looked up from his book, casting curious eyes my way. His blood red irises chilled be to my bones. My lips trembled as I stared back, eyes wide with terror. The doors were shut behind me, leaving me alone with the cruelest vampire known. Temperamental, prone to violence, and a sexual deviant.

“Welcome. I’ll do my best to make you comfortable and well looked after,” he began, staring me directly in the eyes. “I have a gift for you.”

I wiped tears from my cheeks, trying to not visibly shake. Caius Volturi reached into a drawer by his luxurious bed, producing a silky red box.

“Vampires don’t sleep,” I stated simply as he approached me.

“No, but humans do. Open the box.”

He placed it in my hands and I did as instructed. Nestled in a pillow of red silk was the most striking diamond ring I had ever seen.

“What?”

Caius touched my cheek with cold fingers, unsmiling, and slid the ring on the appropriate finger.

“I’ve been forced to choose another mate. So I chose you. They’ve read your memories..who you are. They think you’ll be a good fit once you’ve gone through the transformation,” he told me in a flat, monotone voice, seemingly annoyed with my presence.

“What happened to..?” I asked before I could remember to hold my tongue.

“I killed her for disobedience.”

Instantly, I shut my mouth and dropped my eyes to my feet.

He lifted my chin with his index finger to make me meet his gaze. “That won’t happen to you. If anyone else touches you, bothers you in any way, I’ll make them dig their own grave.”

I trusted that he was serious, as he didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “Wh-what do you want me to call you??”

“By my first name, preferably. But I don’t mind a nickname,” he said to me quietly, melting a little around the edges. “Also, we need to see if we’re sexually compatible.”

“You..you’ll break every bone in my body!!” I protested, but I’m hushed by icy cold lips on mine. I recoiled from the undesired attention, but I caught a trace of his scent. Sweet..yet floral and earthy. He smelled so good..

“I have many lifetimes worth of experience,” he told me confidently, cracking a smirk. “But I don’t think I need to be gentle with you.”

I nodded, on the edge of a total anxiety meltdown. Caius showed me no comfort, no kind words.

“Wow,” I breathed, forgetting royal vampire etiquette as I looked him in the eyes. “You’re..beautiful.”

“I know,” he said flatly.

“What should I do now?”

“May I touch you?”

I was shocked by this..a vampire asking for consent to touch me. “Yes. I’m just..nervous.”

He grinned wider, assuming I was a virgin. Caius was delighted by the idea of making me bleed. “First time?”

“No. You’re fucking scary.”

“You’re awful bold, you know that? But..I am pleased by what I see. Show me more,” Caius told me with a sultry tone of voice, hands wanting to roam my body.

I stripped and left my clothes in a pile on the floor. Shivering, I complained of being cold and he made sure the room was warmed to my liking.

Caius looked me over with intense excitement, and I slipped into bed. He followed, slowly dropping his clothes as well. I couldn’t help but stare him up and down, in awe of his physical perfection. My body couldn’t help but react to him, turned on by his sugary sweet scent. He watched me staring as he joined me in the bed, completely nude.

“This is yours, forever, if you live through the change,” he told me softly, taking my hand and placing it on his chilled body.

Caius smiled as he lowered my hand til he wrapped it around his cock. Automatically, I stroked him slowly before taking him into my mouth. He purred with pleasure as he began warming to human body temperature with my touch. He pulled me away and tried to kiss me, but I was scared of getting nicked by his razor sharp teeth.

“I know what I’m doing,” he snapped loudly, hand clamped on my face. He smiled as I winced in pain.

I nodded quickly and Caius kissed me hard, his lips tasting like honey. He was as sweet as he smelled, and I loved it. Unable to hold back, I wrapped my arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his blonde hair.

“Please..” I whimpered in his ear.

He carefully slid inside of me and I spent a passionate night in the arms of my personal devil.

I had been a resident of the Volturi castle for a month. Other residents looked on me with disgust, but don’t dare bother me. I quickly learned just how feared the Volturi kings were, especially Caius. However, Jane cornered me one evening in the massive library where I sat reading.

“You deserve to die.”

“Why? Because I’m human?” I snapped back with sarcasm.

“You don’t belong here. Vampires of his status deserve royal mates,” Jane replied, her cold monotone never changing.

“You jealous, Jane? Caius already told me everything about everyone. Especially about your bullshit,” I responded with equal coolness, flipping the page. “Touch me, and Caius will have you buried alive in chains.”

I wasn’t aware that Caius was actually listening in on this exchange at first. But I felt a tingly sensation in my spine and I flicked my eyes in his direction. Biting back a grin, I waved at him and he smiled as he came out of the shadows.

“Get out,” he snarled at her, and Jane actually obeyed.

As soon as she was gone, he sat next to me and caressed my cheek. I leaned into his touch, stretching out on the lush couch to lie in his lap.

“It’s time,” he announced quietly, running his cold fingers through my hair.

Determined to go through this with my dignity intact, I stood up and allowed him to take my hand. He led me to a special room specifically meant for feeding purposes, and I had never been more fearful in my entire life. I was facing my own mortality with only a 50/50 chance of surviving the next 3 days.

Arlo, Marcus, and Jane were present as official witnesses to the occasion, following the vampiric laws. I tried to numb myself as protection from my emotions, but that failed me when Caius Volturi got the event going.

“I’ve chosen you as my mate. You will be transformed from human to vampire, of royal status. Over the next three days, you will change. And yes, it will be the most painful experience of your life,” Caius stated, staring down at me where I sat on the edge of a designated bed. It was dressed with all black linens, a symbol of death and rebirth.

“I’m ready.”

I was lying. I was definitely not ready.

He sat next to me, cradling my cheek in his cold palm. I asked for one last kiss in case I didn’t make it. Caius smiled and did so, leaving his delicious, sweet taste on my lips.

I turned my head, willingly offering my neck to him. It happened so fast that pain was delayed for a few seconds. But once it set in, and he finished feeding, it felt like molten iron had been poured into my veins. I was sweating, panting, my heart beating at a strange pace that made my chest ache.

Dying, I thought to myself, I am dying.

With every stuttering beat of my heart, venom raced through my body. My breath caught in my throat as I fell into a black hole of fiery agony. Having lost control of my body, I stared at Caius with rivers of tears streaming down my cheeks.

Before I fell unconscious, Caius showed me his respect for my unwillingness to scream. He sat next to me, cradling the back of my head in his palm as he lowered me onto my back. I fought to stay conscious as long as possible, grabbing my vampire lover’s hand.

“Squeeze if you need to. You cannot hurt me,” Caius said to me softly, treating me so gently. He lowered himself to my level so he could kiss my lips again. “Sleep..”

I was awake…til darkness stabbed his grubby, hooked nails into me. Screaming pain ripped through every cell of my body, feeling as if I’d been flayed. Every nerve was rubbed raw, soaked in salt, and set aflame with rocket fuel levels of agony. Death seemed a relief from this hell, but I knew from the beginning there was no way he’d let me take the easy way out.

I felt like I was in a permanent state of pain purgatory, only able to breathe and open my eyes occasionally.

Floating in the black void, pain faded and a warmth flooded my body. Still paralyzed by the venom, moving was impossible, but I could feel everything. The individual threads of the sheets beneath me..I could smell the ozone in the air as a storm was approaching..and I could smell the floral, honey scent of my mate.

I felt warm fingers touch my face, which encouraged me to take a pain free breath. My eyes slowly opened, seeing that I’m surrounded by the Volturi kings and Jane.

Caius was touching my face, and his touch was no longer ice cold. He felt like the warm touch of a human, and I reached out for him.

“Is it over?” I asked weakly, a burning hunger in my abdomen.

“Welcome to the Volturi clan, young one,” Arlo announced to me with utter joy, all smiles. “Your mate will guide you..teach you everything that you need to know. At nightfall, you will be presented with your first meal.”

“Enjoy your union,” Marcus added, nodding in my direction with respect as if I had always been there.

Caius smirked at me, grasping my hand and leading me to what was now our chamber. As soon as the heavy oak doors shut, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on me.

“I want to show you something,” Caius said, leading me to the full length mirror by the window.

I stared myself down and it was like my reflection belonged to a stranger. My eyes no longer had their beautiful green irises. They were the color of fresh blood, a haunting shade of red. My skin was as smooth and flawless as marble, not one single imperfection. My hair was just as manicured, as were my nails. My once slightly crooked teeth were straight and dangerously sharp.

Caius, for the very first time, complimented my appearance. “Absolute perfection.”

“Your skin…feels different…” I mumbled, still processing my change mentally. “You don’t feel so cold..”

I felt his hands on my shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. His sweet lips placed a kiss on the scar his bite left in my flesh, sending intense tingles down to my lower regions. Caius instantly felt my arousal and he smiled evilly, touching my breasts.

“It’s time to consummate our union,” he whispered in my ear, tightening his grip around my waist. Caius pressed himself against me, equally as excited.

I turned around to face him and stared with my jaw dropped. He was beautiful before, but now he was even more so. Caius smiled back, basking in my admiration.

I had almost completely lost my sense of fear, and I didn’t bother to ask for permission to touch him. He had made me his equal, taking my human life and gifting me immortality. My hands reached up to touch his face, my fingers brushing over his full lips. If I still had a heartbeat, it would have been pounding.

Caius leaned down and kissed my lips roughly, and I slipped my tongue in his mouth. We made out heavily and he ripped my clothes off, flinging them aside before shoving me against a wall. He allowed me to undress him and cover his body with kisses and gentle nibbles.

“I can’t wait to break you in,” Caius snarled in my ear, sucking my neck as he picked me up by my ass.

As he pushed his cock inside of my hungry, soaked pleasure temple, I sank my nails into his back. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, making me moan his name. Thank god the walls were made of stone.

After that mind blowing sensory experience, I begged Caius for more.

“Don’t hold back,” I panted as he tossed me onto the bed with enthusiasm. “Please don’t hold back…”

He was incredible in bed, making me orgasm over and over with zero mercy. Once more, I dug my nails into his back and left surface scratches, making him growl with pleasure.

“You belong to me..” he purred in my ear, rearranging my insides.

Caius gripped my throat as his facial expression began to change. I watched him go from my respected, powerful vampire mate to a man at the mercy of his own intense desires. His pounding into me began to slow down, his beautiful face contorting into an orgasmic display.

After one more hard thrust, he let out a deep groan of pleasure as he came inside of me. I, however, wasn’t finished. I demanded more, pulling him back down on top of me.

“More,” I told him, growling for the first time. Caius was amused, but hushed me with his finger on my lips.

“I’m going to make you wait.”

One rainy afternoon, while I was in my favorite chair reading, Jane decided to give me shit again. I ignored her at first, but her mouth stopped moving..and I could still hear every word.

“Shut the fuck up!” I snapped at her, growling and hissing.

“I didn’t speak..you can read minds?” Jane asked me with curiosity.

I slammed my book shut.

“I know how you think of me. Do a better job of protecting your mind,” I threatened her, feeling leftover human frustrations with my situation.

“Caius has found his angry, bitter match.”

Something inside of me broke into sharp slivers, opening a new ability I never thought I was capable of. I held my ears, dropped to my knees, and let out a piercing shriek that would’ve made a banshee proud. Glass windows split and exploded, the heavy doors to the library slammed shut, and Jane was flung through the air like a rag doll.

Jane expressionless face showed a tinge of fear, which I greatly enjoyed. I stood up and stomped over to the small vampire, hovering above her.

“This has nothing to do with Caius, you pathetic excuse for a vampire. You are below me, do you understand? You will show me respect and follow every order given or I will enjoy ripping you to pieces,” I spat at her, at my very wit’s end with her blatant disrespect.

A slow clapping of hands began. Jane and I looked in the direction of the sound. There stood my mate and his co-ruler Arlo. For the first time, I saw Caius smile.

“You’ve shown us nothing but impressive abilities and excellent leadership skills,” Arlo began, looking as proud as he did the day he gave me to my mate.

“I want her next to me,” Caius told Arlo, mentioning having my own throne put next to his. “Her place is at my side, the first Volturi queen.”

Arlo shot Caius a look of surprise, as Caius was very adhered to the laws and traditions of the Volturi.

“We need to have a meeting and discuss this with Marcus,” Arlo insisted, but he was supportive of having a Volturi queen.

“Marcus doesn’t know his ass from a graveyard,” Caius snorted, rolling his eyes and then smiling at me. I grinned back, licking my lips.

Caius started showing me more simple affection, holding my hand as we went to our private rooms. I leaned into his side and he held me close as we walked, kissing the side of my face.

“You’re absolutely formidable,” he said to me with pride.

“Caius?” I asked softly.

“Yes, my queen?”

“I…love you,” I admitted to him, feeling confident in my words. “I love you..do you feel the same?”

“I’m about actions, not words. But, to state it simply, yes I do.”

I paused our walk and looked up into his eyes, a burning need for physical contact. Caius smirked and kissed me passionately, holding my face in his hands.

I, the first Volturi queen in vampiric history, had thawed the coldest heart.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

IATCOD Chap. 25; The siege continues

*Author's note*

So confession time, I've had this chapter done for about a week or so but I wanted to rework some things because I've got a double update for you guys today. Now this was probably my fav. chapter to write bc I absolutely LOVE the battle of Pelennor fields scene, and I wanted to do it justice through Cain's POV. So I'll stop typing and let you guys get to reading :)

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@thats-s0-ravenn

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

_____________________________________________________________

*Cain’s POV*

After our departure from Dunharrow we rode on till midday where Eomer and some other Rohirrim members went to meet with some scouts who went ahead towards Gondor to inform us about the severity of the White city.  From what I heard, it wasn’t looking good.  Orcs taking over the capital city of Osgiliath, the walls overrun with orcs, and all nine Nazgul raining down their terror upon their fellbeasts.

Suddenly my ears picked up a piercing scream.  I tensed inward as my face contorted into pain.  The screams were getting louder and louder until all that was left was this piercing ringing sound.

“Lord Cain?” I heard Gamling say my name in concern.  However his voice sounded muffled while some sounds like the horses huffing and eating sounded normal.  “Are you alright?”

“I-fine I’m-I’m fine.” I assured him as I stood up and walked over to Wysteria and felt around for my waterskin.  Things seemed to return to normal as I drank my water but then suddenly there was silence.  Absolutely silence.  I couldn’t hear anything, no wind, no voices, not even the sound of Wysteria’s heartbeat.  My body froze as my tastebuds were suddenly enhanced further than they’ve ever been before.  The taste of cooper and iron suddenly came across my upper lip, I knew the taste anywhere.  Blood.

I raised my hand and my sense of touch had picked up the feel of blood running down my nose.  My heart raced as now my hearing had finally been taken from me.  How was this even possible? And more importantly how long would it last?  I felt someone touch me and in fear I twisted the man’s arm before kicking them to the ground.

As I too collapsed to the ground, I felt through my hands the thundering sound of something surrounding me.  But without my eyes I couldn’t see just what or who was making that sound, and now without my hearing I—I can’t tell what is going on around me.  The only thing I really could do was scream as loud as I could until I was able to hear something.

*3rd Person POV*

Gamling quickly raced back towards Theoden and called out to him.

“My king, something’s wrong with Lord Cain!” Before Theoden could ask, Cain’s screaming was soon heard throughout the entire platoon.  He, Gamling, Eomer and the other leading captains raced towards Cain to see him lying on the floor on his back, screaming as loudly as he could.  His mare Wysteria was going frantic, not out of fear but she wasn’t allowing anyone to come near Cain.

She circled around him, stomping her hooves and rearing towards anyone who came near snarling and neighing protectively.

“What happened to him Gamling?” asked Theoden.

“I don’t know sire. He just—froze in his spot holding his ears in pain. He told me he was fine until one of our soldiers tried to grab him and he nearly broke his arm off.”

“There’s no point in going near him his mare won’t let anyone near him. I’ve seen this only once before with Brego and my son long ago. We’ll have to wait it out. Hopefully Lord Cain will come to his senses.” Theoden said.  That being said, Gamling ordered every man to not go anywhere near Lord Cain and to steer clear of Wysteria’s protective barrier she was making around him.

In the back of the crowd, Merry and Eowyn looked at each other worriedly, Merry most of all.  Eowyn wrapped an arm around the young halfling in assurance that Cain would somehow pull through.

After a few minutes, Lord Cain finally became calmer as he now just laid there on the grass, his hands resting over his stomach as he took calming, deep breaths.  Meditating and focusing on his breathing, Wysteria still circling around him.

*Cain’s POV*

After screaming didn’t help, all I could do now is do what Ajak taught me shortly after I had been resurrected and had lost my sight.  Whenever my senses became too heightened or the world became too much for my darkened eyes to take, she taught me how to focus my breathing and find peace within me.

I took deep, calming breaths and remained still.  After awhile the silence around me soon turned to muffled conversations until finally I heard Eomer say.

“How long do we have to wait?”

“Not anymore.” I spoke up.  I soon heard the sound of every man’s heartbeat that surrounded me pick up.  I then heard Wysteria’s hooves walk closer to me and she lowered her head nickering softly as I felt her warm breath at my face.  “I’m okay girl, thank you.” She knelt down softly whinnying and I reached out to her and allowed her to help me stand up.

“What happened Cain?” I heard Theoden ask me.

“The Celestial roar.” I answered.

“The what?”

“The Celestial roar. It’s not necessarily a power, but in pure, raw rage, a Celestial can let out a scream so loud and so thunderous, it is said to make the Misty Mountains themselves tremor. Only few Celestials in history have ever done such a scream, most of them being from Thena’s side. Something must’ve happened in Gondor to allow Hela to roar like that. Something bad, and I fear it’s not because of the city falling.”

“Lord Cain I must ask this, are you able to still fight? Or even ride?” Theoden asked to which I immediately responded.

“Yes. I know what all of you must be thinking, and I sincerely apologize to whoever it was that I hurt. But I am still able to fight and ride.” Theoden remained silent for awhile until he said to me.

“Very well. But if you should have an outburst like that again, I will have no choice but to order you to return to Dunharrow and recover under my niece’s care.” Little does he know that his niece is closer than he thinks.

“Yes my lord. Again I severely apologize for making everyone worry and for delaying our trip to Gondor.”

“We ride through the night.” Theoden told me.  “Sound the call!” I then heard the horns of the mark sound off and Wysteria nudged her face into my chest.  I patted her nose and got onto her back and soon we all rode in full gallop, long through the night and day without rest until we would reach the white city.

*My POV*

I had hoped I’d never even get within 20 feet of this place.  Ever since the Witch King took over this place, it brewed an aura so foul and evil, it made me tremble in fear at the mere mention of it’s name.  Now Haldir was inside this horrible place, who knows what tortures those council members have already done to him.

I took a deep breath and exhaled before finally taking that first step across the bridge and came to the doors.  Using Thena’s strength, I kicked the doors opened and it was so quiet.  No orc guards, no Nazgul, not even the torches were lit.

“Show yourselves cowards.” I hissed lowly.  I looked around as I summoned Aeglos to my hand and slowly walked further into Minas Morgul.  Already the dark magic of this place was starting to affect my mind as I heard the dark chants of not only the lost souls who had been trapped here after the fall of Minas Ithil, but also the Witch King himself.

Perfecting his dark incantations he’d use in battle long ago before his fall in Angmar.

“So, you’ve come at last.” I heard Deimos’ voice echo through the darkness.  “I was beginning to think you were too weak to come here to this place.”

“Why hide in the shadows like a snake in the grass?” I said looking around in every direction to where he could be hiding.

“We have nothing to hide.” Nergal’s voice soon spoke up.

“Then show yourselves.” I sneered.

“To find us, follow the cold shiver running down your spine, and the cold spots that cling to the back of your neck.” Nergal said, almost mocking me.  Then all went silent once again.

I slowly walked further into the fortress until I came to the stairs that led up to the watch tower.  Like Nergal said, I felt a cold spot as my breath suddenly became visible and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up.  A shiver of fear ran up my spine as I made the climb up the stairs.  Finally I made it to the top level of the tower and I was horrified at what I saw.

Haldir lay there on his back unconscious and surrounding him looked to be the same symbol that I had seen branded on Théodred’s soul when he came as a hybrid Deviant back at Helm’s Deep.

“Haldir.” I quickly raced over to him and was shocked to see that his entire body had been cut with what almost appeared to be a thousand knives no not knives, they were too shallow to be knife wounds, thread? But how could thread do something like this? “Haldir? Haldir? Come back to me.”

He remained still, like he was in a deep sleep.  I pressed my lips to his forehead and remained there for a solid minute until I felt him awake choking and gasping for air.  His eyes (for the first time) showed true, blind fear as he frantically looked around.

“Hey, hey, hey look at me. Look right at me Haldir. It’s me, it’s Hela.”

“Hela….” He croaked.  His voice completely parched from lack of water.  “Y-you sho…..”

“Shhh, save your strength.” I whispered to him.  “I’m here to get you out. Can you stand?”

“Trap…..”

“What?”

“Trap……it’s a trap! They—they’re after you. They—AHHH!!!” suddenly Haldir’s body contorted itself inward before he was lifted into the air.

“Don’t you just hate it when puppets don’t do what they’re told?” I growled and summoned a whip and captured Nergal by the waist.

“Whatever spell you have him under release him now or I’ll have your bones crushed underneath this whip!”

“The smell of rage, yes. Almost as pleasant as the smell of fear.” Deimos soon came out from the darkness to my right.  Another pair of footsteps soon followed and there stood Perses just a few feet in front of me.

“That is a rush isn’t it? Knowing you have someone’s life under your will.” Perses spoke with a growl to his voice.  It was almost as chilling as Sauron’s voice itself.

“What do you want with me? And why bring Haldir into this? If you wanted me you should’ve come for me directly and left him out of this!” I snarled at Perses.

“Then you wouldn’t have felt what you’re feeling now. Can’t you feel it Hela? The power you had unleashed when you found out about your precious Elfling being brought here. The rage, the anger, it fueled you did it not? We heard it ourselves. The Celestial roar.”

“So what? You want it? Hate to tell you it’s not really a power that can be taken by any means.”

“No, you misunderstand me Hela. Much like you misunderstand why you and your kin were brought to Middle Earth.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen how she’s trapped you. Fighting the Valar’s ‘holy, moral mission’. Bringing peace to Middle Earth and guiding it’s new comers to a better world. That’s not the mission of the Celestials, let alone the mission of the Celestial of Death.”

“And what would you know of why I was brought here? You don’t know anything about me!”

“Don’t we?” Deimos said.

“Middle Earth doesn’t need you to save them, they don’t deserve your help!” Nergal said.  “What you are is not a curse, it’s a gift.”

“You three don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to ignore them and redirect the conversation elsewhere but Perses soon spoke again in that haunting grovel of his voice.

“I myself have watched you from behind Denethor’s cowardly eyes. Struggling to have everything you want. While the world makes you choose. Celestials don’t have to choose, we take.” Not wanting to hear another word, I threw Aeglos straight at Perses and saw as it pierced right through his chest but it had no effect on him.

A sadistic smile came across his face as his eyes grew wide and glowed pure white and his hands began to glow white and he fired a powerful magical blast right at me.  I summoned a Celestial shield to block it and I soon saw Deimos’ hands glow red as he began to fire at my other side.  I summoned another shield but together both of their blasts were too powerful for me to hold back.

Soon I had no choice but to disband the shields but using Makkari’s speed I got out of the way as their blasts hit each other creating an explosion of white and red.  I then saw as Nergal began twisting his hands around (much like my water elemental sisters did) and saw Haldir land to the ground on his feet, his hands going straight to his belt as he was forced to draw out his sword.

Against his will, he came at me swishing and slicing his sword frantically.  I dodged each of his attacks before flipping over him and used Makkari’s ability to chi-block.  Hitting each of Haldir’s pressure points hurt me but I had no other choice.

‘I’m sorry Haldir.’ I signed to him.

“You did what you had to do.” I felt the vibrations of his voice say.  Suddenly my arm began to twist backwards before it was pulled behind me.  I gripped my arm but I couldn’t bring it down, then I felt myself being forced to stand fully erect like a guard of the Watch tower.  I soon felt myself being lifted into the air and slowly being turned around to face Nergal.

“You should’ve learned this technique before you faced us. It’s impossible to fight your way out of my grip. I now control every muscle, even your very soul is mine to command.” With a twist of his hands and arms, I was jerked to the right before I felt my feet sliding across the floor towards the left only to feel both my arms being thrown behind my back to stop me.

My body contorting, almost spasming as I felt my entire body crumble then go erect before crumbling again.  Until finally I was forced down on my knees, tears falling down my face in pain.  In the pain, I was forced to let go of Makkari’s powers and I pleaded with Nergal.

“Stop……please.” Nergal only cackled at the sight of my agony.  But then through the pain, I felt this rush of power surging through me.  I breathed sharply through my pain as I used the magic that surrounded me.  I slowly stood on my feet and said, “You’ve underestimated me Nergal. You, Deimos and Perses all underestimated me. I am not the same Celestial of Death I once was, and technique is useless on me!”

Using my own Celestial magic, I drew in some of the dark power from this very fortress and converted it to my own personal brand of Celestial of Death magic and fired it at Nergal.  He took the beam and redirected it back towards me as well as drew in dark power from the fortress as well and all three beams of magic combined into one as it headed straight for me.

I took a strong front stance and did a palm-heel strike at the beam which dispersed and scattered around the fortress like millions of fireflies.  Nergal was shocked at what I had done then using Makkari’s speed I slammed right into him and repeatedly came at him punching and kicking him into the wall until he was all but unconscious.  A gleam soon caught my attention and I took his left wrist to see a vial with both a red and watery speck within.

The vial was what one of the Blue Wizards called a voodoo vial.  If someone’s blood or any form of fluid got into this vial, the magic bearer could control said person using their own fluids against them.  Nergal must’ve used both Haldir’s blood and the sweat from my armor after the battle of Osgiliath and put it into this vial.

But how he got it was the question, these vials hadn’t been seen since the Blue Wizards vanished from Middle Earth.  I tucked it away so that Nergal couldn’t use it again before racing back to Haldir.  I helped him up dropping Makkari’s powers and said to him.

“I’m sorry again about what I did earlier.”

“And as I said, you did what you had to do. I probably would’ve done the same thing.” I smiled softly and got us back towards the stairway and we tried to get out as fast as we could.

Once we had reached the main level, a powerful blast was shot behind us which threw both Haldir and I off our feet.  We both turned to see Perses and Deimos levitating above us.

“Haldir, run.”

“But Hela—”

“This is not up for debate, you’ve already been in this foul place long enough, I refuse to allow you to stay another second here!”

“My, my how adorable they are. Seems ashamed we’ll have to tear you both apart. Limb from limb.” Deimos mocked with a sadistic grin on his face.

“Haldir please. Just get out of here!”

“I won’t leave you to fight them alone!” Valar above Haldir don’t make me do this! I took the vial and thought my command.  Soon Haldir stood up, his eyes widened in shock.

“Go.” Then he turned and against his will, he ran out of Minas Morgul leaving me to fend off both Deimos and Perses.

“Such a noble cause, but he won’t get far.” Perses said to me monotonous, almost devoid of any feeling.

“If either of you want him, you’ll have to kill me first.” I summoned Aeglos back to my hand as well as used Kingo’s power to summon a cosmic energy ball.  Deimos soon summoned out his two sickles flipping the blades together making a clanking sound.

“I’m going to enjoy this.” He said lustfully.  Then the three of us charged at each other.

The battle lasted throughout the night, by the end Minas Morgul was left with various openings and cracks within its structure.  As we stood upon the highest tower once more, I was panting and breathing heavily, my body bleeding and bruised whilst both Perses and Deimos barely had a scratch on them.

How were they able to get by with barely a scratch?! They couldn’t be normal mages or sorcerers so just who or what were these men? Suddenly I became overwhelmed with the crying voices of the people of Gondor.  Hearing their heartbeats beat their last beat or feel the souls leaving their bodies as they were being slaughtered like pigs.

“Ohhh that is a delicious scent. Death. Feeling the souls of the departed and their blood pour out.” Deimos said taking a deep inhale before exhaling in pleasure.  His eyes seemed to glow redder as he slid his sickles across the ground and walked towards me.

“You’re even viler than Azog himself.” I muttered.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Deimos mocked.  I charged at them again but they quickly disbanded and took to the air.  I fired at Deimos using Kingo’s cosmic arrows firing them one after the other when I felt Perses coming at me from behind.  I quickly ducked his punch and went to punch him but he grabbed my wrist in his hand.

“Strong enough to have it all,” he then kneed me in the gut which knocked the wind out of me.  “Too weak to take it!” he then kicked me in the face sending me across the tower but I got back into a low crouching stance.  I then used the peaks of the tower to run up and capture Perses with my legs (a technique favored by Thena and Makkari).

I used my monetium to pin him to the wall and with as much force as I could I began punching Perses in the face repeatedly.  But what frightened me was that with each punch, he kept turning his head back towards me, a wicked smile spreading across his face almost as if he were enjoying it.  As he cackled I cried out and punched him harder even elbowing him straight down on the head.  But Perses held me by the back before finally slamming me down through the roof of the tower sending me falling straight back to the same room where I had found Haldir.

I groaned and coughed up some blood as I tried to pick myself off the ground.  I then felt a foot on my back and saw as a sickle came at my throat.

“I say it’s time we put an end to this little game of ours.” Deimos said to me.  Just as I felt the blade start to touch my neck, a horn was heard in the distance.  A horn that I knew all too well.  “Impossible!” Deimos growled and I let out a laugh.

“They’ve come.”

*Cain’s POV*

With the sound of the Horn of the Mark echoing through the sun’s rising in the East, we had finally arrived at Gondor open fields.  Our horses neighing and whinnying as we marched over the Pelennor fields and looked down upon Gondor.

Even though I couldn’t physically see the destruction that lay before us, I could easily compare it to one other city that had been this badly attacked.  The night Gondolin was attacked.  The fire, the panicked screams of the people, the smell of decaying flesh, it all came back to me as we stood upon the hill.

The haunting chants of the number of orcs that stood before the walls of the White city were probably the greatest I had ever felt in my lifetime.  Sauron was willing to take no chances to allow the city of Kings to remain standing.

Wysteria nickered and stamped her hooves nervously, and I could pick up the fear coming from Merry deep within the armies.  I patted Wysteria’s neck comfortingly and whispered to her.

“Steady girl, steady.” ‘You too Merry. This is what true war is like, but if you remember your training, you may yet survive this.’ I soon sent a telepathic message to Merry.

“Form ranks you maggots! Form ranks. Pikes in front, archers behind!” I heard a general orc command his army.  I heard as the orc armies got into position and I tightened my grip on Wysteria’s reins.  I then heard the thundering hooves of Theoden’s horse Snowmane and he gave out the orders.

“Eomer, take your eored down the left flank.”

“Flank ready!” Eomer called out to his section of the army.

“Gamling, follow the king’s banner down the center. Grimbold, take your company right after you’ve passed the wall. Forth, and fear no darkness!” The two men got into position and soon Theoden stopped before me and Wysteria, “Master Cain, you ride with me at my side. Together we lead our men to battle!” I nodded and urged Wysteria to follow Snowmane as Theoden proclaimed to one and all of his riders, pacing across the entire army of Rohan.  “Arise, arise, Riders of Theoden! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered. A sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!”

The riders lowered their spears and I heard the orcs wielding their pikes get into full position crouching down with their pikes standing outward.  Snowmane soon rode onward and I urged Wysteria behind him, Theoden’s sword clanking with each spear as he gave his men the courage to ride forth into battle and death.

“Ride now! RIDE NOW! RIDE! RIDE FOR RUIN AND THE WORLD’S ENDING!!” When Theoden stopped at the middle of the army to lead us onward, he proclaimed out for one and all to hear, his sword raised. “DEATH!!”

“DEATH!” the men echoed back raising their own weapons.

“DEATH!” I then cried out.

“DEATH!” the men echoed back, accepting me as their Celestial General as they and their ancestors had done for Hela so long ago.

“DEATH!!!!” Both Theoden and I cried out once more and this time the riders, Merry and Eowyn echoed back death so loudly, the sun fully rose behind us.  Lighting up the darkness that had befallen Gondor and giving their people back their hope.

“FORTH EORLINGAS!” Theoden proclaimed as the Horns of the Mark pierced the dawning sky.  And with the final horn call, Theoden and I lead the charge as the riders all yelled and cried out a battle cry, I could swear it would’ve rivaled a Celestial’s roar.

Wysteria went from a slow trot to a run and finally a full on gallop.  I gripped my axe in my hand as I urged her to go faster.  My confidence urging her onward as she neighed fiercely.  I soon heard the orc general proclaim the archers to fire and the sound of whizzing arrows filled the skies, and the sound of horses tripping and falling as well as men being taken down off their horses.

But we did not stop.  We kept charging towards the orc armies head on.  As Theoden let out the full command to charge, I could already hear the shift in the air from the orcs.  More arrows continued to come down at us, but even the orcs soon realized that we weren’t retreating, they became shocked, nay frightened.

I raised my axe into the air and proclaimed out to Gamling and the rest of the men at the center.

“CHARGE!!!” The sound of the orcs’ heartbeats beated furiously with fear and some even started to retreat back but it was too late.

Like a tidal wave crashing down, the horses ploughed through the orcs like they were nothing.  I sliced every orc that was within range, relieving them of their heads or slicing their necks open.  Wysteria rammed down each orc and made sure to trample over each one she had knocked down as we continued to charge deeper within the ranks of the orc armies.

Rohan had come to Gondor’s aid, and the old Alliances of Men was finally reforged.

Swords clashed, spears broke, shields splintered, just as Theoden said but we managed to slay most of the front lines of orcs and free the gate of any orcs that tried to enter the city.

I beheaded two orcs one after the other before coming across another orc who tried to come at Wysteria.  I grabbed his spear and headbutted him before using his own spear to stab him through the heart.  Wysteria reared as she kicked another orc that came near us before riding onward.

“Drive them to the river!” I could hear Eomer’s voice call out and his men did as they told.  The orcs quickly retreating as Theoden proclaimed.

“Make safe the city!” that’s when a deep rumble was heard.  I knew I was the only one who could hear it because the Riders had yet to notice what was coming.  I knew those deep, thunderous footsteps well and just the smell of them coming I knew who was now here.

“Find Theoden Wysteria. Hyah!” she rode onward but it was too late.  Soon the fighting stopped as the sound of chants echoed through the plains.  The deep bellowing horn and the chants of the Men now became clear.

The Haradrim had come.

The spiked heartbeats of the men around me grew in fear as they now looked upon the beasts that stood before them.  The Mumakil or as my kin called them once Oliphaunts.  Long ago, the Celestials once bred them for helping to build our great castles and removing dead trees to make room for new ones.

But shortly after the Deviants destroyed our home, they had been scattered and found themselves into the hands of people of Harad.  Nowadays they bred the Oliphaunts as war-beasts.  Which soon earned them their new name, Mumakil.

Wysteria nickered and paced fearfully.  I patted her neck and urged her to find Theoden once more.  She huffed but obeyed my command.

“Reform the line! Reform the line!” I heard Theoden’s voice proclaim.  What no! Theoden you can’t lead these men in a direct attack against these Mumakil, you’ll be slaughtered!  The Oliphants’ soon roared out furiously as they now began to charge.

“THEODEN! THEODEN WAIT!” I cried out as I rode towards him but it was too late.

“Sound the charge! Take them head on! Charge!”

“NOOO!!” I cried out but my voice was drowned out with the Horn of the Mark and the cries of the Men as they charged head on towards the Haradrim soldiers.

Within seconds, the sound of horses being flung through the air, men falling to their deaths at great heights, and giant hooves squashing both men and horses bones were all I could hear.  Arrows whizzing from both Haradrim and Rohirrim soldiers silenced any and all (but I could mostly hear the Rohirrim being slaughtered).

I growled and urged Wysteria forward and as I got closer I advised to them.

“NOT THE BEASTS! TAKE DOWN THE RIDERS! AIM FOR THE HEAD RIDER! EOMER!! TAKE DOWN THE LEAD RIDER! BRING HIM DOWN!!” Eomer’s head turned to me and I felt him grip his spear tightly as I heard a Mumakil coming right towards him.  He waited and waited for the right time to strike, then he let out a grunt as he threw his spear straight at the lead rider bringing him down.

By killing the lead rider, you force the Mumakil to go wherever they go.  And since this one was now dangling dead to the right, the Mumakil he was controlling was forced to go right, straight into another Mumakil bringing them both down.  I rode to Eomer and told him.

“Nice throw.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell your men to either aim for the riders, the head or their lower legs and ankles with your swords and spears. Their skin is too think to use arrows anywhere else.”

“I take you’ve dealt with these soldiers before?” he asked.

“Unfortunately yes. Haradrim soldiers, they’re twisted, vile, and kill for the pleasure of it. If I had to say whose worse orcs or them, you’d be surprised to say I’d rather take my chances with the orcs before these men.”

“Thank you for the advice Lord Cain.” I nodded then urged Wysteria onward to find Theoden.  Taking my advice, I heard Eomer command the men to fire their arrows where I had told them to.  One Mumakil was getting ambushed on all sides having arrow after arrow being fired at him.  He reared up taking down some of the men before a spear to the leg finally brought him down and finally give the men enough fire power to kill him.

It was sad to see these once innocent creatures now being used for war but I couldn’t let it interfere with my part in the war.  I urged Wysteria onward and used my axe and orc spear to cut one Mumakil at the ankles which brought it down.

I then used the orc spear to take down one of the archers before he had a chance to take either me or Wysteria down.  I then heard Eowyn’s voice calling out for Merry in a panic.  No! What happened!

“Hyah!” I kicked Wysteria’s sides and she raced onward.  I followed Eowyn’s heartbeat and soon tracked her near Theoden who was surrounded by orcs.  But her love for her uncle fueled her fire to fight and defend him in battle.  That’s when I heard the sound of coughing nearby and the familiar choked grunts of Merry.  “Come on Wysteria! Ha!”

She raced ahead and I soon picked up Merry’s racing heartbeat and his labored breathing.  Surrounding him were three Haradrim Soldiers.  Two of which had him held prisoner, while the third was ready to behead him.  I urged Wysteria on and she raced ahead before rearing up and kicked the Haradrim soldier holding Merry by the neck hard in the head, breaking his neck.

I then sliced one of the soldiers holding Merry across the face before twirling it and threw it at the other one, silencing him.

“Master Cain!” I got off Wysteria and knelt down in front of him, cupping his face.

“Are you alright?”

“I am, thanks to you.” I sighed in relief and embraced the young hobbit tightly. 

I was forced to live with the fact that I had allowed Hela to be tortured by the Haradrim soldiers for an entire day just because I couldn’t allow anyone to see how a blind man could fight.  I refused to allow anyone else I care about fall victim to these vile men ever again.

“Are you okay?” I sniffled softly and separated from him and said.

“Yes. Now that I know you are.”

“I remembered what you taught me, but they came out of nowhere from the orcs that also came by to take advantage of me.”

“As I said, they’re clever but they also fight dirty. Come.” I took back my axe and whipped the blood off of it and put Merry on top of Wysteria and got on her back just behind Merry.  “Let’s finish this, Hyah!” together Merry and I rode into battle slaughtering any stray Haradrim soldier that came at us or aiding the men who needed help.

Suddenly a piercing screech filled the air which made me clench my ears in agony.  Wysteria reared in such a panic, she had bucked both Merry and I off her back.  I soon heard the growls of a fellbeast and the crunching of horse’s bones before hearing the cracks of Theoden’s lower back snapping in two.  With an injury like that, even if he did somehow survive, he’d never be able to walk again.

“What happened Master Cain? Why did you horse do that?”

“The Witch King. He is here, and he means to kill Theoden.” I then heard his haunting voice say.

‘Feast on his flesh.’ But then a heartbeat filled with both fear and anger stepped forward and I heard Eowyn say.

“I will kill you if you touch him!”

‘Do not come between the Nazgul and his prey.’

“No, Eowyn what are you doing?”

“Lady Eowyn is there? Facing that thing? I have to help her!”

“Merry no! You can’t. No man can beat the Witch King of Angmar. He’s too powerful.” I gripped his arm before he could run off.

“But I’m no man, I’m a hobbit. Please Master Cain, I have to help Lady Eowyn. She’s helped me just as much as you have. I’d never forgive myself if I let her die when I know I could’ve helped.” I looked at the halfling and nodded.  I released his arm and told him.

“I’ll cover you.” He quickly embraced me before racing off to find Lady Eowyn.  Any man or orc that set their eyes on Merry, I slaughtered them where they stood.  Until finally the evil aura of the Witch King was so close, I couldn’t take another step out of fear.

With no other choice I turned and ran the opposite way, hoping Merry would be alright.  That’s when I felt a strong spiritual wave overcome the fields of Pelennor.  The same ghostly presence I had felt back at Dunharrow just days ago.  They did it! Aragorn and them succeeded in bringing the Army of the dead to help aid us.  Knowing the dead cant be killed nor have anything else to die for, the armies of Sauron were doomed far worse than ever before.

I slayed a few Haradrim soldiers and as I was crossing blades with another one, our strengths equally matched until he headbutted me and sliced at my leg through my disorientation.  But before he could deliver the finishing blow, Wysteria came and kicked the soldier in the chest cracking his ribs and then trampled his face in.

She came up to me and helped me stand back up.  I patted her neck as I slowly got on her back once more praising her on saving my life once more.  She whinnied and charged onward while I beheaded or cut the throats of any enemy that came near us.  But as I relieved two orcs of their heads, three arrows whizzed and Wysteria suddenly collapsed rolling forward neighing in pain, sending me off her back and down in a crouch position, my axe held close to my chest.

I heard the heartbeats of six Haradrim soldiers surrounding me and I took out my small dagger kept behind my boot and with grace and agility, I sliced through each of their necks, ending their worthless lives before turning back to Wysteria.  I knelt down beside her and could hear her heartbeat starting to slow and her breathing was labored.

Tears filled my eyes as I stroked her neck and pressed my head to hers.

“You were very brave Wysteria. So very brave, and I am honored to called you my faithful steed. You can rest now. Be at peace wild mare of Rohan.” She nickered softly once more before her heart went still and her breathing stopped.  I kissed her muzzle and stroked her neck once more.

I wish I had more time to grieve but the battle still needed to be fought.  I ran away from Wysteria and continued fighting on foot, cutting down any enemy forces that came my way until I came across a few familiar heartbeats that I knew had come with the army of the dead.  I sliced off an orc’s head and proclaimed.

“Aragorn!” I heard him chuckle as the two of us came together and embraced each other.  “Glad to see your mission was a success.”

“Glad to see you’re still in one peace. Not that I doubted from Hela’s older brother.” We both chuckled.

“Hate to say you were wrong before but 6000 was enough to break the lines of Mordor. At least until the Haradrim came and tipped the scales with their Mumakil. But with you and the armies of the dead here, we may yet reclaim the city back in your name.”

“Yes. Fight at my side Lord Cain?”

“To the death, King Aragorn.” I said gripping my axe and dagger tighter and giving him a smirk.  Together we both charged at any enemy in range.

As the battle continued to rage on, I sensed something.  Something far beyond the fields and pass the White city but not at the gates of Mordor.  It was somewhere inbetween the two kingdoms, a dark fell place and suddenly there was a loud boom.  A boom so loud, it shook the very earth and I could hear what sounded like a building starting to crumble down.  More explosions followed and I turned to Aragorn and asked him.

“What do you see to the West?”

“A fog of green and black smoke. A shape of a skull now forms in the sky, just over Minas Morgul. I knew it was a fell place of dark magic but never before have I seen something like that before.”

“Seems we’ll have to wait till after the war to decide what it was that caused that explosion.”

“Agreed. We’re almost at victory, we can’t afford to stop now.” I nodded in agreement.  After a few more minutes of fighting, I felt as the army of the dead swept the city and all the orcs that had breached the city were silenced.  Soon all went quiet except for one faint heartbeat.

I followed it and soon discovered that it was Theoden King.  He was barely clinging to life even with his body broken.  I knelt down beside him and stroked his head softly, I could feel the muscles around his eyes struggle to open and soon he said.

“You have your sister’s heart.” I smiled softly.  “And her smile, Master Cain.” His voice was soft as his heartbeat was slowly beginning to fade.  His gloved fingers came to my cheek softly stroking it, “My eyes darken.”

“I know…..I know.” I softly told him.  “I’m sorry I cannot spare the pain of your passing like my sister can.”

“You already are.” He assured me.  As a tear slowly slid down my face, Theoden stroked the tear away.  “Master Cain, do not weep over me. For your sister has taught me to not fear death.” I smiled softly.

That was what I had hoped Hela would give to the world.  For if she befriended all races that live in Middle Earth, when death comes for them no matter what shape or form, Hela is the sign that death is not a path to fear, but to one day embrace.  And look to like one looks at a dear friend.

“I go to my fathers, in whose mighty company I shall not know of yet shame.” Ever so slowly his heart beat got quieter and quieter until he choked out my sister’s name before he went silent.  His heart beating no more.

Theoden King had now passed.

Tears fully ran down my face as I cupped the face of the now dead king and whispered to him.

“Be at peace, Theoden Horse-master.” I kissed the center of his forehead before closing his eyes forever.

*My POV*

With the arrival of Rohan coming to Gondor’s aid and the Alliances of Men finally being reforged, it seemed to anger both Deimos and Perses in a way I had never seen before.  It fueled their attacks which took a deep toll on my body.

I tried to fight back with all my strength but even that wasn’t enough for the two of them combined together.  At first their fighting style had been to toy with me in order to keep me here and not go back to aid Gondor.  Now, now they were fully out for blood.  They weren’t holding back on anything whether their physical attacks or their magic.

I had been thrown against the tower by Perses before he came at me holding me by the throat.  He then picked me up and together the two of us slammed through the walls of Minas Morgul until we came to the main level of the fortress once again.  As I slammed hard against the floor, creating a large crater-like dent in the floor, Perses and Deimos soon appeared on top of me, Deimos taking my hands and pinning them to the ground while Deimos squeezed my throat with both his hands.

“Your weakness Hela, is morality. It’s choking you!” Both of them stared me down with insane, wide eyes.  There was nothing I could do now, my body was practically beaten and my vision was quickly going black as the air from my lungs was quickly running out.

“Can’t you feel it?” Deimos taunted as he gripped my left wrist and snapped it within his palm.  I didn’t even have any air to scream as I could literally hear the bones in my wrist crack but then the both of them screamed and finally let me up.

I let out a loud gasp as coughed and crying were mixed together.  I looked up and had seen that Haldir had returned.  Deimos and Nergal growled lowly as they withdrew Haldir’s twin daggers out from their backs and tossed them aside.

“Stupid Elfling you really thought those daggers would work?!” Deimos snarled.  As I continued coughing and rolled over to my side cradling my broken wrist and slowly tried to stand up.

“Nergal was right! She got it from you that pathetic sickness that is love!” Perses snarled.  I then felt a foot slam into my back sending me face first back into the rubble of the marble floor.  Haldir stood his ground now wielding Aeglos.  Both Deimos and Perses forced me up gripping either my hair or shoulder roughly.

“The cunning warrior attacks neither body nor mind.” Deimos taunted me.

“Haldir go…..” I choked.

“They attack your heart.” He finished.

“Haldir……please…..” I pleaded.  But he stood his ground.  Then suddenly a fellbeast bursted through the main entrance of the fortress knocking Haldir off his feet and threw him across the room.  I cried out his name as the fellbeast flew around before landing.  Riding on top of it was Nergal, he gave me a smirk and soon joining with him on top of the fellbeast were Deimos and Perses.

“Hela, Hela, Hela. No good deed goes unpunished. You can thank us later.” Perses told me.  I saw as Haldir lay there on his side near one of the columns grimacing in pain.  I watched as Perses nodded to Nergal who took out a circular vial filled with green colored potion.  He tossed the vial towards Haldir but I leapt towards it.

But the second I touched it….BOOM!! Just like at Helm’s Deep, a large explosion happened everywhere and I was thrown across the other side of the fortress.  I heard two more additional explosions ring out and the last thing I saw before I briefly blacked out was nothing but green and black mist forming around me.

[kidotm]

2278 (fanfic)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Fandoms: FO3 Fandom Relationships: Charon x OC Word count: 2,720+

Chapter 1: A Couple of Angels

Hands tied behind her back. Rope. Cuts on her arms and face. Tape over her mouth. She is dark-haired. Long-legged. She is suntanned almost brown like she spends a lot of time outside. Maybe a farmer? Maybe a raider. 

She is unconscious, propped against a wall and slouching over to the side. Blood is caked on the side of her head. It’s in her hair and all over the side of her face. Matted. Dried. She’s a mess of body fluid and grime and mud. It looks like she fought and even may even have fought hard. There’s bruises forming on her face and arms and the all skin visible to my eyes. Which is a fair amount, she’s not very well dressed. She wears no armor, only jeans and a short sleeved shirt that looks too small for her.

I observe as Vian, my contract holder, and someone she has brought back with her from her outing, a ghoul in a suit, go up and down the stairs. They go about their business hastily, snapping at one another here and there.

The man is not someone I’ve ever seen her with. Not before now. I already don’t care for him. Not at all. He hasn’t shut his mouth once since he walked through the door and doesn’t seem to be planning on doing so any time soon. His griping and bitching is getting on my nerves but he’s clearly no threat to her. They seem to know each other fairly well. They’re arguing like they do. 

I sit on the couch with my gun across my lap. I’m not sure where she found the man and I’m not sure why he’s here. The same goes for the woman slouched unconscious in the corner. I try to act like I don’t care. I try to act like I’m minding my own business. ‘You’re staying home this time,’ she had said. ‘I won’t be gone long, I won’t get into any trouble, don’t worry’ she had told me. ‘Just keep your ass on the couch unless something goes wrong.’

And that’s what I had done. My ass on the couch, eyes glued to the door. Five hours she had been gone. On the sixth hour mark she had returned. Upon her opening the door to the house I had quickly raised my shotgun to fire at the intruder, but it had only been her. And the man in the suit. And the unconscious woman being dragged behind him. 

No explanation was offered. They both ignored me. It’s dark outside, pitch black. The dead of night. It’s unlikely anyone even saw them, so there’s no one to be suspicious. 

At once I had noticed the bomb collar on her neck. Seeing it surprised me. These days, the only time I saw one was on the occasion I looked into a mirror, or a puddle. Something I normally avoided. But now, here one was, on the neck of an unconscious stranger. A very unlucky unconscious stranger. Memories flash through my head as I eyed the device. None of them are good. 

My contract holder has done a lot of nasty things to a lot of nasty people. She has done a lot of unfriendly things to a lot of friendly people. I kick myself, for just a moment, for thinking she wouldn’t take it any further. Not any further than me. Not this far. This doesn’t look good, none of it.

The two of them leave again and I am ordered to watch the woman and make sure she doesn’t go anywhere. While they’re gone, she stirs. I sit on the couch, eyeing her warily.

When she wakes, her in-question raider status goes from possible to very unlikely. She’s perturbed and afraid, but has none of the dope-addled cocky attitude that I’ve come to expect from them. Rain or shine, in their element or not, raiders talked shit 24/7. There was no rest, they took no breaks. Not if they had knife to their throat or a gun to their head. This woman doesn't really hit any of those marks. Just a wastelander?

When the two of them come back- he’s not sure what they had been doing outside- they force the woman up the stairs. I follow them this time. Having any sort of prisoner was relevant to me, like it or not. They’ve already got her tied to the workbench on the far end of the room when I catch up to them. She glares hotly at all of us but doesn’t have much to say to us or for herself. 

Later, I hear Vian and the ghoul in the suit arguing from her room. The man is insisting he doesn’t owe her anymore, insisting that they’re square now. I have no idea what he could mean by that. She had never gone about slaver business, beside myself, while I had been with her. And I had been with her for a while. When had she had time to meet this man and gain a reputation with him? One that made him not question her abducting people?

The man leaves not long after their argument. He's odd. His suit is clean save for the same dust that covers everything. He carries only a pistol, nothing else. He has a full head of dark hair, as well as facial hair, which I've never seen on a ghoul before in my life. He brushes past me angrily, not paying me any mind. He doesn't look back before slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 2: Washing Off the Blood

Come morning, the woman looks ten times worse. Her bruises are now dark and the level of damage is clearer. The morning light coming through the cracks of the walls shines light on what has happened to her.

 The man in the suit is nowhere to be seen. He never came back after he left last night.

I’ve been watching her all night, as Vian ordered. The bound woman has been nodding on and off throughout the night but she never slept for long. Although she's said "piss off, ghoul" multiple times throughout the night, she hasn't really lashed out at him or tried to escape. 

“I don’t suppose you’d let me outta here,” the woman says. I can’t tell if she’s been drugged or if it’s just exhaustion making her slur her words. 

She groans when I don’t respond. 

“Can I have water?” she asks. 

I look at her. Her voice is hoarse. Who knows what Vian would permit her to have, though. It’s best to just not risk it.

“Do you even speak English, motherfucker?” she slurs again, her head falling to the side of her shoulder. She sighs loudly, “whatever.”

The blood that’s dried on her face, hair, and.. well, everywhere, is starting to flake off with her movements. Her hair is a molerat’s nest and she reeks of iron. The ventilation in this house being what it is, the whole room smells of it.

Later that morning, Vian emerges from her room. She unties the woman from the workbench, then re-ties her hands together in front of her. She drags her from the metal floor she had sat on all night to bring her in front of us.

“You smell like hell,” Vian says to the woman.

The woman just looks back at her. 

I back off and little, taking a few steps away without turning my back on them. I don’t like this. I don’t like where this is going and I don’t want to be a part of it. I can’t imagine what Vian has planned for this woman and I don’t want to imagine. What is she going to do, sell her? That was if Vian had captured her herself, which it seemed to me like she had.. That didn’t rule out the possibility that she had went out and bought the woman from a slaver. And in that case-

“Charon.” Vian says.

“Yes.” I reply. 

“You take her to the bathroom and you wash her off. She’s too dangerous to be untied. I don’t need her trying to stab us while she’s loose. Just cut those off her and I’ll find her something else to wear.”

I freeze. Seconds go by, no one says anything. I struggle to swallow. The woman and I meet eyes from across the room and her face goes from totally blank to enraged in less than a second.

“You have to be kidding me!” the woman shouts into Vian’s face.

“Now. Charon.” Vian says.

I mutter profanities under my breath, taking the woman by the arm. The order is already itching in my brain, demanding to be adhered to, urging me on. I drag the woman one handed to the bathroom. Vian wanders off to find clothes, unbothered as the woman shouts and thrashes against my arm. 

We get to the tub. It’ll take several minutes to fill. The pipes make an awful din but the water flows at a heavy trickle. 

I take deep breaths to steady myself. Deep breaths. In and out. We’re not going to harm her, it’s just a bath. I have my back to her as she sits slumped at the bathroom door. I wasn’t dumb enough to leave it open, lest she try to make a run for it and I have to chase her down.

I sigh heavily, willing the ache in my head to go away while the order sizzling in my brain sits idle. I turn to face her. She flinches. 

“Let’s go,” I say. 

She shakes her head side to side vigorously, curling away. 

“Come on. I have to do this,” I insist. “Let’s just get it over with.”

She shakes her head again. “No,” she says.

“Alright,” I say. Her shoulders drop for just a millisecond before she realizes I’m actually leaning in to grab her, not giving up.

If her hands weren’t tied behind her back she would absolutely be clawing the hell out of me. Small mercies. Her legs are free, though. She kicks and tries to bite at me, thrashing against me as she yells stormy words into my ear.

“Charon.” I hear through the door.

“Yes.” I say, gruff. The woman takes the opportunity to stomp on my foot. Hard. I don’t feel it through my boots. I turn to look at her. She looks back up at me, her glare ablaze. Her eyes are narrow. Dark. Her face is covered in speckles and spots. Not unlike mine used to be. 

“You shut her up,” Vian hisses through the door. “I don’t want to hear another peep from this bathroom. We’ll have the whole town eavesdropping at this rate.”

“Yes.” I say again. 

“Good.”

“Get the hell off me,” the woman says.

Suddenly my knife is between us, only inches from her face. “Any more shouting and I won’t just be cutting your clothes,” I tell her. 

The defiant look in her eye wavers at this. If the additional order wasn’t blazing in my mind on top of the first, I would have felt a little bad.

Her shirt is thin and cuts off very easily. She stands quiet and still, seeming ashamed. Or just scared. I don’t know. Her back is turned to me and I can’t see her face. Thankfully. I’m glad she can’t see mine. She doesn’t wear anything underneath her shirt. I take it off of her and toss it aside. 

“Undo the button of your pants,” I tell her. She hesitates and her shoulders shake but she does it. The jeans fall to the floor. 

“Can I leave my underwear on?” she whispers. Her voice trembles.

“Yes.” I say.

She exhales a shaky breath. 

A steaming mist floats up from the tub and into the cool air. The water is lukewarm. She dips her feet in it carefully, then squats down and works into a sitting position.

There’s an assortment of plain, non-scented soap bars on the shelf in this room. Normally a box of shredded soap sits next to the tub but today it’s nowhere to be seen. That would have been too convenient, I suppose. Sprinkle some flakes in for her and let her figure it out? No, that would have been too easy. It must have run out. I don’t even see the empty box anywhere.

I select one of the bars from the shelf. A sleeve from a old shirt from a box full of rags. The rope around her wrists has rubbed her skin raw. It will probably burn once the soap hits it. I dunk the bar into the water at her feet. It suds slightly against the cloth. 

“So what the hell are you, her maid?” she spits at me.

I don’t respond. 

She cringes away from my touch as the soapy cloth hits her back but she doesn’t yell anymore. She has prominent tan lines all over her body, try as I might not to stare. She hunches in on herself, drawing her shoulders forward. She’s a long-limbed person. Lanky, almost. Malnourished, for sure. A lot of people are. Maybe the majority of wastelanders, even. While her face is full-cheeked, I can see her ribs on her back and her knees are even somewhat knobby.

I wipe the cloth along her back, scrubbing at her lightly. This would be a lot easier if she wasn’t so filthy. If she wasn’t covered in grime I could just let her dunk herself in the water really quick and call it good. Unfortunately, that’s not going to cut it. On this thought, I eye her matted hair.

“You’re going to have to put your head in the water,” I say.

She looks at me from the corner of her eye. Now that she’s turned towards me I can see the tears rolling down her face. 

“You’re covered in blood,” I insist. “She won’t be happy if you come out dirty.”

She looks away from me, down at the water. Then she slowly unfurls herself, shaky breath loud in the quiet room. She does her best to rinse the gore from her hair but struggles with her hands tied. I end up doing it for her. The soap doesn’t do much for the grease in her hair but it takes the blood out. The bath water is tinged pink, little bubbles of soap forming alongside the edges of the tub. 

The persistent force in my head is starting to calm now that I’m following through. The ache is subsiding, and with it, my blind desire to obey. As the blinders begin to fade, I begin to actually feel the awkwardness and pain of this situation. Her hair is soft in my hands and I try not to pull at all of the tangles in it. The last time I was doing this, it was with my own hair. It seems like forever ago.

The door opens. The woman in the tub flinches. It’s Vian.

“Okay, good?” she asks. “Here’s some clothes for her,” she sets them on the chair next to the door and is gone again.

I stand from my kneeling position on the floor, my knees crackling and popping on my way back up. She’s already slipping her way out of the tub. She lets me wrap a towel around her. I leave. It’s over. 

I retreat to the couch, grumbling about my sleeves and my front getting wet. The two of them stay upstairs for most of the day, Vian only coming down to fetch food. She has the woman doing something on the computer upstairs but I don’t rejoin them to look. 

Many hours later I’m assigned to watch over the woman as she sleeps again. That night my head is spinning and my stomach turns. The image of a knife tearing at cloth cuts through my mind over and over again. It goes on all throughout the night. The sound of tearing fabric plays sing-songy and mocking in my ears, though the house is dead silent. 

I don’t so much as doze that night. Flashes of today’s events. Flashes of the past. I don’t move as I guard her. I barely blink as I watch the door from above. For the first time in a while, I’m tired. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

still mine ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 1570

request?: no

description: after they’ve been reunited, he starts acting a little weird and she finds out why by accident

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, gets a little steamy but only mentions of sex

masterlist (one, two)

I gripped onto my seatbelt as Warren hit the breaks and spun our vehicle around. We jerked to a harsh stop as I looked out the window to see a familiar old man jumping and waving his arms around at us, and a much more familiar lanky figure in a shopping cart behind him.

“Steven Beck, where the hell have you been?!” Warren called as she was the first out of the vehicle and rushing to hug Doc. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“What happened to me? What happened to you?” Doc asked.

“Uh, you didn’t see the hoard of spider zombies?” Addy asked.

“Spider zombies? Damn, no.”

While the group filled Doc in on what he missed, I walked over to the shopping cart with my unconscious boyfriend inside of it. I was afraid I was having a heat induced hallucination. The last time I had seen 10k, he was being taken away onto a submarine to be treated for gunshot wounds. Then that submarine promptly exploded, seemingly with 10k still on it.

I had spent the last few weeks believing 10k was dead. Now, seeing him in front of me, very much not blown to pieces, I was afraid to believe he was alive.

But then I touched his hand - warm, flesh, real - I knew it was real; he was real. I covered my mouth to keep from making too much noise as a sob erupted from my throat.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see it was Doc. “We should get him out of the sun. He’s been through a lot.”

Once 10k was placed into the back of our vehicle, Doc started telling us about how he found 10k and the condition he had been in. I tuned him out after a short period of time. All I could focus on was as I gently stroked his face. His hair, somehow still soft during the zombie apocalypse, between my fingers as I brushed a few stray hairs behind his bandana.

His blue eyes as they snapped open and he jumped up.

“Hey, hey,” I said, taking his face in my hands to make him look at me. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Recognition crossed over his face as he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “(Y/N)?”

“It’s me, baby. Doc brought you back to me.”

In an instant, 10k was sat up and pressing his lips against mine. His hand moved from my cheek to my hair while mine fisted around his shirt. I was so lost in the moment, the memories of these lips on mine, that I forgot we technically had an audience until Warren cleared her throat.

“Good to have you back, kid,” she said, a knowing smile on her face as she looked between 10k and I.

“Good to be back,” 10k said.

Warren looked between the two of us. 10k’s hands were still in my hair and my hands were still tangled in his shirt. We were both basically on the cusp of getting it on right then and there.

“Let’s leave these two to...reunite,” she said.

Addy made a disgusted face while Doc commented, “You two better open a window. I don’t want to rive in a vehicle that reeks of sex.”

10k’s face turned blood red as he looked away from them. Warren winked at me as she closed the door, leaving 10k and I totally alone.

The minute the door was shut, 10k lunged at me again. His lips were against mine, hungry and needy. The force of the kiss knocked me backwards. 10k’s hand cradled my head as we laid on the hard floor. I giggled as he began kissing down my neck, his slight stubble tickling my skin.

“Are you sure you want this right now?” I asked. “You’ve been through a lot, you need some rest.”

“I need you,” he said, his voice husky with lust.

My better judgement told me that 10k needed rest, but his tone of voice made the ache between my legs grow too much to ignore it.

His lips met mine again and my hands trailed to his hair. He jumped suddenly, taking hold of my wrists.

“I...I have an injury on my neck,” he said. “It-it’s still pretty, uh, tender.”

“What? 10k, are you okay?”

I tried to look, but he grabbed me again. “I’m fine, I promise. Just...don’t touch my neck, okay?”

I wasn’t sure how much I believed him, but I decided not to argue. I wanted to get to the good part of our reuniting.

10k made quick work of taking off my shirt and pants, leaving me mostly bare in front of him. His clothes erection pressed between my legs, sending a shiver down my spine. I wanted him, all of him, right now. His attempts to unbutton his own pants told me he wanted the same thing.

His lips were on mine again, my head was empty of any thoughts as my hands traveled over his body. I wasn’t thinking as they crept up his back again, tracing over the exposed skin just below his neck and then over the scars on the back of his neck.

Wait...they’re not just any scars...they’re...

10k pulled away from me quickly, his eyes wide. I sat up, too, my expression undoubtedly mirroring his own.

“(Y/N),” he said slowly. “It’s not what you think.”

“10k, are you bit?” I asked. “Is that a bite mark? Did one of those fuckers bite you?!”

“No! Not a Z.”

“Then what...how did you...?” I trailed off midsentence as it dawned on me. “Murphy.”

10k’s bottom lip began to tremble and he lowered his head. I moved closer to him, slowly reaching out to gently touch his chin. He looked up at me and I could almost see everything he went through in his eyes. I finally noticed how worn he looked, and I was starting to understand what made him this way.

I took him into my arms and let him cry into my (still naked) shoulder. I held him tightly as he let all of his emotions out. I couldn’t blame him for feeling this way. The last time any of us saw someone that Murphy had bitten, it was Cassandra, and things didn’t exactly end well there.

“I didn’t want this,” he said, his voice breaking as he spoke. “He did it while I was unconscious on the boat. I don’t want to be his blended slave, but I...I can’t shake him. I have these nightmares, I-I - ”

“10k, baby, it’s okay,” I said. I took his face in my hands again and held him so I could look at him. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

“What if we can’t? What if I go all crazy like Cassandra did? Or what if I get completely mind controlled by Murphy and I...and I take his side in this?”

I could see the panic in his eyes and it absolutely broke my heart. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Murphy again. For this, I was dying to be the one to finally end his reign of terror.

I brushed 10k’s hair back again and cupped his chin. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be behind you 100%. We’ll help you find a way to break from Murphy’s control. It has to be easier now than it was after he bit Cassandra. If it was like it was back then, you’d already be more Z than 10k. You’re strong, and you have us.”

He placed his hands over mine, lowering them onto our laps. His thumbs ran over my knuckles. It was such a simple action, but I was realizing then how much I missed it. How much I missed his touch in general, how much I missed him. I didn’t care what Murphy had done to him, I was just glad to have him back. We’d find a way to reverse Murphy’s bite. I was confident in that. We’d figure this out and I’d have my 10k back.

“I missed you so much,” he said as if reading my thoughts. “I spent so much time thinking about you and how badly I wanted to get back to you.”

“I thought about you a lot, too,” I said. “I dreamt about you so often that I never wanted to be awake again.”

I could see a smile trying to form on his face. “Yeah? Must’ve been very good dreams, then.”

There was another change in his tone of voice, one that resembled his tone earlier.

I smirked at him and shrugged my shoulders. “They were. Most of them were just me and you living a normal life together outside of the apocalypse. But then some of them were a bit more...spicy.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “How spicy are we talking?”

I leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Why don’t I show you?” before nibbling his earlobe a little and pushing him back so he was the one laying down.

He looked up at me in shock and lust as I climbed onto his lap and lowered my head to kiss him again. In an instant, we both completely wiped our minds of the conversation we had moments ago and just enjoyed being with one another again.

[lavenderdreams22]

I Love You, Eddie - e.m.

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, mentions of death, slight blood, very little cursing. Kinda angsty.

Requested: Nope, but I have had this idea in my head for weeks. Eddie Munson x Reader.

Walking through the woods to Skull Rock with a bunch of Freshman and Steve Harrington to meet my fugitive boyfriend was never how I imagined spending my Friday night. And a few years ago I would have laughed in your face if you had told me this would be the case, but here we were. Steve led them farther and farther away from me as I stumbled over branches and rocks. I had never been coordinated, it was something that Robin and I had bonded over quite early in our friendship, but it was becoming glaringly obvious as this hike went on just how uncoordinated I really was. 

“Hurry up, Y/N! You’re going to fall behind.” Steve shouted, standing on the trunk of a fallen tree with his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a break, Harrington.” I huffed, stepping carefully. “I’m not trying to roll my ankle.”

“Robin is faster than you!” He threw his arms up before jumping from the trunk and marching over to me as I struggled. 

“Yeah, well…” I started. I had no real excuse, and the words died in my throat as I heard the chiming of a clock in the distance. 

Whirling around, I scanned the trees. There was nothing out there. Not that I could see, anyway. 

“What is it?” Steve asked, stopping a few feet behind me.

“Do you hear that?” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hear what? The sound of our friends leaving us?” Steve grumbled, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“No… I-I can hear a clock chiming…” I said, and he pulled his hand off of me as if I had burned him. 

Suddenly, the woods went quiet, and I scanned them once more. The clock chimed in the distance again, and I shuddered. “Steve, we need to move.”

He didn’t answer, and a chill ran up my spine causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. 

“Steve?” I asked as I slowly turned. He was nowhere to be found. “Steve? Where did you go?” 

“Steve isn’t here. They’ve all left you behind.” A dark voice boomed from behind me. “Just like you’ve left me behind.”

That voice… I knew that voice. But there was absolutely no way that Billy Hargrove was standing in these woods. He was gone. 

“What? Can’t even look at the love of your life?” He chuckled, “I should have known you would waste no time moving on once I was out of the picture. What has it been? Six months?”

“Billy?” Tears pricked my eyes as I turned and was met with blue eyes. He looked the exact same as the day he had died. His white tank top and face covered in his blood. 

He took a step towards me, and even though every fiber of my being told me to run in the other direction, I couldn’t move. He was really here. He was standing here, in front of me. His face was contorted in anger and disappointment, but he was here. 

“How would your new boyfriend feel if I told him how much of a coward you are? It should have been you that day at Starcourt.” He spit, taking another step forward. His breath was now fanning over my face, and I felt the tears falling. 

“Billy, please.” I reached forward to touch his arm. “Please, don’t.”

These thoughts weren’t anything new, I had felt this way every day since he had been killed, but it struck something different in me as I heard the words pass his lips. He had always been an asshole, but he reserved the sweetest parts of himself for me. The snarl on his face right now broke something in me, and I flinched as he swatted my hand away. I had seen Billy angry many times, but never like this. He was murderous, and I was, for the first time, on the receiving end of it. 

“You said that you loved me. Do you remember that? But, if you loved me, you would have known that it wasn’t me that summer, Y/N. Do you feel guilty that I was suffering and you had no idea?” He gritted out through his teeth. “You were so upset about Karen Fucking Wheeler, that you didn’t even notice that I was possessed.” 

“I knew something was wrong, I knew you weren’t you.” I reached out to him, “Please, I was trying to find a way to help you. I was looking for ways to get you back.”

“Liar.” He leaned forward, his face only inches from mine.

“I’m not, Billy. I’m not lying.” I pleaded, taking a step back.

“You are lying. But that’s okay. He’s going to make you pay.” His grin was evil, and I took another step back, tripping over a branch and landing on my ass as he laughed. “Let’s just hope that you have more courage when it comes to your new boyfriend. Have you told him that you love him?”

There was no humor in that laugh. There was nothing of the Billy I had loved left in this person standing over me. I had to be hallucinating, this couldn’t be real. 

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears still streaming down my cheeks, when I heard Steve’s voice. There were hands on my shoulders, on my face. And when I opened my eyes again, Eddie’s concerned eyes were there, watching me carefully. 

“What the hell just happened?” Steve asked, Max and Dustin standing behind him.

I met Max’s eyes, and the tears fell faster. Her eyes softened, and she ran to me, throwing herself to her knees beside me and pulling me into her arms.

“I saw him, Max. He was so real, but it wasn’t really him.” I sobbed into her shoulder, and she nodded. 

“It’s okay, it wasn’t real.” Max said, letting me cry as she tried to soothe me. 

“When were you going to tell us that you were hallucinating?” Steve said, his voice low.

“I didn’t want to scare you guys.” My eyes slipped to Eddie, who was watching me with wide eyes. “And there’s already so much going on.” 

“How long has this been happening?” Max asked, finally pulling away.

“It’s been about half a week, but the headaches and nosebleeds and nightmares have been happening for a while.” I said, still watching Eddie. “Since before Chrissy.”

“It was Billy that you saw, wasn’t it?” Eddie finally said, his hands clenching and unclenching. 

All I could say was, “Yes.”

Everyone seemed to let out a heavy breath at once, but Eddie just watched me, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Alright, well, now we have to move faster. I don’t know which of you will be the next target, but it seems that Vecna likes to have options.” Steve ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Eddie, go grab your stuff, dude.” 

Eddie nodded, before standing and jogging off in the general direction of our original meeting spot. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once we were back in Max’s trailer, Eddie sat next to me. His arm was wrapped around me protectively, as if I might disappear if he wasn’t constantly touching me. They were all working on a plan to hopefully draw Vecna out and then kill him, but I couldn’t focus. My eyes were on Eddie. Taking in the way he spoke, the way he moved, his laugh. He glanced at me several times throughout the planning, and each time he gave me a small, adoring smile.

Once everyone broke off into smaller groups, I turned to him fully. “Can we talk?” I asked, my voice low to avoid eavesdroppers. 

“Of course.” Eddie glanced around, looking for somewhere private, before gesturing down the hall.

We made our way into one of the bedrooms, and he shut the door before leaning back on it, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were wary, and I wrung my hands together as I stared at the patches on his vest. 

“Look at me, princess.” His voice was soft, but full of worry.

“I need to get something out. Before we all run headfirst into the lion’s den. Please let me finish before you say anything. I’m worried that if you interrupt that I won’t be able to say what I need to.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” He pretended to zip his lips closed and toss the key behind him.

I smiled at that, and met his eyes. “I know we’ve only been together for a month and a half, but I realized something today. When I was inside that hallucination.” I paused, and he nodded to let me know that it was okay to continue. “I realized that I love you. I know we haven’t said it, and I don’t expect you to answer me or feel the same yet, but I do. I love you.”

I sighed, watching him closely. His eyes were unreadable, and I continued. "Every day since the day we met I have felt more myself than I have in a long time. I never thought that I would be able to fall in love again, not after Billy... But you helped me feel like I was worth it. You made me want to live. And I will always be grateful to you, so no matter what happens to me, or to you, when this is all over… Just know that you are the greatest thing to ever happen to me, and that I love you, Eddie.”

He nodded, before pushing himself off of the door. “Am I allowed to talk now?” He asked. I only nodded. His face split into a grin, and I felt the room light up around us. “I have been waiting for the right time to tell you this, but I love you, too. I didn’t want to do it in the middle of the apocalypse, but now that we’re here, I couldn’t imagine saying it any other time.: He stepped forward, pulling me into his chest.

We stood in each other's arms for a moment, his chin resting on the top of my head before I pulled back to look into his eyes.

“You’re not just saying it back because of the impending apocalypse, are you?” I joked, grinning at him.

He laughed a little, brushing a stand of hair out of my eyes. “I have been in love with you, and known that I was in love with you for weeks now. I had planned this elaborate date, flowers and dinner and stargazing, the whole nine yards so that I could tell you. I wanted to make it special.”

“It’s still special because it’s you.” I grinned, and he dipped closer to me, his lips brushing against mine.

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. And I will still love you when the world ends, or if you have another hallucination of your ex boyfriend.” He stopped, and laughed as I rolled my eyes. “I will love you for the rest of my life.” Eddie said before he pressed his lips to mine.

It was soft and slow, and I felt myself melting into his arms as he smiled into the kiss. 

“What?” I asked, pulling away slightly.

“It feels different now that we’re in love. Sweeter, almost.” He laughed again before he pressed his lips to mine again. 

This time, the kiss was needy and rushed. Our lips moved in sync, and I felt my heart beat speed up as he walked me back towards the bed on the opposite wall. His hands slipped down to my hips, his fingers finding the exposed skin of my sides as my shirt rode up, and he traced circles there, his rings cooling my heated skin. 

My hand roamed down his chest to the waistband of his jeans, and he groaned into my mouth as my fingers slipped under his shirt and over the skin of his abdomen. As he started to shrug off his jacket, there was a loud knock at the bedroom door. 

“Everything alright in there, love birds?” Steve called from the other side.

“Yes, we were just talking.” I said, as Eddie caught his breath. 

“Alright, well we need to get going. Hurry it up.” Steve said, twisting the knob. Eddie had at some point locked the door. “Why is this door locked?” 

“You’re their babysitter, not ours.” I snapped, stomping over to the door and unlocking it.

Steve pushed it open and eyed us both. “If you want to get in each other's pants, how about you cross the street and do it in Eddie’s bed instead of Max’s moms?”

“Get out of here, Steve.” I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. 

“Okay, okay. But leave the door open.” 

“Yes, mom.” Eddie said, his back still to the door as he tried to compose himself.

It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, but he made his way back down the hall. Eddie turned slowly to look at me, his eyes bright with amusement.

“Wanna take up his offer and go back to mine?” Eddie asked, crossing the room to envelop me in his arms.

“After we save the world, my love.” I grinned at him, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

“Okay, after we save the world, then.” He pulled away, taking my hand and pulling me down the hallway to the rest of the group. Even with impending doom looming over all of us, I couldn't keep the smile off of my face.

[nocapesdahling]

Cousin Helmut

Helmut Zemo x F! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: Helmut Zemo is an Addams, and his family couldn’t be more proud of him.

Rating: T 

Warnings/Tags: Crossover; Mostly Gen.; Canon-typical Addams Family elements, such as casual discussions of murder; I pictured and characterized the Addams Family as they were in the 90′s movies, but feel free to picture them however you’d like.

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so here we are. I love the Addams Family movies so much and this was a lot of fun to write. Hope you enjoy this, and have a very happy Halloween!

Word Count: 762

“Cousin Helmut is in the news again.” Wednesday Addams stabbed her breakfast as she watched her father read the newspaper, reading the front page as he read the inside. He had skipped to the obituaries without glancing at the rest, like he did every morning. He’d share any particularly good ones with the rest of the family. 

“He is? I knew it was only a matter of time. What a delightful fellow. What has he done this time? Rejoined a kill squad? Another bombing? More messing with the Avengers? That was a stroke of genius.” Gomez’s voice was gleeful.

“He broke out of prison and now they’ve caught him again. They’re putting him in The Raft.” Wednesday hadn’t seen Cousin Helmut in years, but she wondered if he had gotten any better at Wake the Dead. It seemed that he’d improved at Homicide.

“The Raft? How wonderful. An Addams has never been put there before. Imprisoned once before and now The Raft. What a milestone.” Morticia let a small smile curve her lips as she thought of Helmut. He had always been such a good boy, so clever and bloodthirsty. A good Addams. 

“It also says that those Flag Smashers were going to The Raft too, but they were blown up. With no suspects!” Uncle Fester sounded excited. Explosions always got his attention.

“Ah, must be Helmut’s doing. He has such talent.” Gomez missed sword fighting with his nephew. He was a much better opponent than old Tully had been. 

“I wonder when he’ll break out next. Do you think we can ask him to come visit? I want him to teach me how to kill a super soldier.” Wednesday’s voice was filled with anticipation. She had never killed a super soldier before and now she wanted nothing more. 

“I don’t know, dear. But knowing Helmut, it won’t be too long. Then again, maybe he’ll enjoy it. Your Uncle had such an unhappy time in prison that he only escaped when he got bored.” Morticia hadn’t had the pleasure of being incarcerated herself, but paused to imagine what fun the other inmates must be. She continued, “Dear Helmut. His mother must be so proud of him. What a good man he turned out to be. A fine example of an Addams. We haven’t had someone so prolific in years.”

They all went quiet, thinking about Cousin Helmut and his accomplishments. They were something any Addams would be proud of. When they next saw him, they’d have to dance a Mamushka. He deserved it. 

In the silence, they heard the doorbell ring and Lurch answer it, “You rang?”

The Addams Family heard a voice, your voice, from where they were sitting. “Yes, I would like to speak to Mr and Mrs. Addams please. I need their help to break my husband out of prison.”

Morticia glided toward the door, Gomez and the rest of the family on her heels. She laid eyes on you and contemplated your appearance for a moment. It was apparent that you were not a born Frump or Addams by the open smile on your face. 

“Who are you, étrangère? And who is your husband? ”

“Oh Tish, that’s French.” Gomez stepped closer and began kissing up her arm.

“I’m Helmut Zemo’s wife, and I want him back. Will you help me?” You held your head high and maintained eye contact, just like Helmut told you to do when faced with his aunt.

Morticia curled her lips into the beginnings of a smile and reevaluated you. If Helmut had seen fit to marry you, then he had for a reason and you were now family, blood or not. “Yes, we will help you. It’s been some time since we staged a prison break. Hasn’t it, mon cher?”

Gomez paused his kisses, “A prison break, cara mia? It has been too long.”

“Please come in.” Morticia gestured inside and you took your first steps into the Addams Family Manor. 

“Lovely graveyard by the way. I look forward to being buried in it.” Your voice sounded cheerful.

You walked further into the house, pausing to stroke the snout of the bear rug, while Morticia and Gomez lingered behind.

“She’s normal, cara mia.”

“That may be. But she’s an Addams now. She’s family, mon cher. And she married Helmut, so how normal can she be?”

“You’re right, Tish. A prison break! You spoil me, querida.”

“Mon sauvage…”

The two kissed in the doorway, before following after their guest. It looked like they’d be seeing Helmut again much sooner than they’d thought. How delightful.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

A/N: Would anyone be interested in a prequel, which would have the backstory of how the reader and Zemo met and fell in love? If you are, then please let me know and it may be something I’ll work on posting in the future. 

I have an ongoing series and oneshots for Helmut Zemo on My Masterlist if you’d like to check them out.

I’m tagging some people, who seemed interested in Zemo as an Addams, who were kind enough to listen to me talk about my ideas for this fic, and who requested to be tagged. Thanks everyone! I hope it’s alright that I’m tagging you: @clints-lucky-arrow ; @creme-bruhlee ; @lafemmedezemo ; @lindir ; @bruehl ; @andsheloved ; @marvelmusing

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five  

=================================

Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you���re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.  

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.  

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard​

PART 7

[watchmegetobsessed]

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

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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.

“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?

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[awindylife-writes]

The Bar

Relationships: 10th Doctor x reader, Jack Harkness x reader (platonic)

Summary: Jack, the Doctor and you go to a bar. You are drugged and a man tries to take you but the Doctor luckily intervenes in time.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, but nothing graphic

"C'm on guys, there's this really great bar on the far side of Kristella, the lnky Sky," Jack insisted. "They serve everything you could want to drink, they've got live music and there's a festival coming! It's like Halloween on Earth, but the whole planet does it. They've even got punch!"

You grinned, "Well, l'm in." Why not? You wanted to have the experience with the two best friends you had, and it wasn't just any day you could go to an alien bar.

The Doctor and Jack looked at you in surprise.

"What?" you glanced between them, eyebrows raised.

"I mean it's just..." Jack began, "l never thought you were a bar enthusiast."

"Oh, l'm not," you assured him. "I just don't see why we shouldn't go. I mean, we faced the Shadows of Onn just two days ago and then the whole icky Persistence Incorporated lot like, yesterday. A bar should be a nice change of pace, unless you really don't want to go, Doctor?" Both you and Jack turned to look at him and he rubbed the back of his neck under your gazes.

"Weeeell, if you insist," the Doctor shrugged his shoulders and Jack pumped the air, "Yes!"

"Aright then," you smiled. "Jack, what exactly do we want to wear?"

The TARDIS wardrobe awaited you.

~

So far, so good, you thought to yourself.

You had arrived at the bar and quickly claimed a stand-by table. You were lucky you had gotten it, there wasn't much space left. A band was playing, as Jack had promised, and there were enough people dancing to create a crowd. The music was alien and had some surprising metaphors, but there was a nice rhythm to it and you found yourself nodding along. You apprechiated the volume too, it was quiet enough to talk over it where you were standing.

The before-mentioned punch cost a laughable two Eeti and most took the generous opportunity, you included. Nevermind the Doctor and his "It smells funny" comments. Jack ordered something bright pink and alien at the bar while you scooped the punch into a glass. The Doctor stuck with apple juice.

It didn't take long for Jack to spot a cute guy at a table next to yours. You and the Doctor smiled knowingly when they started flirting across the way. Soon, Jack gave you a questioning look and you laughed. "Go on," you nodded your head towards the neighbouring table.

He smiled in grattitude and hugged you hurriedly. You patted his back.

"Go on, get outta here," the Doctor told Jack, voice warm.

"I want you back before noon, got it?" you levelled Jack's gaze in mock seriousness. He flipped you a salute before walking out, hand in hand with the guy.

The Doctor and you continued your conversation. As he rambled on about the rings of Ahknaten, you rubbed your eyes. Was it just you or was everything getting a little blurry? Maybe your alchohol tolerance was even lower than you had thought.

Then you noticed the Doctor was eyeing Jack's half finished drink, and you could tell he was curious.

"C'm on, Doctor," you grinned at him. "This is exactly the place and the time to try something like this."

He gave you a questioning look, and you nudged him with your elbow. "I dare you."

"Weeell, you see, now l just can't refuse. My honor absolutely cannot take a hit like this," he shook his head in mock offence, a smile playing at his lips. He carefully held the glass and took a tentative sip. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Ooh, is it any good?" You had to make an effort to sound chirpy. Maybe all the running was finally catching up to you, because you felt like you were about to nod off.

The Doctor cocked his head. "Actually, it's sweet. I didn't even consider alcohol could be sweet, didn't even think. Who made alcohol sweet? Brilliant invention I mean, if my taste buds have anything to say about it. It's not gonna have an effect on me, me being a Time Lord and all that, but l've never bothered with stuff like this, it didn't seem nearly as interesting as a new world behind the TARDIS door, but now that l consider it-"

"You're gonna go order another one?" You gently interjected his rambling.

"Mhm, yeah, l'll definitely order another one," he answered with a grin.

"Good for you. Oh, and you could go pay as well?" you suggested. You didn't think you would be ordering anything else, not with your head as fuzzy as it was.

He took the money out of his pocket (you had reminded him to get some before you'd arrived, it wasn't exactly like you, a human from Earth, had Kristellan currency on hand). "I'll be right back," he promised you and headed for the bar.

You didn't mind standing there at the table on your own, but it was a little akward. You felt like a sore thumb, standing out from the mixture of creatures around you. You watched the people at the edge of the dance floor, their shapes and colours blurring. Was that supposed to happen? You couldn't seem to take enough air in, though you tried to breathe deeply. The mist in your mind spread, and bit by bit it got harder to think. You stared vacantly at the moving shapes, trying to remember where the Doctor had gone. Why were your legs so weak?

Then there was someone at your side, holding your hand and asking you something. Something about dancing? You nodded, unsure what he wanted, and he grinned. Then he pulled you from the table, and that wasn't right. You were in the middle of the crowd now, and the green tinted man had his arms around you. What was happening?

~

The Doctor found himself staring at the punch bowl while he waited for his drink. There was something about it, something niggling at the back of his brain.

Then the air moved, and he could smell the scent of it again. But what was that, that tinge, something barely there, something like an acid? Something hydroxy... something with butan... hydroxybutan....

Y-hydroxibutanoic acid. The Doctor felt his blood run cold.

He whipped around and grabbed the unsuspecting barista by her wrist. "Listen to me, right now," he growled and her golden eyes widened. "That punch bowl is spiked, and everyone here could be in danger. Do something about it."

She nodded in horror so he knew she understood the urgency and turned to her colleague, her voice grave. He left all his money on the counter without a thought, he needed to find y/n.

~

When he arrived back at your table, you were gone. He looked around in panic. You had drunk the punch at least twenty minutes ago, which was definitely enough time for the drug to kick in. If anyone tried-

Then he finally found you. His hearts sped up. A man with his hand around you was pulling you through the crowd, towards the door. The Doctor saw your wobbling, unsteady steps, saw you still try to get the man's hands off of you.

White-hot fury exploded in his chest, it burned everything away. His hands tightened into fists at his sides and trembled with his rage. Blood rushed in his ears as he gritted his teeth into a snarl. This was it, this was what Daleks were afraid of. He ripped through the crowd withought a thought to anyone.

Upon reaching you, he pushed the two of you apart. The creep stumbled to the side but at once, the Doctor gently took you by the shoulders to hold you up. Yes, there was fury in him enough to scorch planets, but this was you.

Your eyes foggy, you tensed in his arms and shakily tried to break free, but he soothed you with a soft voice. "Hey, hey, it's me, it's the Doctor." You immediately stopped fighting.

"Doct'r," you slurred and fell into his chest, eyes half closed.

"What the hell, man?" the creep demanded.

The Doctor pressed you against his side and turned so he was holding you up the furthest you could be from the man who had tried to- No. He couldn't even think about it.

"Hey! Dont cockblo-" the turd came at the two of you but the Doctor grabbed his lapel and pulled him close. The creep's eyes went wide as he tried to break free.

It was easy, so incredibly easy to hold him in place. The Time Lord rarely used his full strength, always relayed on his mind, because he'd seen what war meant. But now the restraints were snapping like paper strings and the beast in him rattled its chains.

"You get one warning, just one. So listen closely," he growled in the turd's face. "Run. Run far and run fast, because if l see you, if l so much as smell you in the wind, l will find you, and l will teach you the meaning of hell." He suddenly released the creep who stubled from the force of it and scurried away, into the crowd.

The Doctor looked down at you and all rage evaporated. Your head was resting on his shoulder and you were leaning into him to stay upright. Your eyes were closed. He gripped you a little tighter and cooed, "Hey there. Let's get you home, aright?"

You hummed, only half-coherent at best, and nuzzled into him. Butterflies immediately filled his stomack, but this was not the time for that. He tried to take a step, but it soon became apparent that you couldn't walk.

The Doctor carefully lifted you into his arms and headed for the TARDIS.

~

When you two finally reached your room, he gently sat you on the bed where you wobbled a little but stayed upright. He kneeled down and unlaced your shoes. When they were off, he thought you would want him to leave, but then he felt your warm hand clumsily catch his.

"Stay," you mumbled and he looked up into your hazy eyes.

He felt his hearts beat faster at the soft look you gave him. He wanted to find that man and rip him apart, he wanted to give you the universe, wanted to wrap himself around you and never leave.

He could never refuse you.

"Alright," he whispered. He slowly stood up and pulled back the covers so you could get into the bed, then he took off his jacket and his shoes.

When he clambered in, he planned on staying away from you, but you found him and pressed yourself against him. You lay your head on his chest as your hands hugged his sides. When you nuzzled your cheek into his shirt and sighed in content, he felt something soft and warm spread through him. Of course he'd known you trusted him, but this- You were helpless, utterly helpless, and you trusted him to hold you. A thousand stars glowed in his chest as he put his arms around you.

A voice in his head told him he maybe shouldn't be enjoying this, considering the cause that had led you two here, but it was small and distant and not impossible to ignore. You were safe.

He nuzzled his cheek into your hair and fell asleep with you in his arms.

[mochikeiji]

Enough For Me

Request: "Congratulations on 1k!!! you deserve it, you’re a really good writer. Can i request prompt 12 “please don’t cry” angst to fluff with yuuta from jjk. thank you, congrats."

12. "please, don't cry."

↠ Pairing: Okkotsu Yuta x Reader

↠ Warning: angst to fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.5k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

When did every thing become so loud?

One minute you were similing. Laughing loud with a hint of the obvious enjoyment masked on your features. Then second you're staring to nowhere but silence greeting you. An expression so dim that the light in your eyes wasn't present as well. Left at the forest training grounds, the others had already gone back to their dorms. You told them you were staying for a bit for extra training when in reality, you were looking for an outlet without anyone witnessing your hour of vulnerability.

Stupid clan and their elders. As disrespectful as it may sound, you understood now why Gojo despises them. Loud it was to the point it deafens your ears; the murmurs of a child cast away from the bloodline because of the mockery it holds. A no good sorcerer was never welcome in families like yours. People would still chew on your head even when you have your backs turned on them. So frustrating it was to shoulder a burden of their devilish gossip and expectations.

At first it was alright. You handled it well. But to the extent where one of the higher ups brought it up during a meeting? How many people know of you and the disappointment you carry?

Gojo had his fist clenched that day. Maki understood you more than anyone, having to be someone who ran away from her clan as well. Inumaki and Panda did their best in comforting you, telling you that humans are weird to drag other humans down when they're the same race. That was just being so entitled, said Panda. You however, convinced your comrades you were fine. You were used to it. And it was fine.

It didn't matter what other's say as long as other's knew you for what you weren't, right?

That doesn't mean you couldn't help but become overwhelmed of the impact they had on you. Like knives forcefully shoved their ways through your heart. The pack of negative energy should've been enough to form a large curse that could take you.

Loud it was indeed. To have so many people shit their way into your life when you only wanted to live yours and not bother theirs.

You gulped down the heavy lump in your throat. Caught up in the fog of profanities from the world. Who were you kidding, you weren't Maki who can handle all this thrown at her. Tumbling and falling, that was all you knew about yourself in your whole life. The nails that grip in your palms pierced through the skin as blood trickles down, no amount of pain could level the amount of pent up emotions you buried in your heart.

Perhaps you've were born in the wrong time and place. If only you were a simple civilian, maybe life wouldn't be so bad. A loving family would be there, instead of the ones that were throwing their unfulfilled dreams to their children and controlling of their destiny.

The look in your mother's eyes will forever haunt you. Looking already as tired as you were, her eyes spoke more emotion than you could ever endure as loveless, empty ones met your teary gaze that very day.

"I only wanted a daughter who could've done so much for me as I've given her life after birth."

Your heart throbs, soon you were down on the dirt covered ground on your knees. The weight of her words colliding in the world you swore was a safe space for you. It shouldn't matter. Not when they've cast you away and yet, no matter what there is, she was still your mother.

And still the pain is as fresh as ever coming from the one you used to call, "family."

As loud as your world was, your cries were louder and clearer this very night. As if with all your might, you wanted to scream from above on how this was truly unfair. Wanting someone— anyone to hear you curse at the world you were forced to live in. It hurts your lungs, it was indeed hard to grasp small bits of oxygen when your insides felt like they were shrinking from the compact.

You wish you could scream at your mother that deep inside you still loved her. Even as a child who never received the motherly love they deserved, you loved her dearly. It was by instincts and the remains of your vision as a baby, being held in someone arms in hushing your cries.

The surface felt so firm unlike you remembered how it was when you were young. Yet the warm embrace felt nostalgic as it shielded you from the cold blistering wind of the night, you find yourself searching against the surface without a care of any danger or anything anymore. You wanted to be comforted for once. To not feel alone.

"Please don't cry."

Small hushes drowned out your sobs, an arm wrapped firmly around your waist while the other pets your head at the outmost caring matter. Curling closer, your hand held the one on top of your head. Taking in the rough texture, but reminding yourself that someone was now here in your time of need. Here after being away most of the times.

"Yeah, it's me." sensing your troubles as he averts his gaze away from you as if he was embarrassed. "I heard what happened. I managed to finish up much just to get here." next to him was the blade he carries around. Probably less hazardous as to why he place it down.

"Yuta.." sobbing as you clutched on the white material he wore. He immediately reverts back to soothing you in your distressed state. Something about the way he holds you only made you tear up more. It broke his heart in pieces to see you hold onto him as if he was the only person left to anchor yourself. And here he thought he had it worse back then, your body language brought this resemblance to the girl he used to hold just as he was doing now.

"Shh, I promise you that none of those words said about you is true."

Easier said, he knew that. It was easy to reassure someone of their thoughts, but it's not that easy to erase. The mind is a wondrous and torturous place to be in. Old memories can be dug out to the surface and you'd still feel the emotion like it just happened yesterday. Oh if you had Yuta's vision of you, you'd believe in his words.

A strong role model like you is exactly the reason why Yuta aims to be the strongest as well. To help people realize that strength isn't found in the words of other human beings, but within yourself. Yes, it's a harsh world we live in. Those who feel lowly amongst themselves would drag those above them. And those who feel the surge of entitlement snarls at those below them.

But no matter who it is that doubts you, and your potentials, there would always be someone behind you, with the glimmer in their eyes, you are their hope and inspiration in some ways.

That is what Yuta murmurs next to your ear, your cries now subsided to focus on his voice. "You're doing great. We've seen it. I've seen it." facing you with his boyish smiles, you wondered how'd this guy who came looking like a ragged mess become someone twinkling brighter than the stars above the night sky. It was contagious, it made you smile so minimal.

"There's that pretty smile." chuckling, he pats your head softly like treating a little kid. Yuta knows deep down that he can't fully resolve the thoughts inside of you— one of these days you'll have these moments again. And it saddens him because he's often away from you. Yet he's breathless at the fact that you're able to hold yourself off with all these tormenting you.

"You're amazing, darling." came out lower than a whisper before his lips closed in with yours. Last time he kissed you boy was he sweating buckets. He wasn't even as bold as now to be able to initiate first and pull you flush against his chest. But the erratic pace of his heart still was the same as ever. The loudness that had clouded you vanished. All you could hear now were pleasant chorus played by the crickets of the night and the wind lacing together throughout the atmosphere.

He promises to do much more with you for the time being. Help you mend the wounds no one can see and assist with the battles you two could only share and understand. One day as he stated before he would walk through the doors of your clan and prove to them that you were the diamond in the rough they've thrown but he's found.

You were his own butterfly. Beautiful to his eyes, you bestowed your wings; and to yours you cannot see but for people to admire.

"Give yourself more credit. You've done so much, my love."

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[wondernimbus]

two sworn enemies — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: there is only one thing worse than being hated by draco malfoy; it’s being fancied by him.

requests are closed for now! please refrain from plagiarizing my work.

After being on the receiving end of Malfoy's torment for four whole years at Hogwarts—a place where she's supposed to be making friends and learning and making the most out of all her youthful years—[Y/N] is beginning to grow tired.

The last thing she’s supposed to be worrying about is a snarky Slytherin boy who always has some sort of rude remark resting on his lips every time he comes across her in the corridors. Or anywhere, for that matter—Draco Malfoy's incessant jest seems to stay within no boundaries.

Eleven-year-old [Y/N] used to be fazed by it; she used to cry herself to sleep every time the platinum blond would push past her in the hallway, yelling out something offensive on his way, usually to do with her friendship with blood-traitors and the "big-headed" Harry Potter (or so Malfoy referred to him). She used to feel angry—angry enough to want to whip her wand out at him and hex him into oblivion every time he'd even as much as lay eyes on her. But the more Malfoy tried to bother her, the more it didn't anymore.

Fourth year wasn't so bad. Malfoy had already called her about a hundred nasty names at that point and was running out of them—his creativity was dwindling and [Y/N]'s concern along with it. She'd even laughed at him, one time during Transfiguration class—genuinely laughed, not out of frustration or anger but because she found something that he said to her funny.

"How does it feel being surrounded by blood-traitors and Mudbloods, [Y/L/N]? Pity you chose the wrong crowd to hang around."

"How did it feel to get punched by a girl, Malfoy? I hear Hermione packs quite a punch."

Malfoy’s nose had wrinkled into his signature sneer before he scoffed. "Tell Granger she can improve her right hook." At which point [Y/N] had snorted out a laugh—and yes, it wasn't a full-blown burst of chortles, but it was a laugh nonetheless.

Fifth year rolls around and Draco Malfoy is the least of [Y/N]'s worries. She's gotten over his nagging at this point; all his jabs have lost a bit, if not all of their luster.

But then a week after classes have started, Malfoy starts acting—weird. Very weird. [Y/N] has no idea what's gotten into him, but Draco's cruel insults seem to have veered off course and taken a very dramatic turn. He still yells at her in the hallways, but not to make some harmful jibe [Y/N] has heard thousands of times before. Instead Draco—yes, Draco Malfoy, the same boy who has never once failed to torment her in the past years they've known each other—has now made it a habit to yell pick-up lines. At her. At [Y/N]. At the same girl he's been bad-mouthing for the past four years.

The first time it happens, [Y/N] can't believe her ears. She thinks he's yelling at someone else other than her, because there is no way bloody Draco Malfoy is shouting "DO YOU PLAY QUIDDITCH? BECAUSE YOU SEEM LIKE A KEEPER" at her from halfway across the Great Hall.

But he's definitely staring at her, grinning widely in that conceited sort of way that [Y/N] has always despised.

"Is he talking to me?" [Y/N] asks Hermione, bewildered.

"Looks like it." Hermione looks just as surprised as her. "Knowing Malfoy, he's not up to anything good. Ignore him, [Y/N]."

But ignoring Draco Malfoy is not something [Y/N] is capable of; the feistiness in her makes sure of that. So instead of moving on and turning a blind eye, she cups her hands over her mouth and yells, just as loud, "ARE YOU A BLUDGER? BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO BASH A BEATER'S BAT INTO YOUR—"

Whatever Malfoy is up to, [Y/N] isn't entirely sure she's enjoying it. The next afternoon—also in the Great Hall, while [Y/N] is doing her homework instead of eating lunch (because Snape apparently thinks it's a good idea to ask for a four-page essay when the school year has barely even started), there's a thump and [Y/N] looks up to see that there's a little red envelope sitting on her empty plate. Looking even further up, she sees an owl flying away from the table and out of the roof of the Great Hall, where the owls always come from to deliver letters—although that only happens at breakfast. Which means this is from someone else, likely another student.

[Y/N] stares.

"It's a Howler," Harry says from next to her, like she doesn't already know.

"I'm aware," she mutters, narrowing her eyes at it before she sets down her quill to grab it.

"Who would send you a Howler?" Ron has looked up from where he'd been shoveling beans into his plate. He crowds into her space, peering at the envelope she now holds in her hands; and she can't really answer him, because only her name is scribbled across the front in handwriting she doesn't recognize. Whoever sent it to her didn't bother with writing their own name.

She hesitates, brows furrowed as she, too, wonders where it's from. Her parents don't have a reason to send her a Howler—unless she's done something wrong that she isn't aware of. But it's only been a week since school has started and as far as she can tell, she hasn't done anything worthy of being sent a Howler. Or at least not yet.

"Might as well," she sighs—it's going to deliver its message one way or the other, anyway, and [Y/N] prefers to open it herself than have it burst into flames, rain ashes down upon her homework, and then start talking—so she opens the envelope.

The Howler jumps to life in front of her, hovering in front of her face, and [Y/N] has never seen a piece of stationery look so angry before. A forked tongue slips out of the envelope—[Y/N] braces herself for the worst, despite not knowing who on earth might have sent it—until a familiar voice booms around the Great Hall.

"ARE YOU A BASILISK? BECAUSE WHEN I SAW YOU, I FROZE."

Ron's shoulders automatically start shaking with laughter. Most of the Great Hall—or at least the ones close enough to hear the Howler—have turned around to watch the spectacle unfold, giggling behind their palms and pointing at [Y/N] like she can't see them. [Y/N], in the meantime, stares, completely dead to the world and everything else around her, because she knows that voice.

But then the Howler keeps talking. "IF YOU LET ME TAKE YOU ON A DATE, I CAN PROMISE YOU THINGS THOSE FILTHY PEASANTS CAN NEVER GIVE YOU."

The entire hall has fallen completely silent. [Y/N] feels her face burning up, but not with embarrassment—[Y/N] is angry. She feels it thrumming in her veins, curling around her lungs, clouding all of her senses.

With a single flick of [Y/N]'s wand, the Howler bursts into flames with a final feeble wheeze of I'm also a fairly good snogger. Ron is roaring with laughter and Harry has also joined in. Two-faced gits.

[Y/N] slams her palms down on the table and vaguely even registers the pain this gives her as she steps out from behind the bench and turns around to face the Slytherin table because of course she knows who sent the Howler. Of course she knows who would go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, because that extremely irritating, maddeningly haughty voice can only belong to one person—and sure enough, the idiot in question is standing there on top of the benches, arms outstretched towards her and that proud, snooty look on his face like he expects her to actually be impressed.

Over Ron and Harry's laughter, [Y/N] shouts angrily, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy drops his arms to his sides, hops off the bench, and swaggers towards her. She meets him halfway—and when she does, she doesn't hesitate to shove him angrily by the shoulders. He stumbles back a little, but he's still grinning annoyingly wide. "Have you come to me bearing an answer?" he says, his tone mocking, and [Y/N] just barely suppresses herself from whipping out her wand and jabbing it somewhere she wouldn't want a wand anywhere near. They are still surrounded by teachers. "I imagine it's a yes—who would turn me down, after all—"

"Drop the fucking act," she hisses; all eyes are on them, because Hogwarts never passes up a chance for gossip, and this might be the most exciting one yet. Draco Malfoy publicly asking out the girl everyone knows he's hated, and has hated him, for a long time—what a spectacle. But [Y/N] knows that his intentions are far from genuine; this is just another way to humiliate her and get on her nerves. And as much as she hates to admit it, it's a pretty good fucking move, because she hasn't been this annoyed by him in a long time.

Her teeth are gritted together so hard her words barely come out coherent. "I don't know what you're playing at," she practically growls, taking a step closer to get in his face, "But I encourage you to get yourself together."

But Malfoy seems unaffected. "Pity you didn't let the Howler finish," he drawls, still with that same smirk on his lips as he wriggles his brows suggestively. "I could've told you more about my superior snogging skills."

"Which is exactly why I didn't," she fumes. "We're in the middle of lunch—any more of you talking about your 'superior snogging skills' and the entirety of this hall would've thrown up on themselves. I know I would've."

At this, the smile on Malfoy's face droops a little, a ghost of his familiar sneer seeping in. [Y/N] takes a step back away from him, because she can't stand being more than a few feet near the prat. "You've got a lot of nerve, pulling this," she scoffs. "Try it again and you'll regret it. Now excuse me while I go do my bloody homework."

And then she turns around, goes back to the Gryffindor table, and does her bloody homework.

—

But Malfoy, as it turns out, isn't as weak-willed as he lets on. She's started receiving Howlers every morning at breakfast, all of which burst into flames every time to rain ashes upon her innocent plate of eggs and toast, but only after loudly blurting out some ridiculously bad pick-up line. It's been four days since the first Howler and they've only gotten progressively worse ever since—"you must be a Boggart because I'm terrified of pretty women"—and [Y/N] is beginning to grow so very tired.

Today, she hexes him in the middle of the hallway just as he's coming out of Potions class. She had warned him, all those days ago, that he'd regret it if he didn't let up. So [Y/N] watches, terribly amused as Draco starts wailing in the corridor, his hands splayed over his face in a measly attempt to cover the sardines falling out of his nostrils. It's an irreversible hex—or at least for eight hours—but until then, Draco will have to deal with the tiny fishes that shoot out of his nose at random intervals. [Y/N] can't bring herself to feel bad, not when he's humiliated her time and time again in front of so many people.

No Howlers arrive the morning after. There's a sense of what feels like disappointment coming off of the Great Hall; some people have actually turned around in their seats to watch her in anticipation for an owl to come swooping down upon her bearing a red envelope. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't happen. [Y/N], meanwhile, is finally at peace.

Or at least until Ron jabs her in the side and goes, "So are you?" he's grinning. "A Boggart, I mean."

It's a reference to the Howler she received yesterday. Her movements are dangerously swift; immediately she smacks the back of his head, sending him into a complaining frenzy. She rolls her eyes. "Stupid Malfoy."

"As much as I hate to say this," Harry begins, "I kind of wish you hadn't hexed him into stopping. His pick-up lines were pretty funny."

"Ha!" [Y/N] points a finger at Harry and nods approvingly, laughing a little. "That's a good one, Harry."

Harry stares at her dead in the eye. "Oh, I wasn't joking."

Her face falls.

"I suppose being on the receiving end of Malfoy's affection isn't any better than being hated by him," says Hermione, offering [Y/N] a sympathetic smile. "It's a good thing you showed him not to mess with you any further, [Y/N]."

[Y/N] tries for a smile of her own, but it comes out all stiff and crooked. "I feel like the past few days have been a fever dream," she says, shuddering. "This new form of—bullying, I don't know—has just been so weird. The bad names I've gotten used to, but—the compliments? The pick-up lines?"

"D'you think he's gone off his rocker?" Ron suggests.

"Maybe he fancies you," says Hermione off-handedly.

The effect this has on the three is instantaneous; Ron, Harry, and [Y/N] simultaneously blanch as though they've all swallowed something sour at the same time. Ron is choking on a piece of toast and Harry has spit water everywhere.

"Absolutely not," [Y/N] is shaking her head, nose wrinkled in distaste. "He can't possibly—that's ridiculous. We've hated each other for years."

"Feelings do change," Hermione shrugs, rolling her eyes at Ron and Harry, who have yet to recover from their initial shock. "And besides, it was just a suggestion. Although I don't see why he'd go out of his way to send you Howlers repeatedly asking you out if he doesn't fancy you."

"Because he wants to humiliate me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, alright, alright," Hermione sighs, sensing her defeat. "But you never know."

Ron has gathered his bearings once more. He turns to Hermione, genuine concern flooding his features, and blubbers, "Did I hear you right? Malfoy—fancying [Y/N]?"

"Yes, Ronald." Another eye-roll. "It's not that outlandish. Boys are boys—even Malfoy."

"Merlin's beard," he slumps down in his seat, shaking his head. "I don't think I've ever been this surprised. Not since I heard that Percy managed to score himself a girlfriend, and that was three years ago."

A few days pass, and while no more Howlers arrive, Malfoy is still as insistent as ever in his attempts to "woo" her—or, well, whatever it is he's trying to do. [Y/N] doesn’t quite know what to call it anymore; for some reason, it no longer feels like an attempt to bully or humiliate her. It's not as though he's insulting her, and it's not like her reputation is in any way being lessened. In fact, most of Hogwarts, it seems, enjoys the so-called "love-hate relationship" they've got going on, and expects them to get together sometime in the near future.

[Y/N] learns all of this from Fred and George, who are always a good source of gossip.

"What better love story than two sworn enemies falling in love?" George gushes, clasping his hands together.

"So romantic," Fred sings, closing his eyes and swaying his hips as though listening to a sultry tune only he can hear. “Setting aside their differences to answer the call of their hearts."

"Oh, Malfoy's still an arse, of course."

"But it's still romantic."

Part of [Y/N] wishes that the twins hadn’t told her that, because it makes it all the more confusing on her part. If, by some miracle, Malfoy does fancy her—what is she supposed to do? Ride off with him into the sunset? They are enemies—they have been for four, supposedly five years now, except this year Malfoy is being an insufferable twat who won't stop yelling pick-up lines at her in the hallways.

[Y/N] decides to turn a blind eye on him. If she ignores him for long enough, he's bound to stop.

Right?

—

Despite being a close friend to the famous Harry Potter, [Y/N] can say she’s made a name for herself at school that stretches far beyond just that girl who hangs out with the Chosen One. She’s been playing for the Gryffindor Quidditch team for two years and has contributed to some of the house’s most fantastic wins as a Chaser, and she’s also a fairly good student. She may have a penchant for trouble-making, but she knows how to limit herself. She prides herself for her work ethic and thus her grades are above average—enough for her to earn the favor of most of her teachers and for eager first-years to sometimes come up to her asking for help doing homework.

But enough for those very same first-years to come up to her in the hallway ready to do all of her biddings for the day, practically demanding her to hand over her books so that they can carry them for her? No. Certainly not. [Y/N] may have made a name for herself, but definitely not one renowned enough to earn the eleven-year-olds now crowded around her moments after she steps out of potions class, telling her that, “We’re here at your disposal! If you need us to do anything, just say the word!”

[Y/N] stares at the three children clustered around her, all wide-eyed and for some reason incredibly eager for her to start bossing them around.

Taken aback, she ushers them into a corner; the hallway is busy and people will keep bumping into them if they stay in the middle of the hallway like that.

Once away from the bustling main corridor, she bends down a little so that she’s at eye-level with all of them. “At my disposal?” she repeats, eyes narrowing playfully. “What do you mean?”

“We’re here to carry your books for you or grab you snacks from the kitchens or tie your shoelaces if you need us to!” one of them exclaims, bouncing on his toes.

Alright—this is getting ridiculous. [Y/N] pauses, lips pressed together into a thin line as she stares at each one of the first-years in turn; all three of them are staring at her as though waiting for her to start asking them to do push-ups.

She inhales. Someone must have put them up to this, because there is no way these children woke up this morning and simultaneously decided to become her servants for the day.

“Well,” she begins, smiling at them—and good grief, did she really look that young when she was eleven? “Thank you for offering to help me. I appreciate it, really—but lucky for me I’ve got some very capable arms and I think I can handle tying my shoelaces and carrying my books around and whatnot. But again—thank you. You’re all very nice.”

She pauses to look at their reactions; the smiles on their faces have drooped a little as they turn to one another, seemingly at a loss for words. “But,” the one girl says, frowning, “We’re supposed to help you.”

[Y/N] raises her eyebrows. “Supposed to?”

Someone definitely put them up to this—[Y/N] is certain of it now. And she has a good guess as to who.

She starts by saying, tone gentle, “Did someone tell you to do this? Because that’s really kind, and I’d love to thank them.”

The girl bunches up her lips in thought, shuffling her feet against the ground. “We’re not supposed to say,” she mutters, glancing at the two boys next to her nervously.

[Y/N] inhales. She needs confirmation, so she crouches down so that she’s the same height as them, and offers them all the friendliest, most trustworthy smile she can muster. The kind that wins over eleven-year-olds. “You won’t get in trouble if you tell me,” she tells them gently, and waits for them to nod in understanding before she goes, “Was it Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?”

They don’t have to respond—the looks on their faces are enough confirmation. [Y/N] suppresses the urge to roll her eyes, because of course Malfoy is the kind of person to somehow get first-years to do something like this. And she’s pretty sure it has something to do with bribery.

“Did he promise to give you anything, maybe?” [Y/N] presses on patiently.

The girl leans in and cups her hand over her mouth to whisper excitedly, “Chocolate frogs. Five for each of us.”

Ah. Of course. [Y/N] sighs inwardly and nods, standing up properly to once more tower over the tiny first-years. As much as she would love to have her own personal butlers, there is absolutely no way she is agreeing to take any part in exploiting these young kids. So she ruffles all of their hair in turn and promises to give them much, much more chocolate frogs than Malfoy will ever be able to offer if they swear to ignore him for the rest of their lives.

So she stands there in the hallway, a minute late for Transfiguration, watching the three first-years skip down the hallway, grinning excitedly to themselves—no doubt because they’ve just been promised what could be an infinite supply of chocolate frogs.

Which [Y/N] will now have to spend a lump of her summer savings on. Great. Bloody fantastic.

She didn’t think she could hate Draco Malfoy even more than she already did, but now, with the burden of buying chocolate frogs resting on her shoulders, she realizes that anything is possible.

[Y/N] finds Draco later on in the day when she’s heading to the Great Hall for dinner; as she’s passing by a window that coincidentally overlooks the Quidditch pitch, she sees him zooming around the stadium by himself, no doubt practicing to better his (in [Y/N]’s opinion) ghastly Seeker skills.

So she trudges off to the pitch, arms folded over her chest as she yells, “Malfoy!”

He notices, stops in mid-air, and immediately flies down to land in front of her, one hand on his hip and the other resting on top of his broom. That signature smirk is already on his face, mirrored by [Y/N]'s angry scowl. “Here to take me up on my offer for a date?” he grins, shaking his (sweaty, wet) hair out of his eyes. [Y/N] watches the movement, unimpressed. “Or were you just planning to watch me practice?”

She scoffs, tearing her eyes away from the way he’s running a hand through his blond hair. “Neither. I thought you were bad enough, Malfoy, but bribing first-years into doing my bidding for me? In exchange for bloody chocolate frogs?”

Malfoy’s hand pauses in carding through his hair. He drops it back to his side. “So you figured it out.”

”Why else would first-years be so eager for me to boss them around?”

”Maybe because they find you just as beautiful as I do?” he suggests, eyes glinting, the smile on his face growing even wider. [Y/N] lets out a quick breath of incredulous laughter, because is he really still keeping this act up when no one is around to see? Is he that desperate to get on her nerves?

“Just stop it, Malfoy,” she says through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to him. At this, he whistles a little, eyebrows rising, and for some reason [Y/N] tries very, very hard not to look at the sweat trickling down his forehead, the pale pink hue of his cheeks from the strain of practicing—“Please for the love of Merlin can you just drop the whole I’m-in-love-with-you act? You got what you wanted. You’ve annoyed me enough.”

Draco's nose wrinkles. “Oh, but that’s not what I wanted,” the smile on his face falters a little. ”Did you really think I did all of this just to annoy you?”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows furrow—and is that her heart skipping a beat? No. No, definitely not. Falling quiet for a few moments, she finally sniffs and says, “Why else would you go out of your way to act absolutely smitten by me?”

An echo of Hermione's voice from several days ago reverberates through her head. Maybe he fancies you.

Malfoy shrugs, his smirk falling just the tiniest bit to be replaced by a semblance of sincerity. But that can’t be. And then he says, “Maybe I fancy you,” and [Y/N]’s eyes widen.

That can’t be right. Flabbergasted, she blinks, taking a step back. This has to be some sort of joke—no, yes, that’s exactly what this is: another way to crawl under her skin and annoy the daylights out of her. She has to applaud him for his creativity.

Pinching the space between her eyes in irritation, she looks up at Malfoy, inhales, and says, deadpan, “I’m being serious.”

“I am too,” Malfoy counters, eyebrows raised innocently, and [Y/N] has never wanted to smack him more than she does now.

She lets out another incredulous laugh, because this entire situation is just so bloody ridiculous that she can’t quite wrap her head around it. Throwing her hands up in the air in frustration, she turns to him and says, “Alright—okay. Let’s say you do fancy me. I’m going to pretend for a few seconds that you do—okay?”

Draco watches her, evidently amused judging by his grin, shrugs, and nods.

“Okay,” she huffs. “If you do fancy me—why on earth would you?”

Draco opens his mouth, but she cuts him off: “We hate each other, Malfoy. We’ve hated each other since the moment you laid eyes on me and I laid eyes on you. What could have possibly changed your rotten mind?”

He rolls his eyes at this, shifting a little on where he stands. “For starters,” he begins, like he’s talking to a five-year-old, “I didn’t hate you. I disliked the fact that you hung out with the wrong sort of people.”

”The wrong sort of people,” she repeats, deadpan.

“The Weasleys. Blood traitors. Mudbloods.”

She scowls at him, brain struggling to fathom what the bloody hell he’s trying to tell her. Managing to once more plow through her confusion, she says, “Your point is?”

“I’d have asked you out long ago if only you were smarter with who you chose to befriend,” and there it is—that familiar, distasteful sneer [Y/N] hasn’t seen in a long time. “Your family’s one of the oldest wizarding families around. It’s a shame.”

She lets out another scoff of disbelief, but the first few of Draco's words have something inside of her stirring. She refuses to address it and instead says, “So—and again, I’m pretending—you fancy me because of my family?”

He lets out a little sniff. “Not what I said.”

”What is it you’re trying to say, then?”

“Blimey, how long is it going to take you to realize that I actually bloody fancy you?”

Draco has dropped all pretense of nonchalant arrogance; he’s staring at her, obviously frustrated and a little annoyed. He stops leaning on his broom and lets it drop to the ground in favor of advancing towards her until he’s mere inches away from her face.

”I fancy you,” he repeats, and it’s funny, how he says it, because declarations of love are supposed to be sweet and gentle—not scathing and angry. He’s scowling down at her, lip curling, brows drawn in together in the middle in a tight frown. “I’ve decided that I don’t care who you hang around anymore because I fancy you. Do you get it now?”

[Y/N] swallows, staring at him, momentarily frozen. Malfoy doesn’t seem as though he’s joking—and now she doesn’t know what to say. She’s never been this close to him before—close enough to see herself in the reflection of his eyes, which are a striking grey and remind her of thunderstorms brewing behind dark clouds—

She takes in a deep breath and swivels around, turning away from him. “Stop sending children to be my servants,” she says, and starts to walk away—until Malfoy grabs her wrist and forces her to look at him again.

For a moment the look in his eyes convinces [Y/N] that he’s about to apologize, but then his lips are splitting into a wide grin again and he says, “What if I bribe a seventh year into doing your homework for you?”

Another scoff. She tears her wrist away from his grip and stalks off, in complete and utter disbelief.

”Or a house-elf to bring you food?” he calls after her. “Someone to do your hair for you in the morning? Or someone to yell at me for you?”

She halts at the last one, and for some odd, unknown reason, she feels like smiling. But she doesn’t, because that will open a door into something she isn’t sure she wants to explore. So she turns around, suppressing that mysterious little smile, already twenty feet away from Malfoy as she says, loudly, “I like doing that last one myself, thanks.”

From this distance, she thinks Malfoy might be smiling. But she doesn’t stay long enough to find out.

click here to read pt. 2!

[clairecrive]

hello!! can you maybe write a nikolai x reader (she’s a heartrender) and they’ve been best friends since childhood and finally got together during the war, and he proposes to her once he becomes king? And she’s scared to say yes because the country might not want a Grisha queen but she eventually says yes?

Love Story

a/n: I missed my boy and so here's a fluffy piece for him. Thanks for requesting anon, hope you like this! x

Warning: none, pure fluff

Word count: 2.1K

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @randomoutsiders, @agentsofsheilds, @for-bebbanburg, @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc

(if you want to, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

It was late when Nikolai walked into his room. It always was. He was the first one to get up and the last one to go to bed, assuring that everything was going as it was supposed to.

Such was the life of a king.

Well, Nikolai wasn't king yet. But with his father's illness, it won't be long 'till he was.

He had been dreaming about this all his life. Hell, this was everything he had trained to be. Ignored every rumours and gossip and slander, focused only on one thing: becoming the man that Ravka needed.

And now the moment had finally come.

Nikolai could barely believe it. Yes, he was ambitious and skilled. He knew that he was the right person for this job. Either way, he was nervous.

Whenever he pictured this moment as a young boy, he had always thought that it'd be the end. The coronation being the cusp of his personal fulfilment.

But things had changed.

Now his coronation didn't hold any finality to it. It felt like the beginning of something new if anything. Something that Nikolai had been extensively planning for and was extremely excited for. But since it was something new, something that had never been done before, the uncertainty of how it could go made him a bit nervous.

Because now he wasn't alone.

A fierce heartrender had become his partner, his confidante, his better half.

Trying to be as silent as possible, Nikolai quickly undressed before joining you to bed. It was routine for you. Nikolai would come home late, you'd be deep in slumber by then, but he would always hold you close to him and kiss your neck to warn you of his presence. That would usually wake you but you'd never get angry. Actually, you were the one that told him to let you know when he got back. If only to make sure that he was okay.

"All good love, go to sleep." He'd whisper then in your ear. You wouldn't move, only wiggle close to him and pull his arm over your body so that you could hold his hand.

To be fair, you had always been a constant in Nikolai's life. You had met when you were both children. He was known for being restless, always escaping his nanny's hold to go on "adventures" as he'd call them. They'd usually entail climbing over trees or exploring paths in the forest that he had never seen.

One day, during one of his quest, he had put into his head that he needed to climb the biggest tree he could find. It was easy enough to spot his challenge but doing it was another thing.

He had been able to climb a few feet, his short stature and slender limbs aiding him in his endeavour. Looking down to assess his progress, he was confident he could really make it. Overconfident really. Because too busy loading over his abilities, he didn't notice that his foot was not hovering over a branch.

So when he went to confidently put all of his weight on it and it was met with nothing, he lost his balance. He tried to grip with all his might to the branches he was holding in his hands but he wasn't strong enough. And so, he fell.

Thankfully, he hadn't climbed high enough for the fall to be fatal. But it was enough to severely injure him.

At first, the impact of the ground left him out of breath. His head hurt too. It was only when he tried to stand that he noticed that his leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

There wasn't any blood but the sight was enough to send baby Nikolai in a panic. His breath turned hollow and frantic and now that he was aware of the injury, pain shot through his leg making him sob.

It was for the noise he made that you had been able to find him.

You were also wandering around the forest but for less nefarious intent though. You had a book under your arm and you were looking for a quiet spot to read. Needless to say, as soon as you heard his wails of agony, the book fell discarded on the ground as you run toward the noise.

When you reached him you tried your best to get him to calm down. He was hyperventilating by then. You weren't that far in your training to be able to slow his heartbeat or put him to sleep. But you were skilled enough to soothe him with your touch.

That and Nikolai was too caught up in looking at you, this stranger who was trying to help him.

While you couldn't actually heal him, you kept him company until someone eventually found you.

That was how your friendship had begun until it had bloomed into something more as you grew up.

Unbeknown to you, your relationship was about to reach another mark. Holding you close to him, Nikolai willed himself to put his plan in action tomorrow.

As his coronation grew closer, he grew more and more restless. He needed to do this as soon as possible.

The next day went by as usual. When you woke up Nikolai wasn't next to you but you found a trial with your breakfast and a handwritten note on it.

It read:

"An hour before the sun sets, meet me when it all started."

While it was unusual for Nikolai to leave you little notes in his stead, the mysteriousness of it made you antsy. What could he possibly be up to?

Your day went by, as usual, a skip in you feet as you were excited about the date.

Like he had asked you, you made sure to reach that tree in the forest exactly when he asked you to.

Nikolai was already there, pacing at the foot of the tree until he noticed you standing there.

"What is going on?" Before seeing him, you hadn't thought that this meeting could be about bad news. But Nikolai looked nervous, almost scared and that didn't happen often.

"Hello, love." He greeted you walking towards you. Holding your hands in his, he raised one to his lips to leave a small kiss.

"Such a gentleman," you cooed at his gesture, his lips curling in a small smirk as a result, "what did you do?" Raising one of your eyebrows, you asked knowing that when Nikolai was so sweet it was only for two reasons: he wanted to make it up to you or he wanted to have sex. Since doing it in public places had never been appealing to him, you thought it more likely that it was the first.

"Can't a man do something nice for his better half?" He scoffed in fake hurt. You pointedly stared at him but you were smiling.

"I wanted to something nice for you," he said shyly? while shrugging your shoulders not meeting your eyes. Without waiting for a reply, he pulled you closer to the tree where you now noticed there was a white sheet laid with rose petals and candles all over it.

"Things are about to change," he said referring to his impending coronation as you reached the sheet, "and you know what I realized?"

You shook your head in reply, too enchanted by the man in front of you and the scenery around you to speak. Nikolai smiled at you, gently reaching to your face to remove a piece of hair by tucking in behind your ear. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his smile widening even more when you leaned into his touch.

"I've realized that no matter what happened in my life, where I am in the world or what name people call me, you're always the constant."

"And I don't want that to change. Ever." His eyes flicker between yours, shining with anticipation. But why? Surely he must know that you never intend to leave him.

"That it's never going to change, sasha. I'm here to stay." You assured him, your hand reaching to grab his.

His eyes flashed again, regaining their usual confident glow. He looked reassured.

"Well, you know me, my dear. Always worrying so, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to make it official." He joked, his hands leaving your face as he kneeled.

Kneeled? He couldn't possibly...

Your breath hitched at his position. He got a little box out of his pocket before reaching for your hand again.

"Y/n, my heart, my love, the apple of my eye, you beautiful woman," he started cheekily knowing very well how calling these things would make you blush, "We were both young when I first saw you. Me making a fool out of myself by doing something stupid as per usual and you coming to save my ass. Little did I know though that that stupid adventure would give me more than a broken leg." Both of you smiled at the memory.

"if I knew that breaking a leg would be what made me meet you, I would have done sooner. And don't give me that look," he said once you glared at him, "what's a broken leg in the face of true love?" He added making you roll your eyes. Always smooth with his words. Damn him.

"Because that's what we have, a love story. And it may not be conventional with me dragging you all over the world doing reckless things, assuming different identities and everything but it's our love story. And it's beautiful, I wouldn't change it for the world. So baby, please, just say yes and make me the luckiest bastard in the world."

His words, his hopeful smile and shining eyes were too much for you to contain your tears. They were happy tears, you both knew that. There was no way you could say no to him. But at the same time, you were a bit hesitant. Nikolai painted a wonderful picture but you knew that the reality was a bit harsher.

Kneeling as well, you also gripped his hands.

"You're my whole heart, sasha, I hope you know it." You started, your voice wavering a bit. Nikolai's face fell for a moment sensing that there was a "but" coming. But it only lasted so long before his face morphed into that stubborn expression he'd always have whenever he'd set on getting something.

"I'd be a fool to say no to you, Nikolai," you added hastily hoping to rectify your mistake. "But I can't help but worry."

"You're going to be king soon and I'm not sure how much having a Grisha consort will help you."

Where his lips were pursed in confusion now they were set in a line. Knowing what was troubling you relieved him. That was easily fixed.

"So what, my love? I'll be a king and you'll be the queen. You've fought for this country just as much as I have. Besides, you're a fool if you think that I'm going to leave you just because I'll be addressed by a different title."

The hold on your hands felt reassuring, the sheer determination and honesty in his eyes even more. You knew Nikolai and you knew that he was ambitious as well as stubborn. And loyal. Your heart warmed at his words that you knew were true. He was not going to let you go.

Suddenly, the realisation of your feelings for him and his feelings for you overwhelmed you. A sob broke through your lips making worry return in Nikolai's eyes.

"Saints Nikolai, you have no fucking idea how grateful I am you fell down that tree that day." You confessed, eyes welling with tears.

"So am I, my love. My leg a bit less but..." you both chuckled.

Returning serious, Nikolai went to open the velvet box he was holding. The Lantsov's emerald. Your eyes widened when they fell on it. You had known about it but you had never seen it before.

"Nikolai-" you whispered in astonishment.

"I know it's not exactly your style but this was fit for a queen. My mother gave it to me and I want you to have it." He said sensing your hesitancy.

"Can I also have a kiss?" You asked cheekily batting your eyelids. Nikolai laughed at your antics. He quickly slipped the ring around your finger before cradling your face and pulling you close.

"You don't have to ask twice." And with that, his lips crashed on yours. He kissed you slowly at first, just your lips touching. But as soon as the realisation of what had happened dawned on him, the kiss grew frantic. His hands were in your hairs as yours were wrapped around the collar of his coat, pulling him impossibly close to you.

Life with Nikolai wasn't easy but his love was the most real thing you had ever felt. Nothing in the world meant more to you than he did. Ring or not.

[ray-ray-writings]

No Worries-Technoblade

#256 and 257 from this prompt list. Check out my masterlist here!

This is a Techno x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! I hope you enjoy!

Y/N’s been missing for almost a week and the one person that should be worried about them most isn’t worried at all, which upsets some people. 

Third Person POV

Everyone was freaking out. Y/N had been missing for a few days and no one knew where they were, not even their boyfriend Techno. Niki had been the first one to notice. Usually Y/N shows up Saturday mornings to help prep the bakery as Saturday was usually her busiest day. But when they didn’t show, Niki went to their house to try and find them. No one was home. There was no note, no warning, no anything. They had just disappeared. Niki told a few people and all weren’t too worried at first. The excuse that maybe they had gone on a short adventure and forgot to tell anyone. Techno wasn’t too worried and that seemed to calm people’s nerves. 

So everyone went on with their day. Day turned into night and then night back into day and they still were nowhere to be found. Once again, a little bit of panic seemed to rise through the people of the server. Their worries were once more brought to Techno who once again waved them off. Y/N was a big kid and they could take care of themselves if push really came to shove. Tensions settled once more. 

This continued for three more days. Everyone worrying and Techno down playing their worries. His seemingly disintrence in the subject sparked rumors to fly throughout L’Manberg. Maybe Techno never really cared about Y/N. Maybe he hired some hitman to take them away in the middle of the night. Maybe Techno disposed of them himself. They were ridiculous, but when something doesn’t make sense, people tend to jump to conclusions. 

Almost a week had passed since anyone had seen or heard from Y/N. Y/N was well loved on the server and it hurt everyone that they had gone so long without seeing their friend. A small group of people worked up the nerve to go to Techno’s house and demand answers. 

“Techno!” Tubbo shouted as he pounded on the pink haired man’s front door, “Open up! We need to talk to you!” Confused at the sudden appearance of the young President, Techno swung open his front door to find a small angry mob on his front porch. The mob consisted of Niki, Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo, and Ghostbur. All, but Ghostbur, had angry looks on their face while Ghostbur didn’t seem to know what was going on. 

“Hello Techno!” Ghostbur greeted the Blood God with a big grin and wave. “Hello Ghostbur. And everyone else. To what do I owe the pleasure,” He questioned the mob with a raised eyebrow. “Where is Y/N?” Tommy demanded. Techno rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “I told you. I don’t know. They must be out adventuring. They’ll be back any day now. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Techno made an attempt to shut the door, but someone’s hand stopped it. Quackity stood there, fire in his eyes, hand pressing the door open. “They’ve been missing since Friday and you’re not worried?” He questioned harshly. Techno let out a small chuckle at the thought of being worried about Y/N. “They’re missing. Not dead. If they were dead, I would have seen it by now. We all would have seen it by now” Techno announced, motioning to his right arm. He was right. If Y/N had died, they all would have been notified. 

“You’re really not worried about your partner?” Fundy prodded, stepping up so that he was next to Quackity. Techno chuckled once more, shaking his head at the question, “It is obvious you don’t know Y/N as much as you think you do.” Everyone made some sort of noise of protest. All of them would like to think that you’re one of their closest friends! Of course they know you well! Don’t they? 

Tubbo opened his mouth to ask what Techno meant by that, but was cut off by someone behind him. “What are you guys talking about?” Everyone in the group whipped around at the sound of that familiar voice. 

*POV Switch*

Y/N’s POV

A smile fell onto my face as I saw the warm glow of my boyfriend’s house in the distance. I had gone on what I thought would be a short journey to a not so nearby village to get a book I needed for my enchantments. On my way there, I ran into a pillager captain. Not thinking anything of it, I killed it and went on my way. Only I forgot about a small thing that happens when you kill a captain. You get a bad omen. 

So there I was, waltzing into the village in search of a librarian to trade with, when boom! A raid starts. Well I couldn’t just trigger the raid and then leave, that would be so wrong. I helped the Iron Golem defend the village. It took a few days because it was 2 v all of them. Nevertheless, we won. I got quite a bit of loot from the dead bodies of the pillagers, including two totems of undying. After all was said and done, I began to do what I went there for. The Villagers were kind enough to give me a discount on all of my tradings for protecting them, even though I was the one that made it so they needed protecting. I stayed for a few extra days to make sure that everyone was okay and healthy. Once I was sure, I set off back toward home with my riches. 

As I grew closer, I was greeted with the sight of many of my friends standing on Techno’s front porch. It caused me to grin. I really did miss my friends while I was gone. My slow pace turned into a jog as I grew nearer and nearer. As I got closer I began to hear part of their conversation. “-Would have seen it by now…” “You’re really not worried about your partner?” I heard Fundy question. I came to a stop behind the group with a furrowed brow. “It is obvious you don’t know Y/N as much as you think you do.” Techno responded. “What are you guys talking about?” I questioned, extremely confused as to what I had just stumbled upon. 

In sync, all heads whipped toward me. “Y/N!” They all cried. I brought my hand up and gave them a small wave, “Hell-OH!” I let out as the weight of seven bodies hit me. Everyone began speaking at once causing all meaning to be lost in the noise. I was able to catch a few words such as ‘missing’ and ‘worried’ but other than that, I was lost. 

“GUYS!” I finally shouted, breaking free from their clutches, “One at a time! What’s going on?” I questioned the group. The seven exchanged glances before Niki stepped close to me, “You were missing and nobody knew where you went and so we were worried.” Niki murmured, looking down to the ground. My heart melted at the words, “Oh Niki,” I murmured back, reaching forward and wrapping the girl in a tight hug. “I’m okay! I just had to go to the village.” I let go of the girl and gave the rest of the group hugs as well before making my way to my boyfriend. I greeted him with a big grin, which he returned, before placing a sweet kiss to his lips. After we broke apart, I turned back to the group as Techno wrapped his arm around my waist. 

“So you said you had to go to the village. Why did it take you so long to come home?” Tubbo asked shyly. I let out a laugh as I thought about what had happened. “Oh well, it was supposed to be a short journey. And then I accidentally triggered a raid, so I had to fight that,” I stated casually, shrugging my shoulders. The group stared at me in shock. “You fought a raid? All by yourself?” Ranboo questioned a little star struck. “What? Like it’s hard?” The group was silent, just staring at me. “Did you guys not know that Techno personally trained me? Like All my PVP I’ve learned from him. I’ve got to say I’ve gotten pretty good!” I boasted proudly. Techno chuckled beside me, squeezing my hip and kissing the side of my head. “You sure have.” 

“So that’s why you weren’t worried about them! You knew they could take care of themselves.” Techno rolled his eyes at Tommy’s statement. “Of course I knew they could. I was a little worried, but I knew they could handle themselves.” Techno’s confidence in me made me feel warm inside. “Well we’ll let you get settled and rest. I’m sure you’re tired from your traveling.” Niki said, reaching forward and tugging on everyone’s shirts getting them to slowly shuffle away. “Come by tomorrow, yeah? We all missed you a lot.” Niki requested with a smile. I returned the girl’s smile and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll definitely be by tomorrow to see everyone.” Niki gave me one final smile before ushering everyone away from Techno’s house. 

Once everyone left our eyesight, Techno ushered me back inside his house. “Are you alright? Have any injuries you need me to look at?” He rushed, sitting me down on the living room couch. I laughed at his concern but shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. I did take a few hits, but the villagers took good care of me,” I answered, grinning at him. Techno returned my grin before sitting next to me, reaching down and holding my hand. “I really missed you love,” Techno hummed, pressing his lips against my forehead. I let out a sigh of content, my muscles relaxing at his touch. “I missed you too lover.” 

The two of us sat there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Being away from my boyfriend from so long had taken a harder toll on me than the literal battle I fought just a few days prior. I really had missed my boyfriend. I let out a sigh as my eyes closed in exhaustion, “You ready to go to bed love?” Techno questioned softly. I tiredly nodded at his words, opening my eyes slightly to look at him, “Carry?” I pondered gently. Techno chuckled but nodded. He stood up and delicately picked me up, wrapping his arms around the middle of my back and pressing me tightly to him. Techno carefully walked down the hall and laid me down in his bed, quickly crawling into bed next to me. 

Techno was quick to wrap himself around me and cuddle me tightly, causing me to sigh in content once more. “Thank you for believing in me” I whispered to my boyfriend. Techno smiled and kissed the bridge of my nose, “Of course love. You’re my little badass. I’ll always believe in you.” He murmured. I couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “I’m a badass,” I responded sleepily. Techno chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Yes, you are love.” I sleepily smiled at his words, and buried myself into his chest, closing my eyes to fall asleep. I let out a yawn as the warmth of my boyfriend began to spread through my body.  “I love you” I sleepily murmured out to my boyfriend. I felt Techno’s lips press against the top of my head before he also murmured, “I love you too”. And then I fell asleep, safe and content in my boyfriend’s arms, not a single worry in my head. 

Oh god that ending sucked, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Be sure to leave a like if you did!!

[mikkomacko]

Ok thanks. What do you think about Stucky comforting reader for some reason?

A/n: Hiii. I hope this is ok! My first time writing stucky x reader but it was cool. I might just have to do an expanded Stucky fic 👀

~

It's well known throughout the Avengers that y/n is the kryptonite to every super soldier. At least she is to the two super soldiers they know, because only she can turn Steve and Bucky into overbearing boyfriends.

"Sam, do you have eyes on y/n and Nat?"

Steve grunts, kicking his attacker square in the chest and sending the man to the pavement. Bucky's follows closely behind, the former soldier slamming his own attacker into the ground so hard it cracks under his spine. Both lie there in a heap of sweat and blood.

"Sam?" Bucky asks angrily when they receive no response. Behind them, Wands and Tony shift through the rubble and debris of the two buildings that had been attacked, blown to pieces by the terrorist group in front of them. With civilian casualties high, y/n and Nat had taken up the job of evacuating everyone within the threatened area. But it's been too long since he's heard anything from the two through their comms.

"I've got sights on Nat but y/n is no where to be seen."

Another fly over from Sam, this time closer to the ground but still nothing certain on the missing Avenger. "I've got heat signatures in a damaged office building over here but I can't tell if it's her or not."

Steve and Bucky share a look, concerned for their girl as always, and begin heading over to the building.

"Romanoff you better fucking answer!" Bucky spits into his comms, boots crunching in the rubble under his feet.

A static breaks through, followed by the breathless voice of Natasha. "You're not the only one fighting terrorists Barnes," she bites back. "I cleared the west blocks, lost y/n when she went east. I'm guessing her comms are down."

"Was she evacuating the buildings?" Steve asks, approaching the block y/n is supposedly on.

"Think so. The one closest to you guys. She was worried it'd come down from the blast."

Steve and Bucky pick up the pace, relief flooding through them when a group of civilians rushes out of the building y/n was clearing.

"Is anyone still inside?" Steve asks them, while Bucky cranes his head up to look through the shattered windows. Before any of the survivors can answer, the building behind to rumble, the boom of an explosion going off cutting off whatever answer was being given.

Immediately shielding the civilians, Steve looks up in horror just in time to see the building split into two crumpled pieces, the top half collapsing into the building next to it.

~

There's a ringing in her ears, throbbing in her head and the taste of iron floods her mouth. Groaning, she lifts herself up enough to find that she's braced against a column, smoke and dust clouding her vision but she knows that something is off. The world around her has tilted, leaving the walls as the ground beneath her feet.

An explosion, she concludes, racking her brain for what she'd been doing when the bomb went off. A civilian, she remembers, the last one on the top floor, a young intern frozen in fear as battle rang out around him. Forgetting that she lost her comms in a fight earlier, she reaches for ear to call for backup. Instead, she's met with slick, warm blood and a tender skull.

Grey, the boy's name had been Grey. He'd told her during her attempt to guide him out from under his desk.

"I promise I can get you outta here Grey." She had sworn, and she intends to fulfill that. Unsteadily, she rides to her feet, balancing herself on the rubble around her.

"Grey?" She calls out, voice rough. "Grey if you're here I need a noise, a movement, something!"

She strains her eyes, searching through the mess of grey and charred black. Finally, a flash of ash ridden green, the color he'd been wearing. She watches as he rises to his knees, a gash on his forehead and blood dripping from his ears too.

Quick but careful, she makes her way through destroyed desks and crumpled walls until she's close enough to see how utterly screwed Grey is. A window. He's balanced on a cracked window, one surrounding by other empty window panes.

The boy trembles, helpless as his terrified eyes find hers. She burries her panic, doing her best to appear calm and confident.

"It's ok," she comforts, "I just need you stay very still ok? Let me come to you."

Grey nods, lip wavering in fear. Y/n takes a deep breath, hesitantly stepping onto the panel between two broken windows. When it holds her weight easily, she continues.

"Its breaking," Grey says weakly, peering down the splintering window at the street below them. Y/n doesn't get a good look, but she thinks she can make out two familiar men below. Steve and Bucky. Relief floods through her. They'll send Sam, she just needs to get Grey off that window.

"Don't look down," she instructs, "look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

He complies, tear filled eyes meeting hers again. It's a slow progress, checking the beams to find which ones she can walk on. She does her best to distract Grey, telling him of Sam and the boys below, how she knows they'll be up soon to help. Until then, he's gotta trust her.

"I do," he swears, "I trust you."

And there's relief when she gets a window away from him, prepared to quickly tug him to safety after she steadies her feet. But then the ripped half of the building is quivering, dropping a few feet down and the window is breaking before she gets enough time to grab him.

Panicked, she throws herself out of the window after him, left hand gripping the window pane while the right locks around his wrist. The pull in her shoulder is almost paralyzing as his weight comes to an abrupt stop. She's fairly certain it's dislocated or at the least something's torn, but the adrenaline in her veins keeps her grip strong.

"Y/n!"

Her feet dangle wildly, Grey squeezing her hand for dear life as he hangs 60 feet above ground. Steve and Bucky call out for her, something she doesn't quite pick up because she's too busy trying to calm Grey's hyperventilating body. He's wiggling, panicking, legs swinging in a frenzy like they're trying to find solid ground.

"Grey I need you to stop, if you keep moving I'll slip." As if proving her point, the sweat on her palm becomes slippery. He listens, for the most part, but he can't help the way his body quivers and shakes with cries.

"Sam's grounded!" Steve shouts from below, a panic in his voice she's not used to. "Hang on sweetheart, Stark is coming!"

She doesn't answer, can't answer because her muscles and tendons are screaming and burning, begging her to let go, and the fingers in Grey's hold have gone numb. A few more seconds, painfully long seconds, and the sound of the Iron Man suit floods her ears. Another brief moment of relief, one that also doesn't last because Grey has lost his grip and before she can even think of instructing to him to just hold on for one more second, she loses her grip on the boy and his scream overpowers Tony's thrusters as he falls to the pavement below.

~

Tony got her down safely. Caught her mid fall after she'd jumped after Grey in a weak attempt to save him. By the time her feet touch the ground, she's bolting, heading for the backside of the building where the body of the boy sits. The weak swing of her shoulder and the limp in her right leg slows her down, enough for Bucky to easily catch up to her and halt her. She fights his hold, desperate as he shushes and calms her.

Steve follows closely behind, assisting Bucky in taking care of their girl. Somehow, through a haze they get her to the Quinjet, both working on cleaning up her wounds during the painfully silent flight home. Y/n remains dazed and quiet as they take her to her bedroom, getting her in the shower, bandaged and dressed. Bucky is brushing out her wet hair on the edge of the bed while Steve fluffs the pillows when she finally speaks.

"I had him," she says, voice wavering. "I just needed a few more seconds. If I had held on-"

"Don't do that doll," Bucky interrupts sternly, pulling her into his lap. "don't think about the what ifs, you saved so many lives today. You did what you were supposed to."

She doesn't say anything but they know her well enough to know that she still doesn't believe them. Steve moves to sit next to them, wrapping one arm around her and one around Bucky.

"This job doesn't come without casualties sweetheart, we all know that. You stopped as many as you could and we're so proud of you for that."

His words bring her to tears, painful, heart cutting sobs that force both super soldiers to bite back their own tears. They hold her even tighter, soothing her with kisses and promises of making it better, of assuring her that it won't always hurt.

And once she's all cried out, puffy eyes and bones like cooked noodles, they tuck her into the middle of the bed, sandwiching her between their strong, warm bodies. Somewhere safe and comforting, where she can rest knowing they've got her and they won't be letting go anytime soon.