#that i got for june and bash :\

[queen-scribbles]

Oh, COME ON, is one of the Vexx romance scenes bugged again?!

[angelsforthenight]

BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader.

a catholic boarding school AU pt 1 🍓

pt 2 here!

you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin?

content: heavy religious talk, catholic, holy! reader, rebel!ellie, quiet!reader, player!ellie, ellie has piercings, ‘lil raunchy but no smut (yet heheh), v brief mention of drugs, v brief mention of porn.

a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i did back in the summer! i had accidentally (and stupidly) deleted my account :,) let’s pray people see this.

having lived in a catholic boarding school for half of your life, it’s only natural you were heavily religious. the fear of god plagued you like a disease. you were nailed on following the Word, and earning a seat in heaven — not it’s roaring, fiery counterpart.

you were a good girl: always following the rules the sisters bestowed upon you. always deemed as pure, and untainted. you prayed every night without fail: knelt beside your bed, elbows against the mattress, hands clasped together.

you had always tried your hardest to stray away from sin. however, there’d be temptations, of course. for instance, that one time you caught a bunch of girls in your dorm giggling and squealing at a porno-magazine they had randomly found somewhere. you had accidentally caught a very brief glimpse at a woman flaunting her tits and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made you feel something. a needy little throb between your thighs. that night, consumed with guilt, you had prayed so hard that your head hurt.

oh, and if we’re talking about temptations? ELLIE WILLIAMS had to be the hardest one yet.

take the word sinful and ellie would come to mind. she was someone you had always tried your best to avoid. rebellious, brash and cocky. it was said she was forced here as punishment from her parents. she had always been hard to discipline: had piercings (spider bites and one on her right brow), always snuck out and was notorious for smuggling in drugs.

even though ellie was a pain, there was no way the nuns could expel her since her parents sponsored the school a generous amount. they had to resort to seeing ellie as someone they could “save.”

whenever she roamed the hallways, every girl would scramble to move out of her way. she was incredibly intimidating and got into fights whenever she wanted to — both with students AND the sisters. of course you wouldn’t want to mess with her.

there were also numerous rumours circling around about her. too many to count, but one stuck with you the most: that she gets it on with girls. hearing from your gossip-gripped friends that ellie had fucked a handful of girls in your school had surprised you. you were brutally naive, so preoccupied with seeming good in the eyes of the Lord that you weren’t aware that something like that could happen. this had only made you want to stay away from ellie even more.

you were quiet, so timid and meek that you believed yourself lucky to actually have friends. your quietness allowed ellie not to notice you, not even be aware of your existence despite you two being in a lot of the same classes. you didn’t mind — in fact, you were glad. relieved, even.

that is, until the school’s annual sports day.

it was a scorching hot day in the middle of june and many of the girls were excited. not particularly because of the sports but because every time, the neighbouring all boys school would join yours. a classic boys versus girls. you didn’t really care whether the boys were here or not, as opposed to your friends who were all bashful and red-faced. you found it understandable considering they’re sheltered away from them most of the time. bless them.

you and your friends were leaning against the fence of the tennis court. you were so hot that your t-shirt stuck to the small of your back, little baby hairs glued to your forehead. bored from all the boy-talk, your eyes decided to drift to a certain auburn-haired girl: manspreading on the bench right across from you. you wondered how a woman could sit so unladylike.

ellie was out of breath, probably from doing a running activity. there was visible sweat gleaming on the corner of her forehead and her cheeks were pink. god knows why, but you allowed yourself to prolong your stare. you watched as ellie grabbed her water bottle, gulping down desperate sips; some of the water spilling and dripping down her slender neck. you watched as the skin on her neck bobbed as she sipped, heard as she panted breathlessly like a dog. you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to prickle, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. when her pale green eyes caught yours, you immediately looked away, turning your attention back to your friends. that was the first time you two had ever made eye contact.

a moment later, it was your group’s turn to play tennis. ellie remained perched on the bench, and as you waited in the queue to have a go on batting the ball, you happened to be quite near her. you tried your very best to play it cool. ellie paid no attention, spaced-out and obviously too lazy to participate in the activities.

there were also boys in the queue, right behind you, which had got your girls in a frenzy. one of your friends decided to push you against them. “oops” she would say before purposely bumping you towards them again and again. you were awkward and uncomfortable, but you had played it off and giggled, acting as if it was funny. at a point, she accidentally pushed you too hard which made you lose your balance; stumbling on your heel and falling backwards. right onto ellie’s lap. yep! her lap.

“woah?” ellie said, caught off guard. “oh shit. go. go!” your so-called friends murmured as they scrambled off, leaving you completely and utterly humiliated. you immediately bolted off her lap as you turned around to look at her.

“i’m really sorry. that was— i mean, my f-friends were…” you began to ramble, feeling your whole body turn hot. ellie’s lips cracked up into an amused grin.

“it’s chill. not very often you get a cute girl sitting on your lap for less than a second.” she chuckled. you blushed immensely, before rapidly nodding and speeding away.

if only your little innocent self knew how quick things would change…

a/n: hooked? read pt 2 here!

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2

pt. 1 pt. 3

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)

[gucciwins]

don't know where we're going

Harry invites Y/N on tour as his opening artist...he wasn't expecting to fall in love

Word count: 26,709

A/N: hola mis amores 💜 here is this new story for you. it might have been a long time but I promise I will always come back. come talk to me about the new story

Warnings: smut (female pleasure)

+

Love on Tour had come to an end. The final show was here tonight in Italy, and Y/N was excited. Her band had shared they couldn’t sleep or eat from their nerves, but Y/N felt at ease. She had always felt at home on stage. Tonight would be no different. 

When Y/N’s mother realized her daughter loved to sing, she put on even more musicals for her to watch and sing along to. Y/N’s mother, Reina, never got tired of her daughter’s voice, and with her encouragement, Y/N began to play in bars, anywhere that would give her the time and space. A producer one day approached her after doing two songs in a coffee shop, telling her she had a chance to make it. He handed her a card and made her promise she’d call. She almost didn’t. 

Her mother gave her the courage to call, and her life changed. They got her time in the studio, where she got to present her ideas and songs. The team supported her, and from then on, Y/N Y/LN became a person to be on the lookout for. She had writing sessions with Julia Michaels that allowed her to learn that not only did she have the liberty to write everything she felt but that with experience comes inspiration. As she began to record, she knew she had to think about the future of a tour. Not soon after, she met her guitarist Felix at a sports bar, where they bonded over their mutual love for Formula One. Felix introduced her to June, who became her drummer, and their bassist is Quinn, June’s brother. 

The venues Y/N had booked out always surprised her because, despite its small capacity, every show was always sold out. Her first single blew through the charts; it got her name out there. Her first tour around the UK was a success and allowed her to begin playing festivals. Y/N was happy with how her life turned out and had no idea it could improve.

Y/N loved her job. She loved being on stage and connecting with fans. She loved touring with her favorite people. She lived a comfortable life doing what she loved. Y/N had a large fanbase, not popstar sensation fame, but it’s not what she was searching for. It was why she had to think about her answer when she found out the biggest pop star of her generation wanted her to open up for his final leg in Europe. It didn’t make sense because Y/N clearly knew about Harry Styles. She didn’t know he knew about her.

He’s a big fan.

Zane Lowe played him a song, and he was hooked.

Harry saw you play one night and has followed you ever since. 

The exposure would be good for you. 

Harry would like to meet with you before you make a choice.

The choice was clear for everyone but Y/N. She had never met the man, and while the pay would be incredible, she wasn’t willing to go on tour with someone she did not get on with. The meeting with Harry turns out to be a success. He comes in full of smiles, a bit bashful when his manager points out how big a fan he is. Harry doesn’t deny it; it makes her trust him because he’s genuinely a fan of her music, and she admires that. Y/N returns the compliment, stating that she learned to play “Fine Line” on the piano because it was her favorite. Her manager Zahra shared that she cried when she first heard it because she wished she had written the song. Harry blushed at the compliment while Y/N tried to brush past it. Thankfully, Harry was polite and thanked her. While everyone got to work on paperwork, it gave Y/N a moment to speak with Harry alone. Y/N started the conversation because Harry sat there quietly, simply enjoying observing her. 

“Thank you for the opportunity. My band and I are excited,” she expressed. 

Harry grins, “thank you for agreeing.” 

“I hear stadiums are what you’ll likely be sticking to.”

“Scared,” he teased. 

Y/N shrugs, “I never imagined singing in front of that capacity if I’m honest. I think it’s easier because no one will be there for me.” 

“I will be. Will watch every night,” he promises. 

Y/N waves him off, “wasn’t fishing for a compliment.”

“Didn’t think you were. I hope we share the stage one day, maybe sing a song together.”

“If we make it to the end of this, you can come out during my set,” she teases.

“It would be my honor.” 

That was the start of Harry and Y/N’s friendship.

+

Y/N loved playing dress up. On stage, she got to wear whatever she wanted. It’s a big reason she enjoyed seeing what Harry would pick each night. Y/N loved spinning, and the perfect accessory to do so was a skirt, specifically a mini skirt. She remembers thrifting in a little shop in Dublin, where she found the perfect pink mini, and from there, it became part of who she was. From baby tees to oversized cargo pants to skirts, the one constant was the platforms that always gave her that extra height. 

Y/N knew she had to honor her mother each night she was on stage, and because the earliest memory Y/N has is sitting in front of the mirror as her mother tied ribbons and bows in her hair, she made it a tradition to keep them in. Y/N swore she had one that fit all of her outfits, and if it didn’t, she didn’t mind getting her scissors and cutting up a bit of clothing. 

She is now a few shows in and is having the time of her life. Y/N gets to play her music every night and enjoys seeing Harry perform. Then, she ends each night by discussing her favorite parts with Harry. Y/N doesn’t remember how it happened, but Y/N doesn’t go to sleep unless she has spoken to Harry; by now, it’s part of her routine. The friendship she is building with him makes her feel at ease on stage each night. One night, they talked about their inspiration, and Y/N told him she was inspired by all around her. From her friends to movies to even books she has read. She wrote “Another Love” based on Gus and January, a couple from a book she read. It’s easy to be inspired because she lets every bit of emotion change her.

“Your music is sad,” Harry tells her one night.

Y/N frowns, “excuse me.” 

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I’m leaving,” she goes to stand up, but he stops her by holding onto her wrist. 

“Hear me out,” he pleads. She settles deeper into her seat. “I enjoy it. I think it’s the best music I have ever heard, and it’s so sad because it’s your real emotions and reactions. You’re putting your heart out there; sometimes the sadness wins out.” 

Y/N knows he’s right, but that doesn’t mean she has to say that. “Well, you’re always horny.” 

Harry burst out laughing, “fair.” 

“I’d never sing about watermelons with you,” she fakes disgust. 

Harry’s interest has now peaked. “What would you sing?” 

“Fine line, but not with you. I’d add it to my setlist if I was on tour now.” 

Harry didn’t know she really loved a song like that. “That’s–wow. Thank you.” 

“Realistically, I’d do Daylight. She's a bop.” 

Y/N laughs when she sees Harry nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he promises.

At the following show, Y/N kept thinking back to what Harry said about how her music carries a sadness. She doesn’t mean to, but it’s the type of melodies that soothe her. It’s clear from the fanbase she has created that her fans also like it. 

“Mr. Styles says I have sad music as if he didn’t write Matilda,” she teases. “Kidding, we all know Cherry is his saddest song. While some songs are sad, you can still dance to them, so this is “Sorry.” Please sing if you know it. If not, that’s okay too.” 

Harry greets her when she walks off stage. “Did you enjoy that, boss man?” Y/N’s running on a high; all she wants to do is spend time with Harry, but he has to get ready. 

“You’re my favorite part of every show,” he tells her genuinely. 

Y/N feels her face heat up, but she knows where this could head and decides to stay clear. She pats his shoulder and walks away. “Good luck, Harry,” she calls out as she turns the corner, leaving Harry standing alone, wondering how he’d work up the courage to ask Y/N out. 

+

Another day, another show. Except today, Y/N saw a familiar face and had to bring it up. 

“I’ve seen you before. You look very pretty.” Y/N compliments the fan with a black baby tee with bedazzled cherries and glitter pants. “You’re coming to the shows because of me,” Y/N repeated, shocked. “But it’s the Harry Styles show!” Y/N leans closer, listening to the fan share that she’s their favorite artist. The fan had traveled from Iceland to be here tonight because it’s the only place she managed to get tickets. Then, she decided to try attending as many shows as possible before returning home. Y/N felt so much gratitude, making her want to hug this person. While Y/N couldn’t jump down, she thought of the next best thing. “Do you want to sing this one with me? Can we do that?” Y/N looks side-stage at her tour manager, and she’s shaking her head in disappointment, but no one is stopping her. “Come on up.” The fan is helped over the barricade and guided upstairs to meet her. Y/N hugs the fan tightly, thanking her for everything, and Y/N tells her she hopes to see her in the crowd again. “Everyone, this is Sasha! She’s part of the band tonight. Now, Sasha, do you know ‘The Band and I,’” Y/N checks. 

“Word for word,” Sasha assures her. 

“Wonderful, you’re all in for a treat. Hit it, Junie!” Y/N shouts. 

Walking off the stage that night, Y/N is flying on a high. She smiles with the band; she sees Harry leaning against a wall with a smirk. “Breaking all the rules, huh, almost gave Jeff a heart attack.” 

Y/N grimaces, “am I in trouble?” 

Harry rolls his eyes, “I enjoyed it, and I'm the boss. So no.”

She sighs in relief, “I-I just felt grateful. This is your tour,” she emphasizes. “And for the fan to enjoy my music and know the lyrics to a song I wrote, which I haven’t officially released yet, overwhelmed me. Playing in front of an audience has always been my dream, but having my lyrics sung back to me is not something I ever let myself imagine.” 

Harry smiles, and she knows he understands. He doesn’t have to say a word. His eyes say it all for her. Y/N is thankful she joined this tour, and while she admires Harry, she knows she can’t forget to keep her boundaries up because she knows they will only begin to fall with time.

+

It was early March when Harry changed their relationship. Y/N enjoyed time with her band, but sometimes she needed to be alone. She used the time to write or simply enjoy the silence, even for a few minutes. Harry offered her a private space where he kept his piano. He traveled everywhere with it, and while Y/N thought it was a hassle, she was grateful because it allowed her to play with melodies she had stuck in her head. 

Today was no different. She had spent an hour alone when Harry walked in on her, seemingly just as lost in his head. He was startled when he looked up and found her sitting in an old hoodie of her first merch ever created. 

“Cute,” he comments.

Y/N shrugs, “I know you want one.”

“Desperately.” 

She doesn’t know if he’s continuing the bit but decides she will have her mother bring one to her at Wembley for him. It would be her home show, so her mother would be in attendance. 

“Anything new?” He gestures to the piano and her open notebook. Y/N hands it to him, allowing him to have a look inside. There are more music notes than there are lyrics. She has the perfect melody, but words seem hard to find right now. “Care to play it for me?” 

Y/N loves that he always asks. They both know how private the writing process can be, but with Harry, it’s clear they have built a level of trust. Y/N starts slow on the keys before building up until, by the end reaches the slow start. Harry grins at her, and Y/N can see he likes it. She knows he plays the piano, but she’s never had the chance to watch him play; he’s more reserved compared to her. It’s not something she minds. It just means they both have boundaries they won’t cross and respects that. 

“It was beautiful,” he tells her after a few seconds. She thanks him softly, shutting her notebook and knows she has to head out to get ready. 

“Y/N, I-I really like having you on tour.” 

“Thank you for inviting me. It’s truly an amazing environment to work in. Even if you do need a few more ladies in your crew.”

Harry laughs but agrees. He knows she speaks from experience where most of his technicians are men. Y/N has a more diverse crew. It is an industry that works to break down women. It's nice to see how she always lifts everyone up. He didn’t realize how, over time, his feelings grew for Y/N. He went from seeing her every few days to speaking to her every night before bed. She brings him a comfort he did not know he was missing. Y/N had become the best part of his day, from watching her perform on stage to their nightly talks. He wanted to spend all his free time with her, so he chose to be honest with her about his feelings.

“Can I tell you something, Y/N?” Harry asked softly. 

Y/N turned to him, a gentle smile on her face that helped calm his nerves the tiniest bit. He was worried it would not go his way because there were times he gave her a compliment, and she always brushed it away. He always greeted her with a hug, but she always turned it into a one-second side hug. He didn’t know if that was because he made her nervous or she simply didn’t like hugs, although he’d seen her hug her bandmates. Heck, he’s seen them all squished on a couch together. 

Harry takes a deep breath; he wants to look away from her, her gaze making him nervous, but the comfort he finds in her gorgeous orbs allows him to push forward. “I-I like you, Y/N.” 

Y/N thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest. She did not expect a confession of this kind from Harry. It leaves her frozen for a second because while Y/N reciprocates those feelings, she’s not at liberty to act on them, not when working on the largest tour of her life. Y/N doesn’t care what people think. It’s a big reason she doesn’t look at tabloids or use her social media accounts, but this–thinking of pursuing a relationship with Harry is not something she can allow herself to give in.

“You’re sweet, Harry. I think you’re great too.” 

Harry grimaces because he realizes she doesn’t understand what he is saying. Before he can explain what he means, June, Y/N’s drummer, rushes in, telling her Felix was having an issue and it was bad. Y/N patted his shoulder and excused herself.

Well, it went nothing like he expected. Harry held out for her to say she felt the same, but she clearly didn’t. Harry knows many would tell him to move on, but he knows Y/N is special. While he wouldn’t pursue her, he knew he still wanted her in his life.  

+

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, after Harry’s confession, there has been an awkwardness in their conversations. It’s been too much because they no longer spend time alone. Y/N decided to treat their relationship the same, but when she went to his room that night, she found Mitch with him. Y/N knew that she messed up. She also knew she was being selfish by wanting to keep it all the same when he had put himself out there only for her to brush him off. 

A few shows go by, and Y/N feels better because Harry still seeks her out to have lunch together. He invites her to join his workouts, which she regrets because Brad is honestly insane. Brad had promised to make a routine that best fit her needs. Harry did not change much; he kept flirting, offering her compliments and daily hugs. A rush went through her each night, knowing he was watching her. 

Tonight was no different. He offered her a short hug, and off she went to play to his fans. Y/N felt off from the moment she got on stage but had no idea why. Quinn stepped close, wanting to know if she was feeling okay, but Y/N couldn’t describe it other than a pit in her stomach. It was as if she sensed something was coming. Y/N promised she was fine and pushed through. 

Halfway through the set, Y/N looked over and saw Harry staring at her with a fond smile. Y/N didn’t want to look away but had a show to play. Her feelings were winning, and Y/N knew she wouldn’t care about the aftermath if she decided to date Harry. She wanted to bask in the feeling of liking him and hopefully loving him one day. So, she decided to do something different to let him know she was ready to have that conversation. 

“Right, this is a little different tonight. I-I have a friend who loves this song, and we haven’t played it in some time, but I thought they might enjoy it and hopefully you as well. This is ‘Crystal Clear.’” 

This song is one she wrote when she was wishing for a happy future with a partner who loves and respects her, showing them that she won’t give in to her fears and wants to be together. It was one of Quinn’s favorites to play, but all collectively agreed it didn’t fit the setlist. Y/N knew she’d get endless questions for adding it so suddenly, but she’d deal with that after speaking with Harry. They played a few more songs, and once she gave her final bow, she hurried off stage. Y/N expected to find Harry waiting for her there but instead ran into Mitch, who looked at her, startled.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N asked impatiently. 

“Piano room, but–”

She hurried down the hall, ignoring Mitch, who tried telling her to stop. She didn’t realize he was following her down. 

“Y/N don’t–” She walks into the piano room even as Mitch tries to stop her to find Harry hugging a woman. Y/N knew it wasn’t a friend because the grip the woman had on Harry was one of possession.  Harry was looking at her, but his face was hard to read. It was as if all the walls she had broken down were now standing higher and stronger. Y/N didn’t move her eyes away from him; her eyes landed on his swollen lips. It’s clear she interrupted a private moment. Y/N grimaces because she knows she would never be able to think about this piano without the tainted memory of Harry wrapped in the arms of another. 

“I’m sorry,” she sends them a grim look and walks out, closing the door behind her. She finds Mitch and Sarah staring at her, unsure what to do; they must be aware of the situation between her and Harry. 

“Is that his…” She couldn’t even say the word. 

Sarah frowned, “she’s uh kind of friend.”

Y/N didn’t need to hear anymore. Sure, Harry said he liked her, but when she didn’t give him the answer he wanted, what did she want him to do, beg and make her open her eyes. No, she needed to figure it out on her own, and now that she did, it was too late.

It’s not like she had a reason to be jealous. She never told Harry she liked him. All she did was pat his shoulder and move on like nothing had ever been said. Y/N bid Mitch and Sarah good luck for the night and walked to her green room. Y/N’s tears began to fall as soon as the door closed behind her. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Nothing was going on between them, yet why did she feel like nothing would be the same anymore. Maybe it was hurting because he had promised to watch her set each night, and she sang a different song tonight because he had said it was his favorite. Y/N knew she wasn’t being fair, sending him mixed signals, but Y/N didn’t deserve to feel this either. It made her feel as if his feelings weren’t even real. She was blinded by her tears to notice June was on the couch, book in hand, but was thankful she was there because she got to break down in the comfort of arms she was familiar with. 

Y/N wasn’t okay, but she would be. It was only a crush.

+

Y/N could not sleep that night. She tossed and turned until she gave up and decided to go to her balcony to watch the sunrise. Time moved slowly, and it allowed her to regroup. By eight o’clock, she was all packed up and waiting in the lobby. Y/N rode to the airport with her friends, where they would all get on separate flights and reunite in May for rehearsals and more love on tour. Y/N was ready to go home and enjoy a home-cooked meal with her mother. She had said goodbye to everyone except for one person. He was quieter today; it allowed him to blend in. Harry had a “Damn” sweater on, the hood up, and a claw clip in the jumper's pocket. Y/N starts walking his way before she can change her mind. 

“Harry,” she calls out softly. 

He looks up, offering her the tiniest smile. “Y/N.”

“Have a good break.” She offers awkwardly. 

He nods. They make no move, and Y/N knows they have no idea where they stand, but Y/N would never start something if Harry had someone else, so she knew she had to come back from the break clear-headed and with these feelings gone and, if not at least tucked away. 

Y/N opened her arms and shrugged, telling him it was up to him. Harry didn’t even have to think about it; he wrapped her in a tight hug, breathing her in for one last time. 

“Have a safe flight,” he whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

She walks away with a heavy heart and hopes a month and a half is enough to lose these feelings.

+

While home, Y/N tries to deal with her feelings, and for the most part, it works. Y/N got in the routine of going on morning walks followed by an hour of yoga. She found it helpful in clearing her thoughts and starting her day without a clouded mind. Y/N had not talked to Harry since that morning in the airport; he had sent texts, but they had all gone unread. Her mother tried to convince her to answer him, but she knew it would only hurt more if she found out he was dating that person. The only good thing about this is that Y/N had written five new songs. It seemed heartbreak and love were always a good sign of inspiration. Y/N played her favorite to her mum, and she was told it was okay. Felix told her that the new song was the heart of the new album she was working on. Through the years, she had learned to take what her mother says with a grain of salt. 

Her mother was also tired of her moping. Y/N, when on break, would go to her own flat and visit her mother occasionally but so far spent her entire holiday there. Her mother assured Y/N she enjoyed having her home, but it did worry her that she had not left the house. So, as any mother would do, she set Y/N up for a blind date. Y/N said no, time and time again, but Reina promised it would only be coffee. Y/N knew she didn’t have to go, but some of her was tempted because while she knew she had friends to call up, this wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Going out and talking with a stranger would be awkward but would be a change in topic. 

Y/N was told he’d find her as he received a photo of her. She got there early, deciding to use the time to read a book. Quinn told her “One Last Stop” would change her life and, so far, hadn’t disappointed. Y/N was lost in the story that she jumped up when someone lightly touched her shoulder. 

“Shit, sorry,” she looked up, hoping the person hadn’t spilled any coffee, and to her surprise, they were empty-handed. His chocolate eyes were filled with concern, but Y/N brushed it off by offering him a timid smile. “Hi, are you Miles?” 

“Yes, and you’re Y/N,” he stated. 

“Mhm…it’s nice to meet you.” 

Miles nods, “you’re prettier than the picture I was sent.” 

Y/N feels her face warm in embarrassment and doesn’t even dare ask to see the photo they showed him. If she knew her mother, it had to be the time she jumped into Glacier Lake and came out looking like a wet dog. Her mother always made sure to keep her humble. “Thanks,” she mumbled. 

He gestures for her to sit down and follows after her. She tucks her book back into her bag, ready to give him her full attention. “Do you want something to drink? Heard they have an amazing lavender latte.” 

Y/N gestures to her cup before her, “already got something.”

Miles nods, “a pastry, then?”

Now that she would never say no to. “I’ll take a muffin please.” 

“You got it.” 

Miles walks over to the counter, and while he’s away, she allows herself to look him over. He’s cute, wearing black trousers and a baby blue cardigan. It’s clear he’s comfortable with his style by how he carries himself. Y/N knows if she wasn’t trying to get over her feelings, she would have given him a chance, but with her going back on tour, she isn’t ready for that.

When Miles returns to the table with his drink and two muffins, she asks him about his work and family. She discovers he’s an art curator and is working on his next collection. He shares he has two older siblings and two younger, making him the middle child. His mother tries to make it up by having lunch with him each week, but it’s easy to be overlooked as a middle child. Y/N is intrigued with him and knows Miles would be a good friend; if anything, she thinks Felix would get on with him better than she did. 

Y/N realized it was her turn to talk about herself, but she didn’t really like stating her job. Sometimes, people judged her, and she honestly didn’t want things to get worse with Miles, but it seemed Y/N’s luck would not improve because when the door opened, a familiar face walked in. Familiar brown curls sticking out from his trucker hat, Harry’s casual wear had always been comfortable but stylish. He always tended to run cold, so he wore an oversized green coat that reminded her of the time he threw it over her when he saw she fell asleep in his green room after his soundcheck. Y/N looked away before he could see her, but Y/N was right by an open space, easy to view by the counter. Harry could spot anything and everyone, and he was never one to be rude and ignore someone, but she hoped that would change today.

She turned back to her conversation, but in the corner of her eye, she saw someone approaching. Y/N held her breath, hoping he would walk past her, but stopped right in front of her. 

“Y/N.” Oh, how she missed hearing her name falling from his lips. 

She looks up and finds him staring at her with a timid smile. Y/N gets up and offers him a hug that he quickly accepts. They keep it short, though she feels his hand linger at the small of her back, almost like he didn’t want her to move away, but she wasn’t alone. 

“Harry, this is uh…Miles. Miles, this is Harry.” 

Harry doesn’t ask anything. He simply tells Miles it’s great to meet him. Miles looks at Y/N in confusion, but she brushes him off. “How’d you meet?” Harry asks, intrigued. 

“Our mum’s set us up on a date,” Miles explains for her. “It’s actually our first time meeting.” 

Y/N isn’t sure why Miles shared that with Harry, but she can’t blame it. Harry has this trusting aura that makes people want to tell him all their darkest secrets. Y/N would know, seeing as she has shared parts of herself with Harry that no one else has seen, not even her best friends. 

Harry nods. She can’t seem to read him at all. His pseudonym name is called, and he uses that as his exit. “Well, it was good to see you.”

“You too, H. I’ll see you soon.” 

He nods, giving his goodbye to Miles as well. Y/N watches him until he’s out of the coffee shop and no longer in her view from the mirrors. She finds Miles studying her and knows he might have been able to pick up on the tension between her and Harry. 

“Do you want to tell me about that? You don’t have to.” 

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop.  “To start, I kinda have a crush on him, but he’s my boss.”

Miles' eyes widened in shock, “Harry Styles is your boss!” He was not expecting that, but she could tell he was intrigued. His response sends her into a laughing fit, and knows that while she won’t be dating Miles, he will make a good friend.

+

Y/N felt her break was long and too short at the same time. While she was able to use the time to re-energize, she also wrote a few more songs she wanted to share with her band before booking time for studio sessions. Y/N knew studio time would be hard to find, but she was determined to do it between breaks, even if all she got was two hours.

They had been rehearsing on the stage when she heard a clap from their final song for the set. Y/N turned and spotted the Love Band. She set down her guitar and rushed into Pauli’s arms. They spun her around, laughing as she blubbered on how she missed them. Pauli set her down, giving everyone a chance to say hello. Hanging in the back of the group were Mitch and Harry. Y/N knew she would need to have a conversation with Harry soon, but for now, she would bask in the joy of being back on tour and sharing the stage with him.

“Harry! Mitch!” 

Harry looked surprised to see her look happy, calling for him. He sent her a small wave, but Y/N was going in for the hug. He basked in the warmth she had to share with him. Being back in the same space with Y/N was comforting after seeing her out on a date a few weeks ago. It made him feel awful, and he couldn’t help that he made Y/N feel the same with his last fling. 

She let go of him, moving on to Mitch. Y/N was chatting away, telling them she had gotten a new guitar and was excited to play it tonight. Soon enough, Mitch and her were lost in their own conversation about lyrics she had written and how she was stuck on finding a melody that would work. Mitch promised to have a look and give her any ideas that would come up. 

“You’re still welcome to use the piano, Y/N. I know how much that helped before,” Harry offered. 

Y/N fell quiet because while she knew Harry was still there, she didn’t feel overwhelmed because she wasn’t conversing with him, but now all his attention was on her. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” she mumbles, knowing she wouldn’t take him up on it.  

Harry nods, and he thinks better of it while he’s about to excuse himself. “Y/N, do you—would it be okay if we talked in private.” 

Mitch excuses himself, leaving it all up to Y/N. She has no idea what this conversation will entail but owes it to herself to hear him out. “Lead the way, boss.” 

Harry looks pleased and walks off the stage, leading them down some stairs and into the pit, but he doesn’t stop there. He makes her climb a few more stairs, landing them in tonight's lower bowl section of the venue.

Y/N whistles, taking in the view from the distance. “Quite a view. I might have to watch the show from here one night.” 

He laughs, “you let me know, and we can make it happen. We’ll make sure you’re not mobbed.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please, your fans wouldn’t be able to recognize me.”

“Beg to differ. There are more signs for you each night.” Y/N waves him off. “They’ve started to make Tik Tok edits about you.” Harry doesn’t share how he knows, but some nights over the break, he spent time watching them. It made him miss her more, seeing her running around the stage like it was hers. She had the crowd in the palm of her hand, and she didn’t even know it. 

“Please, stop!” Y/N laughs. “My ego can only take so much.” 

Y/N had forgotten how easy it was with Harry, but being with him now made her wish things hadn’t changed. She had to go an entire month without hearing from him because her feelings were hurt over something that should not have bothered her.

“Y/N, I am sorry for how we left things in Japan.”

She grimaces, “me too.” Harry quickly disagrees, but Y/N reminds him of all his unanswered texts.

“You’re forgiven,” he tells her. 

While Y/N appreciates it, a big topic needs to be addressed. 

Harry takes a deep breath before turning his body to look at her. “I know my actions and words might have confused you, but I’m here to be honest. I won’t lie to you, not now, not ever. Do you understand?” 

She nods. 

“Words Y/N. I need to hear you say it.” 

“I understand. You won’t lie to me. I trust you,” Y/N truly believes her words. 

He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I like you, and I went on to do something stupid. The girl you saw me with is named Victoria. She–well, to put it lightly, she was a hookup, and she’d join me from time to time. When you saw me that night, she was surprising me because she was going through a breakup and needed comfort, and well–I felt rejected and fell into her. I’m not blaming you–I know I could have said no, but I was too overwhelmed that I preferred to do something to disappoint myself and you. My therapist said if I had talked about it with someone–anyone, this wouldn’t have happened, but I’m not too good with words most times.”

Y/N offers him a smile, “doing pretty good now.”

Harry reaches for her hand, and Y/N lets him take it. She can see he needs the support. “I got a lot to work through, but I’m better and want to be a better partner and person. I want to be someone worthy of you.” 

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out. “That's–you’re…that’s not why I didn’t confess my feelings. You’re amazing. I would be so lucky to explore a relationship with you.”

He looks at her, confused, “then what is it?”

“You’re my boss. You can say under technicalities you aren’t, but this is your sold-out world tour. I’m making a name for myself, doing what I love. While being an opening act for you has been a dream come true, being tied to you as your girlfriend will put my name out there, but not how I want. Do you understand?” Y/N hopes she got her point across, never wanting Harry to think he wasn’t enough.

Harry sighs because he knows where she is coming from. He wished he didn’t; he wished he could beg her to say yes to dating him to see where it could lead, but Harry knows how much she loves being on stage, and he would never dare threaten to take that from her or anything that comes with it. 

“I understand. I do. I like you, I do. While it sucked seeing you dating someone else, I respect you. I still want to be your friend.” Harry rubs a hand under his scuffed jaw. “I miss talking with you about each show at night.”

Y/N squeezes his hands. “Friends, we’re friends. I hope you’re okay with me being in your life, even as a friend.” 

Harry stands up, bringing her with him, and wraps her in a tight hug. He breathes her in. She has a distinct smell of roses and vanilla. It’s perfectly her. He wished he could bottle up the scent and take it with him wherever he went so that it hopefully would make missing her easier. 

“I’ll always be your friend,” he assures her. 

He can be friends with her. Harry knows it could lead him to heartbreak, but it would be worth it for Y/N.

+

The next few shows fly by, and Y/N and Harry easily fall into a routine again. Y/N joins Harry for his morning workouts, but Brad made her a workout to suit her likes. While Harry loves intense core workout, Y/N loves to stretch. There are days when all three go off to do a Pilates class. Mainly, Y/N does her yoga in a corner and joins Harry for his core sets. 

From there, they’ll do breakfast with their bandmates, sometimes together, and sometimes go their separate ways. They have limited their time together alone because Y/N knows her feelings for Harry are only growing, and Harry wants to respect Y/N and her boundaries. Y/N shared with her bandmates how she felt, and they understood, except Quinn, who told her she should go for it. Everyone looked at Quinn, shocked, but he just shook his head, telling her to really think about this because, from his point of view, Y/N and Harry were perfect for each other. Y/N let Quinn’s words ring through her mind for some time, but Y/N was nervous about taking that next step. She wasn’t sure how it would work. She loves working with Harry, and she knows he’s taking a break after, but what if he doesn’t like that his partner is never home, just like him. Y/N loves being with her family, but she’s never happier than when she is on stage. Y/N can’t seem to take that step just yet. 

In Scotland, Y/N finally decided to return to using Harry’s piano. She initially felt strange but realized she had been missing it for some time. Y/N walks in and is happy to find it open. Y/N runs a hand over the smooth wood before taking a seat. She sets down her old journal and opens it up to the last page she wrote. 

Y/N lets her hands rest on the keys before going into C major. She repeats it a few times until she feels ready. It was a slow melody that went hand in hand with her lyrics. She began to sing in the room with only the sound of the piano. 

Look at me. I feel homesick

Want my dog in the door

And the light in the kitchen

A creek behind her made her jump up suddenly, hands shooting out to grab her notebook to her chest. Harry steps back, hands up in defense. There is an apologetic look on his face.

“I knocked, but don’t think you heard.” 

Y/N feels her face heat up and knows she tends to get lost in her music. “Sorry, it was empty when I came in. Did not expect you to come in. I can leave if you are planning to use the space. It is yours, after all.” 

Harry brushes her off, walks into the room, and gestures for her to sit back on the bench with him. He scoots in close, wanting no space between them. “What did you play just now? I’ve never heard a tune so mellow yet sad.” 

“Think I wrote my album closer,” she confesses. 

The joy on Harry’s face is apparent. “Shit, really! That’s wonderful.”

“It’s--gosh, how I explain it. I felt like floating, and this melody really carried me through. You can find an underlying of it through a few of the other songs,” she can’t help but express to him

Harry sits back, impressed, “is the album complete?” 

“Think so. I need to go into the studio and finish a few, maybe decide on one or two. Then, all good to go. Think all that’s missing is a name.” 

“Y/N’s house,” he jokes. 

“Ah, wouldn’t that be nice. I have an idea, but I need to be sure.” 

“Will you play it for me?” 

Y/N knows what he’s asking, and part of her wants to say no, but no one has heard the song. Not her bandmates, not her co-writers, not her producer, and certainly not her mother. Y/N knows if she shares this with Harry, it will change the entire album for her. When she thinks back on this song, it will now have a whole new meaning. 

“It’s six minutes.”

“I have all the time in the world,” he promises her. 

While they both know it’s not true, she appreciates the sentiment as they’re both set to perform tonight. Y/N takes a deep breath and, with trembling hands, begins to play her song for him. Y/N drags the intro out for a little longer before letting herself sing these lyrics she’s been carrying around for weeks. Y/N has her eyes closed, swaying as she lets herself tell this story of being exhausted and lonely for being away from everything she loves while feeling at home and her most genuine self. It tells the story of how she can grow even when experiencing so much change while being entirely on her own.

I feel like myself right now.

I feel like myself right now.

I feel like myself right now.

I feel like myself right now

Mmm.

Y/N opens her eyes, looks at Harry, and finds him crying. She sits up straight, practically pushing herself to sit in his lap as she wipes away his tears. “No, no, what are you doing? Please don’t cry.” 

“You made me cry,” he mumbles while Y/N keeps her hands on his cheeks, brushing away his tears with her thumbs. “It was a fucking brilliant song.”

Y/N feels her face warm, “you think so?”

He nods, “think my tears say enough.”

“You could have cried because it was awful.” 

Harry bursts out laughing, “absolutely not.”

Y/N wants to lean in and kiss him to thank him for his kind words, but he doesn’t deserve her confusion. “It’s the perfect way to end my album.” 

“I agree.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “you haven’t heard the whole thing.” 

Harry shrugs, “don’t have to.” The flattery is becoming too much, but she doesn’t want to move away from him. “You’ll remember this moment when you win album of the year next awards season.” 

“Shut up, those are stupid.” 

“Hey now! I happen to own a few.” 

Her hands are still on his face, his tears now dried up, but she doesn’t move away. Y/N is enjoying this too much, and a part of her knows Harry is, too. “I don’t do it for the awards. Music is something I’ve always had, and if I can share it with a few others and they find some type of meaning from it, then it means I’ve done a job well done.” 

“Fucking well said, Y/N.” 

Y/N giggles, “You can open for me on my tour after I win my Grammy,” she teases.

Harry places a hand over his heart, “it would be my greatest honor.” 

“Shut up, you dork.”

Y/N finally lets her hands drop, and Harry takes a second to hide his disappointment. 

“Does this mean we can hang out with a buffer now?” 

Y/N furrows her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “Sorry?”

Harry pinches her thigh lightly, making her jump closer to him, almost losing her balance. He wraps his hand around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Come on, we’ve been hanging out together, but someone always seems to be with us. If it’s not Brad, it’s Anthony; if it’s not Pauli, it’s Quinn. It’s been never-ending.”

They didn’t mean to do it, but Y/N knows she’s missed their inside jokes and private late-night talks when Harry tells everyone he goes to bed early when, in reality, he’s chatting Y/N’s ear off. 

“I guess we can go back to late-night pillow talks.” 

“And exploring the city?” 

“Course, I missed your Google facts.” 

“Heey,” he yells, offended. 

“Can’t deny it. I saw you do it many times.”

“Trying to impress you,” he mutters. “Clearly, all I do is fail.” 

“Stick to music. You’ll go far in life,” Y/N laughs as he rolls his eyes at her. 

“Haha, it means we start right now. Found this old thrift shop nearby.” He pulls her with him as he drags her out, careful to ensure they aren’t caught because if word is out Harry has gone without security, it could be madness. 

“We’ve got a show in a few hours.” 

“They’ve got beautiful skirts. I called and got pictures sent over.” 

Y/N sighs. He knows her too well. “Lead the way, H.” 

Harry shoots her a charming smile, and Y/N knows she would have followed him wherever he asked her to without a second thought. She knew she was in safe hands with him.

+

Harry and Y/N had fun exploring Amsterdam for a few days before heading to Ireland. They had each planned an activity and a place they wanted to eat. Sometimes, they disagreed on food because of Harry’s eating choices, while Y/N would eat anything and everything as long as dessert was always included. Harry thought it was too much, but when he found out how much Y/N enjoyed it, he said yes and ensured she had something sweet, even if he didn’t get anything. 

Jeff would tell Harry off for going without security or someone for the team but brushed him off because he didn’t need anyone intruding on his time with Y/N. He loved spending hours with her uninterrupted, touring cities he had never once had the chance to explore. While he enjoyed those days, Harry also loved show days because he got to see Y/N dance around on stage. She went from singing in sweats to her favorite mini skirts for showtime, and when Y/N decided to pair it with a baby tee, Harry had to think of world hunger and puppies to make his hard-on go away. He knows he should look away, but she captivates him every time she’s on stage, dancing and spinning around to sitting on the edge of the stage. Y/N occasionally brought fans on stage, but when that happened, he would be taken further backstage for his safety; he knew those fans were there for her at that time while he was forgotten.

Tonight was a big night. Harry would be playing at Slane Castle. Harry knew it would be special because not everyone is asked to perform here. Harry had spent most of his time today with his crew, psyching Mitch up for his debut performance. Many didn’t know Mitch had created an album and were even more surprised when he was announced as another opener for tonight. Y/N was still at the forefront of his mind, knowing he had to wish her luck for tonight. He’d be deeper in the audience tonight to watch all his friends open this monumental show for him.

Y/N would be a fool to not know what it means to be playing Slane Castle in Ireland today. Y/N’s nerves were insane today. She knew she wasn’t nervous. No, she was anxious. When she was younger, her biggest fear was disappointing her mother. Y/N hated failing others, while her mom did an excellent job of assuring she didn’t have to carry all that pressure on her shoulders. Sometimes, it came back, and she couldn’t shake it.

She had spent thirty minutes on the phone with her mother, and nothing helped. Y/N wasn’t worried about disappointing herself. No, this–tonight was bigger than her. Quinn and Felix could tell something was up, but they couldn’t help, not when June kept taking off a piece of clothing when she saw the time move closer to when they were meant to take the stage. 

June was on a clothes removal band and couldn’t go to the restroom alone or even for a snack. It was honestly quite funny. It allowed Y/N to momentarily take her mind off the anxiety lingering in her body. When Y/N saw she had half an hour and her handshake got worse, she felt her throat swell up and excused herself. Y/N had no idea where to go or where to hide. She simply walked and ended up in a secluded corner where she tried to center herself before going on stage.

Harry walks into Y/N’s green room excited to see her, but all he finds are her three bandmates playing cards while June sits in a robe. He doesn’t bother questioning it and instead asks for Y/N.

They all turn to look at each other before Quinn answers. “She left like ten minutes ago. She said she needed a breather.”

That makes sense; he hates that he doesn’t know where exactly she went. Felix pulls her phone out and airdrops a location to Harry. “That’s her exact location. You should have her share her location with you. We can always see where she is.”

Not a bad idea at all. He wouldn’t mind Y/N knowing where he was, especially if seeing where she was on a map could bring him the smallest of comfort. Harry thanks them and walks back out. He walks for around ten minutes until he reaches a secluded corner in the grass. Y/N is sitting on an oversized denim jacket while she stares at her hands. 

“Y/N,” he calls out softly to not startle her. She lifts her head and offers him a shaky grin. He can instantly tell something’s wrong. “Hi, love. Been looking for you.” 

She shrugs as if to say she’s here. Harry steps closer but is careful not to invade her space. “Came by to wish you luck.” 

Harry regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth because Y/N looked away from him, burying her face in her hands. He heard her cries, hurried to sit down, and scooped her in his lap. He rocked her back and forth as he tried to get her to stop. He hated seeing her upset. Y/N was always the epitome of strength, and this had him worried. Y/N expressed that she had a hard time going on stage, but she said it was ages ago. 

He whispered sweet nothings, hoping to calm her down, but it wasn’t working. “Please tell me how I can help. Please,” he begged.

“I-I-I don’t w-want to disappoint you,” she cries out. Her tears keep falling, and seeing her like this breaks his heart. 

“Hey, hey. I got you.” Harry brings her close, letting her rest her head on his chest. “You’re okay. I got you.” 

“It’s a big night for you, and I want to make you proud. I-I can’t disappoint you,” she repeats. 

Harry hates that she thinks she can do anything to disappoint him. He pulls her away from his chest because he needs her to understand that she can do no wrong in his eyes. “Love, will you look at me?” 

Y/N lifts her head, and her teary eyes meet his warm ones. He hates that she’s doubting herself. “Tonight is the same as any other.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not. No–”

“Shh—yes, it is. Do you want to know why?” 

“Why?” She mumbles. 

Harry brushes her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Because I’ll still be watching. I will be cheering you on as I do every night. You make every night special, and I know tonight will be no different.” 

“You have too much faith in me,” she mutters against his shirt.

“I always will. I’m a big fan of you, Y/N, not only as a person but also as an artist. I’ve seen how hard you work. How you constantly want to improve each song and each set. You want everyone in that audience to have fun even if they aren’t here for you. This is a large crowd, but if you close your eyes, it’s just you and the band. That is what you can control. So, tonight, when you get on stage, whether you sing one song or five or if you mess up a guitar note or you change your setlist. I can promise you I will be proud.” 

Y/N sniffles; her tears have dried up. “Harry,” she whines. Y/N can’t find any words and throws her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Harry wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tight. It’s a comfort they have been both seeking all day. Y/N then realized that all the anxiety she faced was because of Harry. She admires and respects him and wouldn’t dare want to mess up his big night. 

“Every night is special. Tonight is slightly different only because Mitch is also performing,” Harry teases, hoping to make her laugh, and it works. He feels her laugh move through his chest and settle deep in his heart. “It’s another stop of Love on Tour, and then it’s home shows. Now that should scare you,” he jokes. “My family will be there.” 

Y/N knows those words should frighten her, but if anything, it brings her comfort. Harry’s family and hers will meet for the first time, which she had been looking forward to. Honestly, if her mum gives the seal of approval to Harry, it might indeed be over for her. Although that’s something to worry about in a few days, for now, her focus is on putting on a show to remember the thousands of people at Slane Castle. 

“Do you want to pick my outfit tonight?” Y/N offers, in exchange for him helping her avoid a panic attack, her hands playing with the ends of his hair. 

Harry lights up, “you mean it?” 

Y/N laughs, “it’s got to match my ribbons for tonight.” 

Harry pouts, “what do you take me for?”

She shrugs.

“I’ll have you know I co-hosted the Met Gala.” 

Y/N wags her eyebrows, “fancy.” 

“Shoes?”

“Not up for debate.” 

Harry waves her off, “good enough for me.” 

They walk back together, hand in hand, as Harry goes over possible outfit combinations he has in mind for her. He really wants to see her in leather pants because he knows it will hug her nicely. Her black bows sit nicely in her hair as she does her makeup. June made her do an eye mask for ten minutes to bring down the puffiness in her eyes. It worked, mostly. Y/N did a shimmery eyeshadow and her eyeliner. All that was left was her outfit. 

Y/N walked into the bathroom, where Harry told her it was all laid out. She shimmied into her sequined flares and slipped on the simple black baby tee. She ruffled her hair a bit, and overall, Y/N was happy with the look for tonight. She walked out to find everyone waiting for her. She did a spin and got lots of whistles and claps. Y/N told them all to shut up and to get to the stage. She lingered behind with Harry. The look he was giving her was anything but friendly.

“You look beautiful.”

“Might have to hire you as my stylist,” she jokes. 

“No, I’d have you wear skirts every night.” 

“But not tonight?” Y/N asks confused. 

“Wanted something different tonight.”

Y/N doesn’t argue with him. She did give him a full range of her clothes. Y/N hears her name being called and knows she needs to get her mic pack. 

“I’ll see you after?” Y/N checks. 

“Of course.” 

They stand there staring at each other. Y/N, for a moment, thinks Harry will kiss her, and she knows she will let him. Instead, he does something that makes her catch her breath. He steps close and leans down to press a kiss on her forehead. “Good luck, Y/N.”

It’s a simple gesture, but it has her heart racing. “Thank you, H.” 

Y/N hurries off after and thanks her engineer for her mic. They hook it to the side of her pants, and Y/N jumps to test its security. So far, so good. Y/N looks behind her one last time and finds Harry giving her a thumbs-up. She could do this. Y/N would go on stage and have fun. 

From the moment Y/N got on stage to when she got off, Y/N could not stop smiling. The crowd was incredible, singing her most popular songs back to her. She could not stop thanking them for a fantastic night. 

“Before I play you one last song and finally leave this stage, there is one last thank you. To Harry, thank you for asking me to be a part of such a special day. It’s one I will never forget. Thank you for the kindness, but most importantly, thank you for sharing your fans. They have been the best crowds to play to. This one's for you.” 

Y/N had never done a dedication before, but it felt right tonight.

In the crowd, Harry was watching Y/N’s set, and while he didn’t need a thank you, it meant a lot coming from Y/N. Harry had no idea Brad was recording him or that he caught Harry blushing as Y/N dedicated the night's final song to him. His friends knew teasing was always okay with Harry, but he looked transfixed, staring at Y/N serenading the crowd they knew could wait until later. 

Y/N had the time of her life dancing with Felix, Quinn, and June to Harry’s set. She laughed loudly when he got called a slag, cheered when he thanked his band, tried to hide when he thanked her and the other openers and cried as he played “Fine Line.” It was a perfect show, everything Harry deserved. 

While it was late, Y/N and Harry still hung out, talking about their favorite bits when they reached their hotel rooms. Y/N loved it when a fan shouted they loved her during a song transition. Harry thought “Kiwi” went insane tonight. Y/N recounted the slag story, and Harry let her laugh it up. He teased her, saying he noticed when she tripped over her words when introducing her band. It was every moment that made the night special. While they had a few days off before Wembley, Y/N knew it was time to head for bed as it would be a travel day. Y/N couldn’t wait to hug her mum and knew Harry felt the same.

Harry lingered outside her door as if he didn’t want to leave. Y/N wanted him to stay, but it would be crossing the boundaries they set for each other. Y/N knew she had a lot to figure out, but day by day, everything became more apparent. 

“Good night, Y/N love.” 

Y/N steps on her tiptoes and presses a soft kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, H.” Harry walked away from her with a cheesy grin on her face. As Y/N closed the door, she knew one thing: that she liked Harry.

She is head over heels for him. Y/N knew the ball was in her court. She had to make a move if she wanted anything to happen. It seemed the hometown shows were about to get interesting. 

+

Y/N had dreamed about playing at Wembley Stadium. While it technically wasn’t for her, she would play in a sold-out stadium. Y/N would open the show for four nights. She’d get to play here and dream of a future where she sold out her favorite stadium in her hometown. 

She was in the middle of the walkway, where Harry sings “Matilda” each night. Y/N doesn’t hear the camera shutter or the footsteps approaching her. Y/N is simply taking it all in, wanting to remember the stadium empty before she sees it filled up.

“Do you still dream about nights like tonight?” Y/N turns her head when she hears her mother’s gentle voice. 

“Mum!” Y/N shoots up from where she’s sitting and runs into her open arms. Y/N stands taller than her mother but never feels smaller than being wrapped tightly in her familiar embrace. “Thought you were coming until later.” 

Reina laughed, “Wanted to spend the day with you, oh, and Quinn promised we’d catch up on gossip.”

Y/N shook her head, “did he bring you out here?” 

“Sure did. I needed to say hi to my girl before gossiping my life away.” 

“Is it book club?” 

Reina sighs dramatically, “it always is.”

Y/N and her mum chatter as they make their way backstage. She’s got family members and friends coming over the four days, but her mum promised to be at all four. Her childhood best friends, Tiffany and Elena. Her cousins and nephews were coming, even her Aunt and Uncles. Y/N reminded everyone she was simply the opening act, but no one cared; they were all proud of her. 

She had introduced her mother to nearly everyone except her favorite person. Y/N found Harry with his headphones in but took them off when he noticed her. 

“Y/N,” he greets with a cheerful smile. He quickly notices the woman beside her and introduces himself as Harry, a friend of Y/N’s. 

“My mum, Reina,” Y/N tells him.

Harry grins, “I see the resemblance. We know Y/N will look just as amazing as you in the future.” 

Reina can’t stop smiling, “dear, you didn’t tell me how cheeky this one is.” 

“He’s a flirt, Mumma. Nothing is stopping him.” 

“Oi, you see what I have to deal with,” Harry teases. “I only flirt with pretty girls named Y/N.”

“And who’s from London,” her mum adds.

Harry points a finger at Reina before turning to look at Y/N, “I like her. I really do.”

“Keep her,” Y/N tells him. “I can only take so much teasing.” 

“Oh, darling. You can never get rid of me.” 

Harry throws a hand over her shoulder, bringing her close to his side. “Like you too much to go through life without you.” Y/N rolls her eyes, but her Mumma can see how flustered she has become. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet my Mum and sister. They were set to arrive any minute now.” 

It’s Y/N's turn to perk up, “your Mum’s here.” 

Harry feels his heart swell at her excitement to meet his mother. He has no idea what he and Y/N are, but they’re certainly more than friends.

+

Y/N spent the entire afternoon chatting with Anne and Gemma. She didn’t mean to monopolize her time, but Anne would keep the conversation going, and Y/N was enjoying it too much to remember she had a different job to do. 

“Y/N, babe, we’ve got sound check,” Felix interrupted, apologizing to Anne.

Harry slipped into the spot next to Anne, “yeah, Y/N, leave my mum alone and go work.”

Before Y/N could rebuttal, Anne slapped his knee lightly, chastising him to be polite. Harry winked in Y/N’s direction. She excused herself and promised Anne she’d see her around for the next few days. Y/N walked out to find the band waiting for her. Y/N looked back one last time to check in on her mother and was happy to see her wrapped up in a conversation with Pauli and Mitch. 

Quinn smirked when she made her way towards them. “Take it your mother-in-law likes you.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. She slapped his shoulder, telling him to shut up. 

“Wembley, Wembley, I don’t know if you know this, but London is where I grew up. So, boss man, these are all my hometown shows, too.” Y/N laughed when the crowd cheered. “My mom took me to concerts with her because she preferred to take me with her to create these beautiful memories together instead of me staying home with a relative. So, if you enjoy my music and are happy I pursued this dream, you can thank Reina. Mum, you’re my best friend and my number one supporter. Thank you for everything. I love you.” 

Y/N turned to see the screens where her mother was shown wiping her tears and blowing kisses to the screen. Y/N saw Tiffany reach over and give her a cuddle and knew she’d be in trouble for making her cry, but it was worth it. 

“My name is Y/N, and it’s been a pleasure playing for you. Here’s one last song. Good night, Wembley. You’re in for a hell of a show with Harry Styles, I promise.” 

Y/N ran off stage and straight into the arms of the first person she saw, which happened to be Harry. While she didn’t see him before going on stage because he had been out cheering on Madi, he was now looking at her proudly. Harry spun her around, and all Y/N wanted to do was reach down and give him a kiss. It took everything in her not to do it, especially when surrounded by hundreds of people.

 “You were amazing,” he breathed as he set her down.

“They’re fucking amazing,” Y/N told him, pointing out to the crowd. Y/N rambled on about how the crowd was like no other, that the energy they brought was nothing she had ever felt. “I didn’t want to leave the stage.”

Harry laughs loudly, “should have stayed there think I could have watched you all night.” 

“Awe, afraid you can’t surpass my amazingness,” she playfully mocks, knowing very well he’d knock this out of the park. Harry made a sold-out stadium feel like the most intimate show each night. 

Harry can’t stop looking away from her beaming face. It brings him so much joy to see her like this each night. All he wants to do is celebrate with her, showering her with kisses and telling her how proud he is of her. Instead, he lets her go and tells her he'll see her at the end of the night. There would be no late-night talks tonight as they’d be going to their respective home. “Best of luck, H.” 

He watches her walk away and mentally prepares for his first night of four in Wembley. 

+

Wembley had been perfect each night. His family and Y/N are getting on swimmingly. He hoped for it, but seeing it in person gave him hope that he and Y/N could pursue something. With a day off in between, he was back. He knew the end of the tour was nearing, and his time with Y/N was limited, but watching her on stage each night stopped him from doing anything because he preferred to have her as a friend rather than nothing at all.

Y/N was in a red skirt tonight with a white top with embezzled cherries scattered around. He remembered her mentioning it was his saddest song. It’s not one he would sing again, but he wondered if she was ever in his show's audience to hear it live. The ribbons were cherry red and long. Slowly, as she danced around, they were coming undone. One moment, she was in front of the stage, and the next, she was dancing her way down his long catwalk. She usually kept to the stage but used more and more over time. Tonight, she sang an entire song to his fans, who sang her songs right back to her. Harry knew having Y/N as an opener would be nice, but it’s nothing he ever imagined.

“Wembley, I know you didn’t come here to see me, but thank you to those who sang along. I have one last song, and soon enough, the man of the hour will grace you with his presence. A thank you to my wonderful band. They truly are my best friends. Give it up for Quinny Quinn Quinn on bass. He truly loves all the edits you’ve tagged him in. There is Felix on guitar and the occasional tambourine. Felix always has a new hair color and keeps us whole. Lastly, this band’s hero is Junie. Junie loves the drums and loves me the most,” Y/N teases as Quinn rolls his eyes at her. “Alright, this is–for me?” Y/N asks confused. She bends down, and the security hands her the bouquet of flowers. It’s a mix of pinks and yellows. It makes her tear up. “You sure?” The fan nods, telling her she brought them specially for her. Y/N holds them close to her chest. “I love you. This has made my entire night.” Y/N shows them off to her bandmates, who are all awed by the kind gesture. She places them by her water so she doesn’t forget them. “Alright, one last thank you to you all. This is the Band and I. Good night, Wembley. I love you!”

She hurries off stage with her bouquet in hand. June commented it was a kind gesture. It reminded Y/N how fans travel to see their artist live in concert. Y/N knows she had a sold-out tour when she finished Love on tour, and while it won’t start for a few months, this time is something she won’t ever forget. She’s grateful for the experience, grateful she gets to observe how the crew is treated, and how much comradery there is on this tour. She’s heard the stories of friendship blossoming. It’s beautiful, and now that she’s gotten a glimpse, she’s happy to be a part of but something she wants to take forward with her.

Y/N drops off her flowers and goes in search of Harry. 

Y/N likes Harry. 

She likes spending time with him and likes to sit in silence with him, but mostly, she likes hearing him talk and tell stories. Y/N has never felt at peace with a partner or felt the infamous belly full of butterflies, but she feels them both with Harry. She doesn’t even know when she began falling. All she knows is that she’s ready to tell Harry.

While she wants to share how she feels, she’s mostly dying to kiss him. Their tension is thick, and Y/N is ready to cut through it. She did not think Love on Tour would bring her love, but after hearing Mitch and Sarah’s story, she knows anything is possible and that Harry loves playing matchmaker. He’s a big romantic, which is something everyone has told her. 

She finds him in the piano room, playing an all too familiar melody. “You know, some would call that plagiarism.”  

Harry’s hands fall away from the keys, but he doesn’t turn to look at her. “It’s my favorite song.” 

“Not even released. I barely named it,” she tells him truthfully. 

He shrugs, “special enough to me.”

“Should have named it Harry’s song instead.” 

That gets him a look; his cheeks are red from her comment, and it settles Y/N’s nerves. Harry stands up, and she knows he wants to hug her. While she usually is eager to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she didn’t change coming off stage today and fears she might smell. “Think I might stink.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “stop it and get in here.” 

It is no use fighting it when she only wants to be in his arms. Y/N let herself melt against him, her hands resting around his waist.

“Quite incredible out there. Almost got jealous when you got handed those flowers.��� 

Y/N smirks and pulls back the tiniest bit to see the pout on his lips. “Almost?”

Harry huffs out a sigh. “Fine, I did.” 

She grins, “There’s no need to.”

“Why’s that?” 

“You’re the only person who’s got my eye,” she tells him honestly. 

Harry’s face turns red, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he pulls her in closer, resting his chin on her head. Y/N struggles to work up the courage to say those three words. She didn’t realize that the fear of rejection could win out when she really liked someone. 

She decides to go for it.

“Harry, will you do something for me if I ask?” 

“Only if you ask nicely,” he rebuttals.

Y/N pulls away from him, and he lets her. Her hands stay rooted on his waist, letting him know she doesn’t want him to go far.

“Kiss me, please,” Y/N whispers out into the room. Harry was shocked at her request. He stayed staring at her, unsure if he had misheard, but Y/N repeated herself one more time. “Will you please kiss me?” 

He had been waiting for this moment when everything would shift for them, and now that it was here, he was overwhelmed. Harry wanted to kiss her but didn’t know what it would mean for her because he knew what it meant to him. There was a part of him that knew how she felt, but he was dying to hear it.

Instead of questioning it, Harry decides to lean in Y/N, lifting her head to allow their lips to touch, but Harry keeps just enough distance between them to see if she really wants this. Harry lets their lips brush, leaving the ball in her court. He was tempted to go all in but needed to know she wanted him. Y/N was in a daze; she had never felt like she could pass out from a simple touch, but with Harry, it had been like that from the start, from small touches to holding hands. Y/N knew precisely what he was doing and knew exactly what she wanted. 

Y/N connected their lips, and she felt fireworks go off. She doesn’t know why she stayed away for so long. Now, she never wants to go without him. Harry raises his hands to cup her face, taking control of the kiss. It is gentle and full of care. She never wanted it to end, and it seemed neither did Harry. Harry was getting lost in the taste of Y/N. He knew he didn’t care what happened as long as he got to keep her in the end. 

He pulled away breathless, but Y/N pulled him back in for another kiss before he could say anything. It went on for what felt like hours but could have only been a few minutes. There was a loud pounding on the door that made the spring apart. Y/N gazed at his swollen lips and knew she must look the same, if not worse. 

“Y/N–” He shakes his head, not able to wrap everything around his head

“Shh…” Y/N doesn’t want this moment to end, although she knows it must. “We’ll talk later, I promise.” 

Harry frowns. He doesn’t want to give her the chance to change her mind and reject him. He wants her, simple as that. “But–”

“I promise I won’t change my mind. I’d tell you right now, but I wouldn’t let you go for the rest of the night if I did.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he confesses. 

Y/N chuckles and presses a final kiss to his lips. “I’ll be cheering you on, popstar.” 

Harry smirks, “dedicating tonight to you.”

“Menace.” 

The show is a beautiful success. Harry spots Y/N in the crowd tonight and spends too much time singing to her. Not that many fans pick up on it. He wouldn’t mind anyone finding out, but she’s all his right now. He runs off stage and straight into his dressing room. He’s got a car waiting for him, but he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to Y/N. His mom trails in, followed by Jeff and a few others. Harry keeps his door open to keep an eye on her. Harry packs up a few of his belongings, knowing he’ll return tomorrow for a final night. Harry is listening to Jeff drone on about tomorrow and the surprises he has planned when he catches sight of Y/N’s purple bow breezing by. He doesn’t even apologize to Jeff; he runs out after her. 

“Y/N!” He calls out.

Y/N stops and smiles. “Hi you! Nice job out there.” 

Harry blushes because, as confident as he was on stage dancing for her, there’s a difference between being dressed down and having his crush tell him he did amazing on stage. It means everything knowing she enjoys the shows each night. Harry loves seeing her sing on stage each night and is thankful he gets to enjoy it for a few more weeks. 

“I–I’ve got to get going but wanted to see you.” 

Y/N reaches up and cups his cheek. Harry leans into her touch, neither caring if someone spots them nor knowing they are in safe hands with the crew around them. “I hope you have a good night. I’ll see you here tomorrow, ready for one final show. I hear it’s going to be the best one yet.” 

“Is there something you want to see me play?” 

Y/N offers him a soft smile, shaking her head. “All I want is to see you happy on stage.” 

While the sentiment is appreciated, Harry knows her words will be on repeat as he falls asleep tonight. He wants to give her something special tomorrow. “I’ll find out your favorite song,” he promises. 

Y/N rolls her eyes. “H, I mean it. You being happy on stage is all I could ask for.”

Harry turns his head and kisses the palm of her hand. “I’ll figure it out, sweetheart.” 

She stares at him lovingly, knowing they both have to go and get a good night's rest. They’ll be apart for a few hours, and tomorrow, be back together to share a few more kisses. 

“Good night, you.” 

Harry leans in and kisses her cheek. “Night, sweetheart.” 

+

The final night at Wembley had arrived, and she was ready. Y/N knew Harry had most of his family and friends here, which made her slightly nervous because she knew he would want her to meet them but also knew most of them wouldn’t show up for lil ol’ her as an opener. Y/N, when she arrived at the arena, was separated from her band and found at Harry’s side. Harry selfishly wanted her to stay with him; he even sneaked them off to a hidden corner of the stadium, where he kissed her breathless. He promised only a few minutes, which turned out to be thirty. Y/N showed up to her soundcheck with bruised lips and a wide smile. The band decided to tease her later when Harry wasn’t around, seeing they also had lots of questions. 

“Yo–you look gorgeous,” Harry expressed as he walked into her dressing room and saw her dressed in a black maxi dress with embroidered flowers instead of her signature mini skirt. 

Y/N did a twirl for him, “you like? My mum found it at this shop we love to visit together. Altered it to perfection. The extra fabric she used for my bows,” Y/N points out. Harry admires her loose curls, a massive bow holding half up in a messy updo. She looked effortlessly beautiful. 

“It’s wonderful.”

“I got a wardrobe upgrade for the next few weeks. Leaving a lot at home and packing a ton of new outfits. Think it’s time to play dress up,” Y/N laughs, knowing she will have a fun time and lots of new looks to explore. 

“Can you dance in it?” 

Y/N smirks, “don’t worry, Felix made me practice shaking my ass already.”

“Oh darn,” he jokes. “Have a lovely show.”

Harry brings her in for a hug, and Y/N sags against him, loving the comfort he brings her. As she goes to pull away, Harry leans in for a kiss but waits for her permission; with a simple nod, he connects their lips and captures her heart. The kiss is perfect. It’s slow and gentle but filled with passion and yearning. Yearning for more time together, longing for all they have yet to explore. Harry backs away, his lips shining from her strawberry lip gloss. 

With a final wave, he’s gone, and Y/N takes the stage.

“Welcome to the final night of Wembley! Promise you’re in for a hell of a show. I-I’ve never been happier.” Y/N thinks back to minutes before she walked on stage and knows her words have never been more accurate. “Let’s dance!” 

The show passes in a breeze, and before she knows it, she’s reached the end of her set, having one final song left to perform. She never seems to feel time passing when she’s on stage. While Y/N loves playing for Harry’s fans, she’s excited to get back on the road for herself soon enough. 

“Wembley, Wembley. You are a beautiful crowd. I’ve got one last song for you.” The crowd cheers. “Ouch,” she feigns hurt, placing a hand over her heart. “I won’t take offense only because I’m also excited for Harry.” Y/N steps towards the stage with her microphone. “Thank you for receiving me with open arms, Wembley. I love performing and singing all my songs for you. I hope you come out to a show of mine in the future. It would be lovely to see familiar faces in the crowd. Before I continue, there are some people I need to thank. My mum Reina is in the crowd.” Y/N cheers when the crowd screams and chants for her mother. “She’s going to love that. There is someone special who is not here but has a special place in my heart and made me fall in love with singing: my Dad. While it feels like it has always been my mum and I, he’s never forgotten. My mom gave me all his records and always played music he loved. It led me to finding my dream and making it come true. Mumma, thank you for everything. I love you. Lastly, Harry Styles, it has been my greatest honor to join you on tour, but tonight, I feel extra thankful to be here with you. You’ve become a great inspiration throughout this tour, and I’m grateful for you.” 

Y/N wipes her tears, laughing to herself for getting emotional. One last song to sing. She looks at the sky and whispers, “this is for you, Pops.” When she finishes, Y/N blows kisses to the crowd and rushes off stage and straight into her mother’s waiting arms. 

“He would be so proud,” Reina whispers, making Y/N shed a few more tears. “I’m proud of you, my angel.” 

Y/N squeezes her mother tighter. “Thanks, Mumma.” After her mother finishes showering her in kisses, Y/N heads to her dressing room, wanting to change and shower, except when she walks in, she finds Harry reading her lyric journal. 

“Harry?” She looks at him, confused. 

He stands up quickly, setting the book down on the couch. “I-I didn’t mean to. But it was flipped open to 

‘Right Now’ it’s the song you played me on the piano. I still shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious. I–I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?” 

Y/N wishes he wasn’t so panicked. “It’s okay. I think you’ve heard all about these songs. Very comfortable with you reading it. Only June gets a kick at reading the notebook. Think she left it out.” 

Harry sighs. She opens her arms for him, and he falls right in. “You were wonderful! Love seeing you so happy,” he mutters. 

“Special crowd. Don’t know if it’s possible, but it feels like there's more people than the other nights,” she confesses. She wouldn't be surprised if that was the truth; fans sneaking into the pit are much more common when workers are distracted, even if they try their best. 

He laughs, “guess we’ll see, all I know is tonight will be special.”

Y/N enjoyed this downtime with Harry. While they knew a conversation was waiting to happen, they simply chose to enjoy this final night in London before continuing on the road for the next few weeks. Y/N knew how she felt, but this was not the time or place to have this discussion. It’s one she would be waiting for in the days to come.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Got a surprise for tonight.” Harry stole a kiss and backed away from her. Y/N could see a twinkle in his eye and knew he had found her favorite song. Y/N knows he went to her Mum. She was the only one who knew. While ‘Fine Line’ was special and he played it every night, she wondered if he would play it for her. 

Y/N doesn’t always watch the show in the audience; sometimes, she is side-stage dancing with Felix and playing air guitar. Then there are times they’re in the green room eating while watching Harry play through the TV in their room, but tonight, Y/N joins his family and watches from the right side of the stage. Anne said they’re close enough that he can spot them but not enough to distract him. For the last week here, Y/N had met most of his friends and family; there would even be a celebration at the end of the night where more people would attend. Y/N knew Harry would be the man of the hour and had decided she’d hang for an hour before heading home. While she selfishly wanted to monopolize all his time, Y/N knew she couldn’t. She’d see him on their flight to Wales in a few days.

“He’s got quite a big crush on you,” Gemma nudges her shoulder. “I would know I’m his older sister.” 

Y/N laughs, shaking her head. “Then I’ll have to take your word for it.” 

“My brother’s a shy guy. When he’s onstage, he shines so bright, but when he walks off, he’s back to being my shy brother who, for the life of me, is awful at starting conversations. He cares so much for everyone in his life. Once you’re in, you have a friend with him for life.” Gemma tells Y/N, and she knows it’s as much a welcoming as it is a warning. 

“I-I think he’s amazing. Fuck, I’ve kept a distance for a while only because I wasn’t certain if he was genuine. But repeatedly, he proves to go above and beyond for anyone. Being home puts many things in perspective for me,” Y/N sighs and offers Gemma a timid smile. “I’d be lucky to be given any relationship with Harry.” 

Gemma’s laugh rings loud, causing their mums to look over at them, but Gemma waves them off. Gemma links her arm with Y/N and declares them dance partners for the night. “You’re a good person, I can tell. And even if I couldn't, my mum could, she adores you already. Think she plays your music more than Harry.”

Y/N gasps in surprise, “please tell me Harry knows!” Gemma shakes her head. “Oh my gosh, he said I write sad music.” 

“Well, he writes horny pop songs,” Gemma chips in.

Y/N falls into a fit of giggles, “he does!” 

“You write rock mixed with sadness and a few pop influences.”

Y/N feels her face heat up, knowing Gemma is clearly a fan of her music. It always overwhelms her, but knowing that Gemma, Harry’s sister, enjoys her music is a big win for her. It brings her a lot of joy. Y/N always had an easy time conversing with people, but she feared making relationships and connections. It’s a reason her circle is tight-knit, but chatting with Gemma makes her hope that a new friendship could start here. 

The night is spent dancing and singing at the top of their lungs or as loud as Y/N knows she’s allowed without messing up her voice. After Mitch’s incredible solo for ‘She,’ Harry walked to the middle of the catwalk with the ladies of his band. It seemed as if every fan knew what song was coming as Y/N saw friends embrace each other. Y/N walked over to her mother, knowing her Mumma related a little too closely to the song. However, the familiar notes to ‘Matilda didn’t start; instead, it was a soft guitar intro. Reina pulled Y/N tight into her arms. This was the surprise Harry had mentioned. 

Harry finds his mum and sister hugging as he sings, but he keeps searching until his eyes land on Y/N, who is being embraced by her mother as she sings along to every word of “Sweet Creature” while Harry has no idea what this song means to her, she knows what it means to him and his sister. There are many ways to interpret his songs, and he’s glad Y/N connected with this one. He’s happy he could give Y/N and her mother this moment for it to become theirs.

It’s hard keeping his emotions under control for the entire show, but he does his best. He remembers to thank his family and promises Wembley he’ll see them soon. When Harry runs off the stage that night, he knows he left his heart out there for every single person. It’s something he knows he is going to get back with a lot more love-filled into it. 

There is a celebration that Jeff hosted for everyone wanting a perfect end to four sold-out nights in the city that changed his life and has now become his home. Harry sees his crew mingling. He sees Y/N’s band mixing with his band. It’s nice to see how connected everyone has become over the last few months. The person he is searching for is talking to Glenne. He sees them laughing, and as he makes his way over to them, he is intercepted by Ben, a long-time friend. Harry bounces around the room, converses with everyone, and occasionally drinks with them. Harry had managed to keep an eye on Y/N all night until he was saying goodbye to someone, and when he turned back, he could no longer spot Y/N. Harry knows he’ll see her soon and has her number to call her, but he really wanted to hear her thoughts about tonight’s show.

Harry pulls out his phone to call her when he finds a text from her. 

Y/N

Thank you for the surprise. Tonight truly was magical. 

Did you enjoy the rain? Think the heavens opened up from how emotional you made everyone. I’ll see you soon. Give me a call tomorrow. xx

He pockets his phone with a smile and knows what he has with Y/N is good, and he’ll do everything in his power to make her happy for a long time. 

+ 

In Wales, Y/N and Harry did not go a moment apart as if they had become each other’s shadows. Where one went, the other followed. No one questioned it because it was bound for something to happen, but what happened? No one knew. Y/N and Harry shared kisses behind closed doors, and it was theirs. It was the time to brush everything away and simply be together.

Belgium came much too soon, and there is something Harry has been meaning to ask. He’s lying on Y/N’s hotel bed, knowing they have a few days before their show, and Harry’s dying to take Y/N out on a date. 

“Sweetheart,” Harry calls out for her. 

“In a minute.” 

She walks out of the bathroom a minute later, her skincare finished for the night. They had arrived a few hours ago, and Harry quickly approached her. 

“Beautiful.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t stop her face from heating up at the compliment. “Sweet talker.”

“Only yours,” Harry sing-songs. 

She lies down with him. “Any big plans in Belgium, H?”

“A sold-out show,” he teases. 

“Well, obviously.” She plays with a loose thread on her shirt. “Meant sightseeing.”

Harry shrugs and scoots closer, reaching down to take her hand in his. “Not really sure. Thought sleeping would be a good start.” 

“Don’t be silly. You and Brad love an early morning workout.” 

Harry reaches out and pokes her nose, making her scrunch her face in surprise. “No need to be jealous. Early days with Brad mean free days with you, sweets.” 

He had a point. Y/N deflates because while Belgium is famously known for its waffles, she doesn’t want to explore alone. She also knows it is harder for Harry to simply be out. “It’s simply we have time to explore cities I’ve never visited before, and while I selfishly want to ask you to roam the city with me, I know it’s not possible.” 

“Hey,” he speaks softly. Her hand stays cradled to his chest, all his attention Y/N. His eyes say everything he hasn’t voiced yet. “We can walk around any city aimlessly. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” 

“Harry,” she breathes out. “You–”

“Why can’t I? Simply because others will look or because I’m this big name. Don’t I deserve the same respect as others to simply be.” 

“You do. Of course, you do.” 

“Then, don’t worry about anything else. I promise I will be there if you ask me to be somewhere or want to go to a chocolate-making class.” Harry’s words fill her with hope. Hope that whatever this is will turn into something more, something special.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I-I don’t want to go to a chocolate class.” 

Harry falls into a fit of giggles, leaning in close to press kisses to her cheeks, not caring that she tries to push him away because he knows she likes it, knows she craves his touch as much as he does hers. “Would you go on a date with me, Y/N?” 

Y/N freezes, not having expected him to ask her. She always kept it at the back of her mind, but now he’s here asking for more. “A date?” She repeats. “With me?”

Harry’s laugh rings loud, “you’re kind of who I’m asking.” 

She wants to blurt out yes, it’s on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back. Instead, he thinks about it for a second, wanting to make Harry sweat for a second. “I’d like that.” 

“Tomorrow? I can plan a whole day out for us.” 

Y/N breaks out a huge smile; dates usually last an hour or two, but she has Harry wanting to spend the entire day with her. She knows this is unconventional and that they have already spent so much time together that it will now only be outside the four walls of a hotel room.

“Tomorrow is perfect,” she agrees. 

Harry bids her goodnight and promises to be here at eight with a coffee for her to start the day. 

True to his word, the following morning, Harry is there with two cups of coffee and a paper bag. The smell of fresh bread reaches her, and Y/N knows this is a fantastic start. Harry leads them out of the hotel room and onto the street, promising walking would be better. 

Making it to their first destination, it’s a Botanical Garden, and Y/N practically shines with happiness. From the moment they walk in, they are met with blooming plants. They find out it’s pretty empty, not many people picking a garden for their first visit of the day. Y/N roams around, with Harry trailing close behind. She doesn’t realize Harry is taking photos of her every few minutes. Harry wanted to capture the entire day, and seeing her beauty through his eyes was something to behold.

“H, come on!” Y/N turns to him with a stretched-out hand, and he’d be a fool not to take it. They spend a few hours roaming around, stopping to take pictures and sitting on benches as they take in all the beauty, never letting go of each other’s hands. 

Y/N knew it was always easy with Harry, but she let every touch linger a bit longer in this new context of being on a date. Harry told her it was time for the next destination, and while she didn’t know what it was, she knew the day would only get better. 

“Did you know fries are actually Belgian and not French?” Harry tells Y/N as they share a small plate outside a shop. 

Y/N chews a fry, tilting her head, thinking his words over. “Weird to call them French.” 

It turns out Harry had no real plan for them besides the gardens, but was too worried to tell Y/N. She laughed and promised him she didn’t mind. Spending time with him was more than enough. Aimlessly walking is her favorite pastime when she’s in a new city, but doing it here with Harry, she knows it will never be the same again. 

They walked in and out of shops for the next few hours, laughing at shared stories and buying knickknacks for family members. Harry dragged Y/N into a chocolate shop, where the worker was kind enough to offer them samples. After buying too much, Y/N promised to share it with the crew. It was too good for them not to share.

After some time, Harry pulled Y/N to sit on a bench with him. It gave them a beautiful view of the sun that was beginning to set. They sat in silence for a while, comfortable enough to enjoy each other’s company without saying anything. 

“Did you know I once wrote a song about Rapunzel?”

“The princess?” Harry asks. 

“Mhm…I loved the film, and I thought Rapunzel had lost so much time being trapped that, being free, she didn’t know where to start. It was not my best.” 

Harry nudges her shoulder, “doubt that.” 

She shrugs, “who knows, maybe it was amazing, but I’ll never know, never thought to record it.” 

“What made you want to pursue music?” Harry asks. He has her hand in his lap, twisting the ring she wears on her pinky finger with her father’s initials. 

Her father comes to mind, “I was really young when we lost my dad. He loved music; he was the type to love it all, from Metal to pop to Spanish. He worked as a producer exclusively in London and with close artists, he had never wanted anything to take him from home. He loved my mum too much to ever want to part with her for long. My dad always had music playing. My mum said it was the first thing I reacted to when she was pregnant with me. By the time I was born, music lulled me to sleep and was the first thing I heard when I woke up. By the time we lost him, my Mumma played his records to keep his memory alive. She only bought new ones on his birthday and anniversary. I didn’t realize until I was much older that it also connected them.” Y/N pauses to send Harry a smile, and he answers by squeezing her hand. “My mum knew I had a good pair of lungs during my theater days and pushed me to pursue more if I wanted. I taught myself guitar and took piano lessons because I wanted to improve. It wasn’t always easy, but I loved learning, so it only motivated me. I wanted to share music because I wanted to connect with others and proudly say I’m doing that.” Y/N feels overwhelmed but is happy she shared this with Harry. She can’t remember the last time she was this honest with anyone. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” Harry kisses her cheek. “I-I love seeing you on stage. You radiate this energy that—” he shakes his head. “I don’t know how to describe it, but it makes you want to be part of it. I think you’re one of the most amazing songwriters we have in our generation.” 

“Harry,” she shakes her head to get him to stop, but it urges him on.

“I mean it. You’re incredible, and I’ll forever scream it from the rooftops if you want me to.” 

Y/N feels her face flush and turns to pull Harry in for a hug. She breathes him in for a long moment, “I–thank you.”

After the sunset, they walk back to their hotel. They linger outside Y/N’s door, not ready to say goodbye even after a long day together. 

“We–”

“I–”

“You first,” they reply in unison. 

Harry gestures for her to go first. 

“I was going to say if you want, we can freshen up and have dinner in my room, maybe watch a movie,” she asks nervously.

He nods eagerly, “yes, please.” 

“Good, good. Say an hour?” 

“Perfect.” 

Harry lets her open her hotel room, but before she can wave goodbye, he pushes her against the entrance and leans in to kiss her. Y/N sighs against his lips. She has wanted to do all this all day. His hands hold her waist firmly while Y/N fists his shirt to keep him close. 

Y/N pulls back to catch her breath, “been wanting to do that all day.” 

Harry smirks, “well, here’s another one.” 

His lips are soft, but the kiss is fast and needy. There has been a build-up to this moment all day. Y/N lets him guide her as he explores her mouth. She moans as he nips her bottom lip. Y/N pulls him closer, needing to feel him against her. She’s so lost in the kiss she jumps back in surprise when the door slams shut. Harry rests his forehead against hers, his breath heavy. “Maybe not the smartest thing we’ve done.” 

Y/N bites her lip, “probably not.” 

Harry thumbs at her bottom lip, and she releases it. “Please stop, or I’m going to kiss you again.” 

“I don’t mind,” she confesses. 

“Y/N,” Harry groans. “I’m going to go.” 

“But you’ll be back?” She asks softly. 

“In an hour,” he assures her. “Pick a movie for us.”

“Bye Harry.” 

Harry kisses her cheek, knowing that if he gets another taste of her, it will lead to more kissing, which they clearly do not want to rush. “Bye, sweetheart.”

Y/N shuts the door behind him, a large grin on her face. She’s falling hard, and she’s falling fast. 

+

“Vienna is probably one of the most beautiful songs ever created,” June tells Y/N, who’s lying on the floor of Harry’s stage. “The beauty of getting older.” 

“June, you hated that song when you were younger,” Quinn chimes in.

“Am I not allowed to change my opinion?” She yells. Quinn simply puts his hands up, deciding it is not worth defending. 

“City of Music is nothing I thought it would be,” Felix shares.

“What were you expecting?” Y/N asks curiously.

Felix laughs, “definitely fewer parks.” 

“Oi, is this what we pay you to do?” Harry shouts as he walks over to them dressed in blue jeans and a “Pleasing” sweater. 

“Y/N, save us, please!” They all collectively yell. 

Harry snickers at her, knowing they might not have told anyone about the dates they’ve been having in every city that usually end in one of them staying the night in the other’s room. It started off with neither of them wanting to say goodnight. Harry laid on her blankets while she tucked herself, holding hands; they dozed off to sleep. It was a no-brainer after that because they both enjoyed waking up to one another. Nothing goes on except a bit of kissing. She can’t say she hasn’t been craving something more but knows there is no need to rush her time with Harry. 

“It’s chisme time,” Y/N tells him. “Anything to share.” 

“I love Gossip.” Harry takes a seat next to Y/N, leaving not a single space between them. “Did you know we’re not having soup for lunch?” 

Everyone collectively groans, “banished, you’re no longer welcome,” Quinn shooed him away. 

“Hey now, I got a better one,” Harry leans in closer. He glances at Y/N before telling the others to get close, leaving Y/N out of their makeshift circle.

Y/N sits back, relaxed; with Harry, there is no need to worry about anything. June and Felix lean back, “Oh,” at the news while Quinn looks confused. He looks at Y/N, then back to Harry, then again to Y/N. 

“Lies. Not real. She doesn’t have the game,” Quinn says while looking at her. 

While Y/N has no idea what Harry whispered to them, June’s grin says it all. She knows it has to do with the dates they’ve been going on. Y/N had mentioned she liked Harry, but they all assumed she would do nothing about it.

“H, what did you do? It seems like they’re broken now.” Y/N points out to her two loudest bandmates, who have not said a single word, and Quinn, who has started to pace around on stage. 

Harry leans back on his arms as he takes in the scene before him. “Simply told them I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Had no idea you were keeping me as your dirty little secret.” 

Y/N quickly shakes her head, “no, never, it’s ju—” she cuts herself off, seeing that his dimples are on display and not an ounce of sadness or pain. “You’re annoying.”

“But you like me!” 

“Whatever.”

“You brushed of my question.”

“More like a statement,” she rebuttals. “Clearly not how you’re going to ask me.” 

Harry sends her a cheeky wink, “course not.” 

“Then you’ll have to wait for my answer until then. Now shoo, I’ve got to rehearse and answer all their dumb questions.” 

Harry kissed her cheek with a loud “muah” and promised to head to her room tonight. 

There was a sense of anxiety that had been with Y/N all day. Harry had made a bold statement tonight, and she wondered if he did it to give her the time to see if that was what she wanted. Harry was not like someone she had ever been with. She never had to speak on her emotions; she always went with the flow, but Harry is giving her the choice here. Y/N is nowhere near ready for the conversation, and it seems Harry knows because when he arrives in her room and sees the stress in her eyes, he takes her in his arms and tells her it’s time for bed. 

Harry takes a shower while Y/N changes into an old tour shirt and boxers. Harry enters the bedroom to find her lying in the middle of the king-sized bed. 

“You look adorable.” 

“Cute enough for cuddles?” 

Harry laughs, “always.” 

He makes his way to her after double-checking the lock on her door and ensuring his phone is off. He lifts the blankets and settles behind Y/N, his hands slipping under her shirt and pulling her towards him. Y/N sighs and melts against him. 

“There’s no pressure to have this conversation. I want you to know where I stand. I know I might not have gone about it the best way, but I want you to know you have as much control over this relationship as I do.”

With Harry’s reassuring words, Y/N felt at ease. She knew she was overthinking everything, but Harry understood her like no one else had.

“I like you, Harry,” she confessed. “I like you a lot. I-I-how you manage to always have the right words escapes me, but I’m thankful. I like you, and I like where this is going.”

Harry squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I like you too. Promise, I’m sticking around.” 

Y/N knows she’s lucky to have Harry. 

+

“¡Hola Barcelona! Yo me llamo Y/N, gracias por acompañarnos esta noche.” The crowd cheers after hearing her Spanish. “I know, right, pretty good. My grandpa taught me a living legend he still is. Think he’ll be proud. Let’s have some fun tonight.” 

Y/N, as soon as she gets off stage, feels a heaviness in her heart because, after tonight, there are only three shows left. It means not seeing her friends and the new friends she has made for a long time. Y/N is jumping straight into a tour in two months, meaning she’s got to start rehearsals in a month. While she doesn’t know what comes next, she does hope to finish her album before she heads out on tour. Harry had accompanied her to the studio, and even Mitch had tagged along, wanting to see her process. It led to them playing guitar in a few of her songs. These memories she’s made throughout this tour will live within her new album. 

Y/N didn’t know how much her life would change by accepting to be Harry’s opening act. She knows she should bask in the happiness while she can, but the reminder lingers in her mind. Y/N finds Harry and is not surprised to find him with Mitch. They’re speaking about Mitch’s album while Sarah is lying on the couch with her son, who’s napping. There has been so much to happen since this tour started, and Y/N never gets tired of hearing the stories. 

“Dinner?” Harry raises his head when he hears her voice. Mitch waves at her but doesn’t offer her a word; instead focuses on Sarah. 

Harry rushes over to her, wrapping her in a hug. “Promise I watched. Mitch stole me away quickly.”

Y/N laughs. Harry not watching didn’t even cross her mind. “You’re fine. Wouldn’t blame you, boring for you with the same ol’ setlist each night.”

“Hey now,” Harry defends. “That’s my favorite singer, you're insulting.” 

“Oh, Stevie Nicks is not going to like that,” Mitch comments.

“Wanker!” Harry gives Mitch the middle finger and guides them to get soup, Harry’s favorite food, before a show. It’s known to settle his nerves. 

“That’s okay, Hozier is mine,” Y/N chirps, sharing a laugh with Mitch.

“Irish tend to be superior,” Mitch agrees. 

Harry walks out with Y/N, sending Mitch a wave. Harry walked them to his green room, requesting his soup and Y/N’s sandwich to be sent. She told him she’d pick it up, but Harry shared he wanted a minute alone with her. Y/N hadn’t technically been with Harry long; it’s only been two weeks, give or take a few hours, but she’d known him for months. There was no need to talk as Y/N settled on the couch with him. She felt tired after her set, all the adrenaline gone. Harry asked her for dinner, and then she’d watch Harry from her dressing room with the rest of her band. The final days were approaching, and Y/N knew she’d prepare to say goodbye to them, too, even if it was for a few weeks. 

They settled in the silence, no need for conversation. Y/N was content to be wrapped in Harry’s arms as he closed his eyes, breathing her in. Y/N had not let herself think about the end of the tour because she wanted to enjoy every moment, and now, with the end so close, she honestly never pictured herself falling in love with Harry. She knows she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. She had him and would protect this relationship for as long as she was allowed to have him and even long after.  

After a successful show, Harry came to sleep in Y/N’s room with the promise he wanted to be close to her. Y/N was not one to deny him of any request, not when he kept her safe. Y/N woke up feeling too warm with Harry’s hand flat against her warm skin. He loved physical touch and kept his hold on her even in his sleep. Y/N shimmied behind him but stopped when she felt how hard he was. She knew it was normal, but a part of her wanted to take care of it and take the next step with him. 

“Baby, you got to stop moving,” Harry groaned in her ear. Y/N paused, thinking he might not be on the same page but as if he could read her mind, “unless you want me to take care of you.” 

Y/N stayed frozen because her mind was running wild on the possibilities that could happen. She had dreamed about Harry taking care of her, but now, making it happen, Y/N was at a loss for words. 

Harry turned Y/N, making her lay on her back, and he shifted above her with a gentle smile. “Morning, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” she breathed out. 

Y/N knew she didn’t look her best, with tired eyes and crazy hair, not even mentioning she hadn’t brushed her teeth, but by the way, Harry was gazing at her, it was clear he wasn’t thinking the same. 

“You’re beautiful. Thought you were a figment of my imagination, but here you are, spread out under me.”

She feels her face heat up, loving how warm his words make her feel. 

“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you whatever you ask for.” She knows he means it. He’s a giver. It’s what brings him the most joy. 

“Want you to touch me,” she spoke softly. 

Harry kneeled over her, careful not to let his entire body sit on her. He ran his fingers up her arm, biting back a smile at the goosebumps that raised over her body. Y/N’s breathing slowed down as her eyes never left his. “Where, baby?” 

Y/N shimmied, her face burning. She couldn’t, but she knew he’d continue to play with her if she didn't. His hands now tracing over her stomach and up to her breast. Y/N pushed against his hand, but he pulled away, tutting at her greediness. 

She didn’t have the words, but Y/N guided his hand, resting on her stomach to her wet pussy. Harry moaned when he felt how ready she was for him. “Here, baby. Need me here?” 

“Please, Harry. Need you to take care of me,” she begs. 

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Consent had never felt so sexy. 

“Yes, please, Harry.” 

“You’re not wearing panties.” 

Y/N has to hold back a laugh because she is begging him to make her come, and he is focused on her having no panties. “I run hot, you know that.” 

He glided his fingers around her pussy, spreading around her wetness. She let out a needy moan when he slid his fingers inside her. The feel of her clenching around his fingers made him eager to add another. Harry loved seeing her like this. It made him want to give her everything. In and out, he moved his fingers inside her, rubbing and stroking her swollen lips. She laid their legs spread out, head back, taking it all. Harry knew she was close, but he was greedy for a taste. 

Harry lowered his mouth to her stomach, pushing her shirt up, allowing him to kiss her breasts before continuing down the path calling for him. He kissed along her thighs, and Y/N felt her breathing slow down. He continued with his slow kisses along her hips up to her belly and back down again. Sliding his hands under her ass, he pulled her closer.

“Oh baby, I need to taste you.” His warm breath tickled my skin as he lowered his mouth and bit into the inside of her thigh. Y/N let out a loud moan, urging him to continue. He kissed her repeatedly, knowing it would bruise. He was glad to mark her his. 

Y/N let out a soft cry as his tongue licked up her thigh. She needed everything as he moved closer to where she was ready for him. He slowly dragged his tongue through her folds. 

Fuck. 

“Harry, Harry,” she chanted his name. 

Y/N could only beg for more as Harry muttered something about how delicious she tasted. As he licked into her, he slid one finger into her as his thumb rubbed against her clit. In seconds, Y/N was lifting to meet each thrust of his finger. 

“You sound so beautiful with my name on your lips,” he dived back in. “Want me to make you mine?” 

“Yes,” Y/N moaned. “All yours. Only yours.” 

Y/N was writhing and wiggling anything to keep him pressed against her clit as his tongue thrust inside her. Everything was on fire; every nerve in her body was firing off. He slipped another finger, and Y/N exploded. It all became so much, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as she felt her orgasm rip through her. Y/N felt Harry slow down, lazily moving away from her, with no apparent rush in wanting to leave her. Harry slowly sits up; she sees hooded eyes, her eyes focused on the mess she’d made on his face. Harry raised his hand and slipped his wet fingers in his mouth, cleaning the last of her juices. Y/N knows they’d get going for a second round if he's not careful. 

“Let me kiss you,” she begged, her voice rough.

Harry ran a tongue over his lips, making a show of cleaning her off him, “not ready to share yet.” 

“Nasty,” she chastised before she leaned up, placing her hand on the back of his neck and pulling him for a heated kiss. “Will you come for me, Harry?” She mumbled against his lips. 

She pushed away, removing her shirt, throwing it to the side, and lying back, allowing him the view of her breasts, her nipples hard as she begged him to come. Harry slid down his briefs, and Y/N gasped at how beautiful he looked hard and thick because of her. Y/N reached for him, but Harry shook his head, a clear sign this would be quick. Harry wet his hand, moving it steadily up and down his base. Y/N was mesmerized. She played with her tits as he stroked himself, knowing he loved the show. 

“Come for me, Harry,” she purred. “Show me how good I helped make you feel. Show me how much you loved making me come. The feel of your tongue is something I never want to forget. How well you take care of me.”

“Fuck, baby. Didn’t know you could be so dirty.” 

“Promise to take you down my throat next time. Let you use me any way you want. Please, Harry, come for me.” 

That was all he needed for him to come on her skin. 

“You’re a dirty girl,” he comments.

Y/N winks, “only for you.” 

As they settled down from the high, Harry cleaned her up with an old shirt of his. They stayed cuddled on the large bed, sitting in silence. There was so much said between them, but they both knew they meant every word. It would be only up from here, even if only a few days were left. 

+

Y/N has enjoyed meeting new people, but this tour introduced her to new friends. Harry’s band is lovely and quite large; he has his main band, but during the disco medley, as he likes to call it, he brings out the horns. She found herself overtime making her way to their dressing room, watching them get ready for the night. Throughout her time on the tour, she earned her spot in their room as she watched them get ready before her set or after. 

Tonight was no different. Y/N was talking with Lorren and Parris about their plans after the tour. They shared they had shows lined up, but a break was the first thing they were looking forward to, and Y/N had to agree.

“Lorren, can I ask you something?” 

Lorren turned to Y/N with a bright smile, “well, of course.”

“Well, I was wondering if you could add stars to my face. Quite good at my eyeliner but shit at anything else,” Y/N confessed. 

Lorren looked thrilled. “Yes, please, yes. Thank you for asking.” Lorren stood up from her chair, giving it a pat for Y/N to make her way over. Lorren complimented Y/N’s skin and makeup, stating it was flawless. Y/N thought it better be she was religious with her skincare. She learned over time less was more and stuck with it. Sometimes, not even Y/N could escape her eyebags when she worked too long in the studio. 

She sat perfectly still for Lorren, continuing to talk to Kalia about her new musical release. It was something everyone had been waiting for; they were all incredibly proud. They segway to talking about Pauli, who, thanks to him, had brought them all on from the North America tour to right here in Lisbon and a final show in Italy. 

Y/N soon felt the room fall quiet. She got lost in her thoughts when a shutter made her snap her eyes open. It was only Georgia, her photographer, taking photos. “Scared me, Georgie.” 

Georgie laughed, “sorry, but you did tell me to capture everything.” 

Y/N wondered what she meant by that; before she could ask, Lorren declared her finished. She looked in the mirror and gasped at how perfectly they blended with the purple eyeshadow she used today. Y/N noticed Lorren added glitter to give it that extra glimmer. 

She hugged Lorren, thanking her over and over again. She would have continued if Georgie didn’t remind her she had to change. Y/N wished the room luck and rushed to her dressing room, where her outfit was laid out. 

One final look in the mirror, and Y/N’s ready to go. She walks out, happy to find Zahara, who came to celebrate the end of tour with her. “You made it!” Y/N cheers. 

Zahara wraps her in a hug. “No thanks to stupid United. Canceled my flight twice.”

Y/N winces, “don’t even want to imagine the conversation you had.” 

“It was not pretty,” Zahara shares. 

Y/N stands side stage with Zahara, chatting while Ash helps secure her mic pack while Zahara makes her promise not to do anything she wouldn’t do. Zahara doesn’t even know what she’s asking of her, especially because she has no idea who Y/N has been kissing behind closed doors. 

She rushes on stage; her signature mini skirt is back tonight, paired with a baby tee Harry ordered for her. It’s black and has bedazzled constellations all around, a big reason she asked Lorren for stars on her face. Y/N spent a large portion of her morning with Harry, thanking him for the gift. 

Harry watches Y/N sing her heart out to the crowd. This song Harry knows Y/N wrote when she was going through a bad breakup. While it hurts him to think about her with anyone else, he also knows he’s started to write endless songs about her and knows she’s done the same. Zahara greets him courtly, and he wonders if she knows. 

“Listen, Harry.” He steps closer, but Zahara never looks at him. “If you do anything–and I mean anything to smear her image, I’ll make you regret it. This girl has fought tooth and nail to be where she is.” Harry sees the fire in her eyes. “Y/N doesn’t open up easily, and I know you wormed your way in. You’re a good guy, but even a good person can break a heart. You know what it’s like to be talked about.”

Harry knows first hand how ruthless the media is. “I would never want that for her.” 

Zahara sighs, “I know. She’s special, and I think she’s proved that even more because of this opportunity you gave her.” 

“I-I- didn’t expect to fall for her,” Harry defends because he hadn’t, but one conversation with her, and there was no stopping it.

“She’s got that charm,” Zahara laughs. “Look at me here to watch her finish a tour when I’ve got so much to do. You’d do anything knowing you put that smile on her face.” 

Harry knows Zahara is right and goes back to watching Y/N. He can’t help it when he takes out his phone to record her because he wants to remember these moments of her on stage. He knows her setlist by heart and knows she’s got three songs left. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shoot a wink towards Zahara, and then they watch her jump off the stage. She makes it look effortless, but he’s worried and moves forward to try to stop her. Zahara shoots her arm out to stop him. “Slow down, rockstar. She’s got this.” 

“You’re okay with this?” 

“Oh, I’m furious,” she confesses, “but she did it with me in the audience, knowing I’d keep her safe.” 

Y/N walks through the barricade, serenading fans and security in front and behind her. It’s the only thing that brings him a bit of comfort. The cameras follow her around, showing her on the large screen, making him laugh because he can see how much she enjoys it. She walks the entire catwalk, hugging fans who are clearly there for her as much as they are for him. She reads a few signs, and by the time she returns to the stage, she has friendship bracelets lining her wrist, a shirt on her shoulder, and two bouquets of flowers. Y/N laughs in their direction, clearly noting the disbelief on both their faces. Y/N continues the show, giving 100% energy until she sings her final note.

She hurries off straight into Zahara’s open arms. While he can’t hear what Zahara is whispering to Y/N, he knows it has to be about him for her face to look flushed and not from her hour-long performance. Zahara pushed her towards Harry, who was waiting for his turn. Y/N settles in his embrace as he kisses her head repeatedly. “You’re mental, absolutely insane.” 

Y/N giggles against his chest, “how rude.” 

Harry puts his hands on her cheeks, pulling her back the slightest bit to get her to look at him. “You were brilliant! A shining star, you have the crowd in the palm of your hand.” Y/N’s smile shines at his words. 

“You’ve got lovely fans. They make it easy.” 

He holds back from kissing her but promises to see her later. 

Y/N watches him go, not caring that Zahara and the band will tease her endlessly for it. She doesn’t mind one bit. 

+

“I’ve been on tour with one of my favorite artists, Y/N Y/LN.” Harry lets the crowd cheer for her, knowing Y/N is waiting for him to call her onstage. “She’s got amazing songs, and lucky for you all, I asked her to sing a song with me for you all. So everyone welcome Y/N to the stage.” In her outfit from earlier, Y/N walks out, guitar strapped to her chest, waving to the fans. She sees hundreds of phones in the air as she stands at her mic stand. They had rehearsed today, with Harry promising he was ready. He seemed to know the entire song by heart and had his band learn it. “Let’s go!” 

Y/N never imagined being on stage singing her dirtiest song with Harry to a sold-out stadium. Y/N can’t seem to look away from him; it has her bringing out all her sensual dance moves when she plays this song. It’s a reason she cut it from her setlist tonight to play it specifically with him. When it comes to an end, Y/N turns to the Love band, giving them a round of applause. 

“How about one more?” Harry asks Y/N into the microphone. 

She smirks, “I'd be honored.” 

Y/N hands off her guitar to Chloe, waiting to pack it away for her. Then, he prances back over as Harry begins ‘Daylight.’ Y/N had always enjoyed this song, the sweetness packed in the lyrics. It's a song about a lover coming and going. While they’re home, he’s happy and full of joy, but once they’re gone, the mood falls, and he’s left missing them. It’s a feeling she’s familiar with, and she knows that Harry has lost a person due to being away for so long. It does make her think about her finished album and how it was influenced by everyone around her, romantical or not. 

As she comes over to sing into Harry’s mic, not minding the closeness, the cheers get louder as they stay together. She feels Harry’s eyes burning into the side of her head, and she dances away, letting him continue. When it’s her turn again, she returns to his mic, looking straight at him. She smirks, singing his lyrics. She sees his eyes darken and knows she’s in for a fun night.

Once the song ends, Harry lets the crowd give Y/N a long applause. Harry pulls her in for a tight hug, “thank you for doing this with me.” 

Y/N gives him a light kiss on the cheek, thankful her face is hidden from the crowd, “thank you for inviting me.” 

“I don’t want to let you go.”

Y/N laughs because she feels the same way. “Promise, I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. Go have fun, rockstar.” 

She runs off stage straight into June’s teasing arms. Y/N doesn’t even mind not when her thoughts are running wild watching Harry continue with the show. 

“Babes, we’ve got to spend the show down there,” Felix begs, pointing to the crowd of fans leaning against the barrier.

Y/N’s eyes widen, “in the pit?”

They nod. Y/N knows they won’t stop until they do, so she compromises with them. They’ll go in between the catwalk and barricade for the last songs.

“I’m down,” Quinn quickly says.

“Can you get Harry to wet us?” June asks seriously. 

Dear God. What is she going to do with them?

Once they’re down watching Harry prance around, he changes it up and plays a surprise song that makes them all lose their mind. Followed by screaming their lungs to ‘As It Was,’ nothing better than yelling “Leave America” with a sold-out crowd. By the time Kiwi rolls around, Harry has spotted them and jokes for Y/N to give him her number. There are many oohs in response, but Y/N sends him a wink. The band got what they wished for, and Harry gave them a good splash, one Y/N avoided by hiding under Quinn’s jacket. Harry is about to do his signature exit when he freezes and spots the cup of beer in her hand. She offers it to him as a joke but complies when he signals for her to pass it over. He mouths, “thank you, baby,” and the next thing she knows, he’s doing the whale with her beer. Fuck, if she didn’t want to get him naked now more than ever, as she saw the beer run down his neck and bare chest.

“Fuck me, I’m glad one of us is fucking him,” June mutters to her. 

Y/N doesn’t bother correcting her friend. As her friends walk her back, she’s lost in her head because she enjoys being with Harry. Y/N knows she took her time discovering her feelings and allowing herself to fall for Harry; now that she has, it’s all-consuming. She is filled with so much safety and love; she’s used to being overwhelmed, but Harry makes her feel at peace. Having these conversations about what they are to each other is stupid, but she knows she owes it to Harry to tell him how she’s feeling. 

She walks to his dressing room to find him changed and has his bag swung on his shoulder, meaning he’s leaving. “Heading out?” 

He turns his head when he hears her voice. “Yeah, beat traffic.”

Y/N nods and stays quiet. She knows she’ll see him back at the hotel but feels like this can’t wait. 

“Harry, I—”

“H, we got to go,” Jeff interrupts, rushing in behind her. 

Harry frowns but doesn’t argue. He stands in front of her, reaching for her hand. He intertwines her fingers between his and pulls her along with him. “Come with me,” he begs. 

Y/N begins to tell him she can’t when Quinn swings her bag at her, telling her she’s good to go. Harry gives her a deadpan stare, waiting for her to try to provide him with a reason why she can’t, but decides to give in. “Lead the way, H.” 

The car ride to their hotel is quiet. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder as Harry comes down from the night's adrenaline. Her hand rests on his lap. She knows they will leave for Italy tomorrow. While excited for the last show, she’s sad it’s all ending. Y/N and Harry walk in together through a private entrance and say goodnight to Jeff as they head into Harry’s room. Her stuff never made it to her room, and it won’t in Italy either. 

Harry heads to the shower while Y/N heads to the sink to remove all her makeup. This all feels domestic to her, doing this routine with Harry as if they’ve done it for years. 

“You taking my beer was pretty bold,” Y/N comments when she hears the water shut off. 

He dries off before exiting. She sees a towel wrapped around his waist and laughs when she sees it fits him a bit too small. “Thought you were offering it.” 

“Ever heard of a cheers,” she teases. 

Harry kisses her cheek and promises to warm her side of the bed. While Y//N showers and does her skincare, she thinks of what she will say to Harry. Her mind is going crazy, and she wants to get it in order before she just spills it all to him.

“Baby, you coming?” 

Y/N replies to give her a second. She finds Harry sitting in bed, his book on his lap and the blanket untucked, waiting for her to settle in. Y/N kneels on the covers facing Harry, knowing she has to get the words out tonight.

“Need to tell you something,” she breathes out. 

Harry looks at her concerned but gives her his undivided attention. “Course, love.” 

“I-I like you. I know I’ve said that, but I like waking up with you. I love going on dates with you. Holding hands brings the biggest smile to my face. Your hugs bring me so much love and safety. I enjoy having conversations about everything and nothing, but I also love sitting in silence with you.”

“Y/N,” Harry begins, but she shakes her head. He reaches for her hand and holds it tight. 

“I feel like it’s so soon to say these words, but I hope you feel it in every action and touch. I’m head over heels for you, Harry. I-I know I made you wait; I had to figure out my feelings, but I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you. Will you be my boyfriend?” Y/N asks. Once those words are out, she sinks her face in her hands. “God, that’s so fucking cheesy.”

“Hey, hey,” she hears Harry moving, then feels his hands pulling her hands away. He’s careful not to pressure her but lets him see her. “There’s my pretty girl.”

Y/N shakes her head; she really said all that.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I appreciate it. I like knowing where you stand. Do you want to know how I feel?” Y/N nods her head. “Well, love. I’m crazy about you, too. I like sitting with you and watching you play the piano. I love trading books we’ve finished reading because yours always have different annotations for me to find. I like seeing you watching me perform. I love watching you perform for an audience, and I can’t wait to see a show soon where the entire audience is there for you. I’m falling in love, and I know you’ll be there to catch me.” 

She feels her eyes well up with tears because Y/N has never been good at expressing her emotions, but with Harry, she’d conquer every fear to make sure she can make him feel loved and seen. She presses her lips against his and melts against the familiar taste. With a soft moan, she shifted close as his mouth opened over hers, and his tongue slid between her lips. She might have initiated the kiss, but Harry seems to be the one who always takes control. She was always okay with that. She tilted her head so he could kiss her more deeply. He didn’t need more encouragement. The kiss became intense; heat flashed through her, making her thighs clench, and while she would love to take this further, she knew they needed to rest. 

His hands trailed up her nightshirt, and she broke away to let out a loud moan when she felt him squeeze her ass. “H-h-harry, not tonight,” she managed to make out. 

Harry slows his hands, bringing them back to her waist. “But we can kiss,” he asks against her lips. 

“All night if you want.” 

“Don’t tempt me,” he teases.

Harry pats her ass and helps her get under the covers. Y/N laughs when he turns her to be facing him. He wedges himself between her legs to be close; there’s no way of knowing where she begins, and he ends. 

It’s a perfect night. 

+

Italy has always been perfect to Y/N, from the people to the food to the views. While Y/N knows enough Italian to get around and understand it, Harry is basically fluent. He’d been practicing his speech all morning. His only break was to give Y/N one last wake-up call that had her screaming his name. 

Y/N and Harry spent a few days roaming Italy together. They were officially a couple and were enjoying it. Harry kissed her every chance he could get. Y/N always had a hold of Harry, whether it be his hand or at the small of his back. It’s clear everyone knows they’re together, not that they made an announcement but because they are always spending time together. Where one goes, the other follows. 

June, Quinn, Felix, and Y/N sit together in the green room, discussing their favorite moments from the tour. Quinn said in Amsterdam, some strangers let him join their bar hopping. He ended up finding he could not hold his liquor like they could. Felix shared it was playing at Slane Castle. They heard stories of never thinking it would be them on that stage. June made them all cry by stating that every moment on stage with them was special to her. June is going on a break after this, needing to go home and be with her family, while Y/N accepted that she would miss her best friend. Y/N shared it was exploring new studios while writing her new album. 

“You have to play it for us soon!” Felix expresses. 

Y/N nudges her friend, “who else would I show first?” 

Quinn nudges her. “Someone named Harry.” 

“Promise it’s almost done. Think I’m just missing an album name,” she shares, knowing she finished recording most songs. 

Before the band can start throwing names at her, there’s a knock on the door, and Harry comes in with the Love band, all holding something behind their back. June narrows her eyes at Harry, not one for surprises, but Y/N knows this will be good. 

“Y/N and band, thank you for joining us on an amazing, successful tour this year. I enjoyed listening to you every night,” Harry tells them honestly. Everyone echoes his words. “That being said, we got you a gift.”

They were all presented with a bag, and June and Quinn were quick to rip into it while Felix made sure not to make a mess. Y/N held the gift close to her chest but watched her friends open their presents first. June held a black sweater to her chest. It had her name embroidered on one side and Love on tour on the other. “Shit, we get some too!” June exclaims. “I was so jealous of y’all.” 

Quinn pulls out a pair of shoes, “satellite stompers,” to be exact. His smile is wide, and he quickly bounces over to pull Harry in for a hug. “Thanks, man.” 

Y/N doesn’t open hers because she was the one to give Harry their sizes, so she’s not expecting anything else. 

June turns to Y/N, pointing a finger, “how did he know our sizes?” Y/N grins while June gasps accusingly. “I bitched and moaned about not having one. Is this a pity gift?” 

Harry quickly assures her he wanted to give them to all of them in private. Everyone in the crew got some; he meant everyone from the band to Y/N’s photographer. Every person was necessary on this tour, and Harry wanted to make it known with a gift. Harry stepped close to Y/N and gestured for her to open hers. She gives him a suspicious look but does as he asks. She removes the jacket quickly, slipping it on when she spots a bow at the bottom. Y/N looks at him surprised because when she pulls it out, she sees it’s one she had shown him a few weeks ago. It’s an intricate bow with wildflowers embroidered on it. It has unique beading to create this delicate bow.

“The meadow bow,” she whispers, delicately touching the ends.

Harry’s cheeks warm when he sees her expression. Y/N blinks away her tears because it’s unreasonable to cry, but the fact that Harry listened to her when she went on about something as silly as her bows and ribbons. Y/N doesn’t think about what she’s about to do; she only knows she wants to thank Harry. Y/N hugs Harry, but she pulls away quickly, connecting their lips in a kiss. Harry is frozen for a second but promptly responds, both easily sinking into each other. The hollers and cheers make her break away, leaning her head on his chest.

“Sorry, H,” she sighs. 

“Don’t mind. Think you should do it again.”

“Not again,” June yells. “You cute together, but I don’t want to see that.”

Harry promises to let them get ready. 

“Will you be watching?” Quinn asks. 

Harry nods, “we wouldn’t miss it.” 

“The entire family is watching,” Gemma chimes in. Harry gasped, not knowing she had arrived. 

“Gems!” Harry rushes over to scoop his older sister in a hug. Y/N knows when Gemma says the entire family, she means it. They all promised to sing their hearts out for him. Y/N had met most of them during the few shows in Wembley, but she was merely an opener, and now she is Harry’s girlfriend.

“Come on, Y/N. Mum wants to say hello,” Gemma calls for her as she drags Harry out. Y/N promises not to be long, but the band brushes her off, telling her they already have good company. 

Y/N has the best time with Harry and his family. They share laughs about young Harry being nervous to sing in front of a crowd and now ending a tour with over 90,000 people. Anne can’t stop her tears, which makes Harry emotional, too. He stays cuddled at her side. Anne asks Y/N about her tour, and Y/N invites them to opening night. “Don’t know if you’d be able to make it, but it’d be lovely to have you there. My mum and a few cousins are attending.”

Anne reaches over Harry to squeeze her hand, promising to be there. “Course we’ll come. Your mum is lovely. Can’t wait to catch up.” 

Starting off a tour in London was the right choice for her because she wants to be in her own bed before she sleeps in a different one each night again. Y/N excused herself, needing to prepare for one final Love on Tour show. 

Y/N huddled her band before going on stage. “You are my favorite people. I feel so lucky to do this with you every night. One last night with June, let’s make it unforgettable.” 

“I love you,” Felix shouts. They laugh, squeezing each other tight, echoing the words to each other. And with that, Y/N and the band take the stage one final time. 

“Italy, you have been an absolute dream. Each night, every crowd welcomed us with open arms, and when you sing back my lyrics, that is something I will never forget. I couldn’t do it alone, though. My amazing, amazing band. Felix, June, and Quinn are my family. Without them, I would not be where I am, and I will never forget that. June is actually taking a break after this tour. She’s going away, but she’ll be back. The spot is open if Sarah Jones is looking for a job.” The crowd laughs while June shakes her head in disbelief but also knows Y/N would never pass up a chance to work with someone at the caliber that Sarah Jones is at. “Most importantly, thank you to Harry Styles for inviting me out on tour. It’s the best choice I could have ever made. You have shown me kindness from the first moment we met. Thank you for allowing me to use your stage each night, but most importantly, thank you for showing me how music inspires you to do good and always do better. This last song is dedicated to you, H.” 

Y/N hurries off stage after playing “The Last Man on Earth” and runs straight to the dressing room, where she cries into June’s shoulder. This tour has her saying goodbye to her best friends but opening new opportunities because she knows there is a conversation she’s been dodging for some time now and knowing Harry today won’t end until he gets his way. 

“That was beautiful. Every night, honestly.” Y/N steps away from June, wipes away her tears and is thankful she decided not to do her eyeliner tonight, or she’d look worse than she feels. Harry had come to see them all but mostly knew his girlfriend would need a bit of comfort. 

“Harry, my man. Thank you,” Quinn answers, pulling him into a hug. Everyone does the same, but Y/N stands frozen. It seems everyone can pick up on the tension and give her a moment alone with him. 

Harry hurries over and takes her in his arms. Y/N relaxes in his hold because he’s always had that calming effect on her. “You were wonderful. Had me in tears.” 

Y/N giggles against his chest, “stop it.” 

“Seriously,” he laughs, and Y/N feels it go through her. “Jeff was recording me, laughing at my tears.” 

“Thank you, H. I know you said you’d watch, but knowing you were in the crowd made tonight even more special.” 

Harry kisses the top of her head. “It was all you. Don’t know how I will survive without seeing you every day.”

“You can follow me on tour,” Y/N offers. 

“Now that’s a thought.” 

They settle in silence, neither one having anything to say. Simply enjoying their time together. Y/N doesn’t know how much time passes, but she knows he’s got to get dressed. 

“I really like you, Y/N,” Harry whispers into the quiet of the room.

“Harry,” Y/N pulls back to look at him. Those emerald eyes are full of love, and Y/N knows it for her. She has to let herself be happy, and it’s clear Harry is a big part of bringing that joy to her life. 

“I like you,” he repeats. “And I’ll keep liking you tomorrow and every day that is to come. I’m letting you know how I feel. We’ve discussed it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t remind you. Will forever be crazy about you.” 

“I’m crazy about you, too,” Y/N breathes out. “You fill me with so much happiness.” 

Harry smirks, “enough to join me on holiday for a few more days?”

She looks at him, confused. 

“My family and a few friends are spending time in my home here. If you’d like to join us–join me,” he offers timidly.

“You mean it?” 

Harry nods, “nothing better than you in a bikini,” he teases. 

She slaps his shoulder, “I’m there.”

“Good.” 

Harry kisses Y/N. She is quick to soften beneath him and eagerly reciprocates the kiss. Y/N loves his touch, and with each kiss, she feels herself heat up and knows where this could lead, but there is just no time. “Harry,” she mutters against him. “You’ve got to get ready.” 

He sighs against her, “one more.”

Y/N happily agrees.

+

Y/N can’t stop her hands from shaking. She’s done everything she could think of, from doing math problems in her head to focusing on her breathing, yet nothing is working as she waits for Harry to introduce her.

“I don’t know if many of you know, but I personally requested for Y/N to join us on tour. I didn’t know if she would be available, but my manager told me to have hope, and here we are now. I-I-honestly know she’s one of our generation's best writers and singers. I feel fortunate to have shared this time with her. Something none of you know is that Y/N loves playing my piano. She’s written a lot of her second album on it. So I thought it would be fitting to bring it out and sing with her. Everyone, please welcome Y/N!” 

She walks out from behind the stage. Y/N waves at the crowd she had greeted an hour earlier. Y/N feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with; it was something she told the crowd. 

“Feel special. Y/N is the definition of calm and collected,” Harry teases. “Now, this is Y/N’s song, and I thought maybe you’d want to hear a bit.”

“It’s called ‘Right Now’. I hope you enjoy.” They had planned this: Harry would play the keys, and Y/N would sing, but for some reason, her nerves were getting the best of her, and Harry started the song for her. Hearing Harry sing her lyrics comforted her because he genuinely enjoyed her music. Her voice blended in with Harry’s before it was her all alone. Y/N stayed on the bench with Harry, feeling too vulnerable to go out to the crowd. It was insane debuting a song to a crowd that maybe wouldn’t relate to her words, but she sang with every emotion she could pour out for the odd chance that someone did. Y/N felt Harry’s eyes on her and turned to smile at him. Thanks to Harry, she finished this album and finished this song. These songs weren’t written about him; they have him intertwined in the stories she’ll share about this album. 

Before she knows it, she’s singing the final lyric, and Harry plays the last note. “Everyone, Y/N!” The applause is thunderous, making Y/N tear up. She tries to imprint this moment in her mind because she never wants to forget it. Harry walks her off as the piano is taken away, though none of the fans know it will return by the night's end. Harry leaves her backstage, wiping away the few tears that escaped her. 

“Thank you, that was beautiful,” he kissed her cheek.

He goes to walk away, but Y/N pulls him back in by his vest and kisses him. One of his hands moved to the back of her neck, holding her to him as he devoured her mouth. “I’m so lucky to have you,” she breathes out. 

Harry is tempted to kiss her again, but he knows if he does, he’ll get lost in her and can’t do that when he has a show to return to. “It’s me. I’m the lucky one. ” He runs back, asking the crowd if they’re ready to do some dancing. The cheers are enough for him to continue on.

The show goes on, and Y/N has the time of her life. She goes out after her song to dance and sing with his family in the crowd. Harry finds them all easily, but the tears don’t stop when he takes his time to thank his mum and sister. To thank his friends who have been there from the start, Y/N knows he’s including her in the thank you’s because he reminds her time and time again that she changed his life in a way he never expected. 

Y/N knew about the ballad he would be playing on the piano. It’s something they worked on together, but something she didn’t expect was the quietness of the crowd. There is no sound except a few people crying as this lovely melody fills the area. 

Harry walks off the stage in tears, and the band soon follows. Y/N knew she’d be emotional, but she can’t seem to stop crying. She walks hand in hand with June backstage, where she sees Harry hugging his mother and moving on to his sister. They all huddle in Harry’s dressing room as they erupt in cheers, celebrating the end of the tour. Y/N knows she’ll find a minute with him alone but, for now observes Harry being showered in the love he deserves. The room slowly began to filter out, giving Harry a moment to shower and change out of his clothes, but before she could leave, she felt someone grab her wrist, and the door shut behind her. Harry stood in front of her dimpled smile on his face. His emerald eyes were shining bright. 

Happiness looked good on him. 

“Congrats on a successful tour, Harry!” Y/N wrapped him in a hug, aware of his bare chest. 

His arms held her tight as he swayed her side to side. “Thank you for writing that song with me.” 

“Our first of many,” she promises. 

Harry breathes her in, letting them stand in silence, soaking in the moment. This is a day they both would look back at fondly. It’s a story they’ll tell their future children.  

“Thank you for bringing love to me,” Harry whispers. He loved touring and, at times, found it lonely, but ever since Y/N joined, it’s like he found his missing half. He never felt alone because he knew she was always close by. 

Y/N shakes her head, “think it was all you.”

Harry ponders for a second. He was the one with the idea to bring her on as a tour opener. “Think it was.”

He connects his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss. She feels him grin against her as he pushes her against the door. His hands roam her back before resting on her waist while hers find a home in his hair. Y/N had been craving him since he kissed her halfway through his show. She kissed him, hoping her mouth said everything she hadn’t spoken aloud. 

Y/N knows this is the next part of her story. It’s not ending or starting; she’s simply turning the page to create a new chapter. Y/N has no idea where she’ll be in one year, let alone five, but one thing she does know for certain is that she loves Harry. 

+

thank you for reading 💜💜💜 please feel free to send me a message of what you loved from the story

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Time to go degenerate. Can i have yae’s s/o dealing with her during heat. But s/o is too innocent to know what heat is

(Genshin Impact) Yae's innocent S/O dealing with her in heat

Fun Fact(?): Apparently foxes go into heat around June-July, so I guess this is a fitting ask.

Mild NSF-W Implications below the cut!

When S/O first came into Yae's room, they immediately rushed to her side seeing sweat come down her forehead, accompanied by heavy breathing.

(S/O) "Miko! Are you okay!?"

She was surprised by their presence, blinking twice before attempting to mask whatever she was feeling by smiling.

(Yae) "Ah, hello little one. It's...n-nothing you should concern yourself with-"

Yae felt S/O's hand against her forehead which made her flinch for a second, though S/O didn't notice that.

(S/O) "Archons, you're burning up! You should take a rest and-"

Before they could lift their palm, Yae grabbed their wrist and kept it there, closing her eyes.

(Yae) "S/O, I'm not sick...Oh dear, how to explain this..."

While she was definitely amused by S/O's innocence 90% of the time, there were also times she wanted to bash her head against the wall due to how dense they were.

It depended on how S/O handled this if it would be the 10%.

(Yae) "You are aware that Youkai pertain some of their more non-human traits, correct?"

S/O tilted their head in confusion, similar to how a dog would, forcing her to stifle back a laugh and an urge to just grab them.

(S/O) "Y-Yes...Is what happening right now similar to that?"

(Yae) "Mhm...And since it's the summer, you could say I have...instincts I wish to fulfill."

She blinked her eyes slowly and seductively at them, leading their wrist down to her waist all the while.

(Yae) "Are you following what I'm saying?"

S/O remained silent for a moment before their eyes widened.

(Yae) ...They probably have no idea what I'm even talking about.

(S/O) "Do you need to like...hunt or something, Miko?"

S/O began chuckling, seeing the image in their head of a tiny cute pink fox chasing fish around in a pond.

(S/O) "Actually, I'd like to see that!"

Yae, was less than amused.

(Yae) Okay, they're not getting it at all.

Well, there was always the direct path of just telling S/O that "I'm horny" to get the message across.

But that'd also gut a lot of the eroticism out (For S/O's case anyway, which she didn't think it was possible for that statement to lessen a person's libido) and S/O being the moron they were would probably think she had actual horns.

And by all the damned spirits in hell, would she leave her own hands to relieve her.

Now, how to fluster S/O and have them actually, y'know, help her with this heat?

...Wait, they just gave her the perfect segue-

The smirk came back to Yae in a brief second, her head leaning in next to their ear as she sat up.

(Yae) "Mmm...I can show you what I'm hunting for~."

And immediately going for a deep and hungry kiss, Yae got the message across with her actions.

Which S/O yelped a little in surprise, which was muffled by her laughing into their mouth, dragging them down into the seat with her.

...

A few hours later, S/O stumbled out of the room with Yae, both their hair looking quite disheveled, though S/O looked far more unkempt.

Yae in contrast appeared in a far more better state than before, with a smile and her ears resting in content.

S/O's clothes were barely on correctly, with several red marks on their necks and struggling to stand upright.

(Yae) "Thank you for your assistance, dear. I'll be sure to let you know when I need it."

(S/O) "...S-Sure...By the way, Miko? You never did actually tell me what you were feeling."

(Yae) "..."

She didn't respond and instead just continued to smile, pretending to not have heard the question.

How do you almost suck the life out of someone that way, and still not have them catch on to what she was feeling?!

Yae had half a mind to shock them, but decided against it. They did end up helping out in the end.

[tkwrites]

Sarah Meets the Parents - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest. Did I crop the brothers out of this photo because I couldn't find any of Quinn with just his parents? Yes, yes I did.

Title: Sarah Meets the Parents

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC) 

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 

Summary: As Requested, Sarah meets Ellen and Jim.

Word Count: 5,300

Comments: This fic has been in the back of my mind for so long. I originally didn’t intend for it to be it’s own Snapshot, but it was heavily requested, so here it is. I hope you enjoy! 

fallinallincurls asked: i LOVED your latest quinn & sarah fic and was curious if we’ll get to see sarah meet jack & luke/his parents?? I already know i’d absolutely love that fic so much omg

dasiysthings asked: I seriously hope you’re planning a chapter/s on Sarah meeting Ellen, Jim, Luke and Jack! Because the new one meeting Brady is simply the cutest 🥰

Sarah Meets the Parents

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

There weren't many things Ellen could say she knew for certain, but she did know her eldest son had never been in love. 

In high school, he thought he'd been in love as much as a teenager can without the maturity or full understanding of the concept. When he got to college, he dated, but every girl they met seemed to be in his life for convenience more than because of any kind of real chemistry. Then there was the mess with June. He'd been so in lust with her that he overlooked and defended all her actions to his own detriment. 

Quinn had been what he thought was head over heels about her. Each time Ellen tried to bring up any concerns, he bulldozed over her worry, explaining away every bad thing June said or did. The only thing he seemed to hear when Ellen brought it up was the, “I like her,” part of the conversation, while brushing aside the follow up, “but I'm worried.”

When they met her, Quinn had been nervous, almost as if he was bracing for the worst. It was a strange thing to hear him talk about how much he liked her, while at the same time acting a bit scared of how she would react to things. 

It was terrible to watch him get into that relationship, calling it love when it clearly wasn’t - at least not on June's part - and then after it finally fell apart, having to dig his way out again. 

Over the past few months, she'd noticed a change in Quinn.

He called to ask her about supporting someone in grief, but didn’t tell her anything other than he was going out with someone who had lost a parent. 

Since then, he’d talk about this girl - this woman - named Sarah every time they were on the phone. She naturally dropped into their conversations about what he’d been doing. After a month, she’d asked him, “Are you dating her?” 

“Yeah,” he’d admitted as his cheeks went ruddy over the facetime video, “I really like her.” 

Quinn often blushed - that pale skin of his didn’t hide much - but she’d never seen him blush over a girl quite like this. He seemed almost bashful. 

He told her how Sarah was in grad school, and how they got along so well. He didn’t always give details, but she could see that he was happy and more settled than she'd seen him in a long time. 

When Luke had called to ask her if she knew he had a girlfriend, the only thing that shocked her was that he was using that term before telling her about it. Even more so that he hadn’t told his brothers about her at all. 

When she found out the title “girlfriend” had come from Brady and not from Quinn himself, and they talked about his reasoning for holding back from his brothers, it made much more sense. 

Coming to Vancouver this time, she wasn’t sure if this certainty would continue to hold true or not. 

On the surface, she and Jimmy were coming in to visit Quinn and hopefully see the Canucks clinch into their first playoff berth since 2020. Their first real playoff berth since the mid 2000s. Even with all that excitement, they also wanted to meet this woman Brady liked well enough to jump straight into calling Quinn's girlfriend. 

Knowing things in his life had changed didn't prepare her for the shift she saw in Quinn when he picked them up from the airport. 

He hopped out of the car and hugged her tightly. “I'm so glad you're here,” he said before hugging Jim and helping him load the bags.

This was the same song and dance he did every time they came to visit, but this time, Quinn had a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step she'd never seen before. He was even humming on the drive to his condo, despite the city traffic. 

They were already in different territory than they’d been with June. Quinn was a little nervous now. She could see it in the tap of his fingers on the steering wheel and the way his left knee bounced, but it wasn't that same kind of bracing nervousness it had been with June. This seemed more like the jittery nerves he used to get before a big game when he was younger. He seemed hopeful. 

They talked about their flight and things back home in Michigan. 

“Are we still meeting Sarah?” Jim asked. He had a way of cutting straight to the heart of a conversation. It was a skill Ellen had appreciated all their life together.  

“Yeah, she's at my place,” Quinn said with this goofy little smile she didn’t see on him very often. “She was making dessert when I left.” 

More than just to appease her maternal anxiety, Ellen was so interested to meet this woman who had turned her intense, hockey obsessed little boy into such a love boat. 

“I think you're really going to like her,” he was saying. 

If she made Quinn this happy, Ellen had no doubt she would. 

Glancing at Jimmy in the back seat, she found him watching Quinn with a quiet intensity. When he noticed her gaze, he turned a reassuring smile on her. 

When the door to Quinn’s apartment opened, Sarah took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. This was an exciting and joyous occasion. It was also nerve wracking, sad and a little bit painful, and it was okay to hold all those things at once. She imagined welcoming each emotion into her heart and mind like Jenny, her therapist, had taught her. It was better to feel them than to stuff them down. 

Treat them as visitors, she reminded herself, no emotion lasts forever.

“I’ll go get her,” she heard Quinn say.

The excitement shining in his face when Quinn came into the kitchen made her smile.

He gathered her into a quick, tight hug, “you ready?” 

She tucked her face into his neck for a moment, holding him a little longer to fortify herself. 

“Okay, I'm ready,” she took a step back, “I don't have anything in my teeth, do I?” 

“No, you're good.”

Taking her hand, he led her into the living room where his parents were waiting, standing in front of the couch.

“Sarah,” Quinn said, finding himself less nervous than he expected, “these are my parents, Ellen and Jim. Mom, dad, this is Sarah.” 

The first thing she thought was how Quinn had pieces of both his parents: Jim’s wide smile and thick chest, and Ellen's bone structure. 

Ellen was lithe and strong - shaped like a woman who was an athlete all her life, even as an empty nester. Jim looked like a jovial dad - like most of her friends' fathers, like her own too - who played sports when they were younger, but were a bit more relaxed in their later years.

To Ellen, Sarah looked like the kind of girl she always hoped her boys would end up with. She had a kind smile and hopeful, smart eyes.

Quinn was obviously in love with her. He was practically glowing with it. He looked at her like she was the best, brightest thing in the room - like he’d never get bored of seeing her face. She’d never seen him look so lovestruck before. She didn’t know he even could.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Sarah said, extending her hand, “Quinn talks about you all the time.” 

Jim took her hand in both of his and gave her a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

Ellen bypassed her hand, and went in for a quick hug.

Quinn watched as the surprise on Sarah’s face melted into a smile as they embraced. 

Feeling the nervous energy radiating off of Sarah, Ellen tried to put her more at ease. “You're so much prettier than Quinn let on,” she said as she stepped back. They’d seen pictures of her - well one picture of her. The selfie Quinn had shared with his brothers. The photo didn’t capture how blue her eyes actually were or show any of her curvy figure. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, a flush glowing on her cheeks.

The conversation lulled and Quinn jumped in. “Well, dinner’s ready if you’re hungry,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder, “or we can relax for a while before we eat.” 

“I’m famished,” Jim said, holding a hand to his stomach. 

“Then let's eat.” 

As they settled around the table, Ellen took note of the way Sarah helped Quinn bring out dishes before finally settling into the seat on his left. 

“So, Sarah,” Jim said once they'd all dished up, “Quinn tells us you golf.” 

She swallowed quickly, nodding. “Yeah, my dad taught all of us when we were young. We went every Sunday as a family until I left for college.” 

“I bet you’re pretty good then.” 

“I’m decent,” she said with a shrug. 

Quinn rolled his eyes. “She shot the lights out and beat us all last weekend. Petey included.” 

She gave a smile to her dinner plate, but didn’t deny it or try to placate Quinn’s feelings. Ellen instantly liked that about her. 

“What does your dad do?” 

“Ma,” Quinn cut in, an exasperated look on his face. 

Sarah lay a hand over his, “it’s fine.” Looking back to Ellen, she said, “my dad was an aerospace engineer, but he passed away four years ago.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I forgot Quinn told us.”

“Thank you, but it’s really fine. I don’t expect everyone to remember - it’s just part of life.” 

While Sarah took the faux pa with grace, Quinn was a little embarrassed his mom didn’t remember.

“And you’re getting your PhD?” Jim asked. 

“I’m not quite to that level,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Just my masters. You really only need a doctorate if you want to teach and that's not really something I'm interested in.” 

“In Marine Biology?” 

“Zoology,” she corrected, “they’re similar fields, but we focus solely on the animal kingdom rather than ocean life as a whole.” 

“I bet that’s fascinating,” Ellen said. 

“I think it is, but I’ve always loved the ocean.” 

“So what will you do with that degree?” 

“Mostly work in aquariums, but there’s some work in conservation, which I feel really passionately about, so I’d prefer that.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Ellen, Quinn told me you're working with the national women's hockey team, that must be really cool.”

Ellen had come into this dinner thinking she would have to drive the conversion like she had with most of the girls her boys dated. It was a refreshing change of pace to find Sarah willing to do part of the work.

“Yeah. It's nice to step into that coaching role formally for the first time. It's really amazing to see how far the sport has come for women.”

“Oh, I bet,” Sarah said. “I started following the new women's league after I met Quinn and it's cool to see them play on such a big stage.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I hardly knew anything about hockey when we met. So I started reading articles, and I subscribed to The Athletic, and I know a little more now. It's a whole world I'm still trying to figure out.”

The dedication that showed was impressive. 

“You'd never watched hockey before?” Jim asked.

“I mean, I'm sure my dad had it on during the Olympics, but I never paid that much attention to it.”

“Remind me where you're from?”

“Nevada.”

“I bet there weren't many opportunities for you to see hockey when you were a kid.”

“No,” she laughed. 

When dinner wound down, Sarah got up to clear the table. 

“You don’t need to do that,” Ellen said. “You helped with the meal.”

“You all haven’t seen each other in so long. I’ll take care of the dishes while you catch up,” she said, reaching under Jims protesting arm to lift his plate. 

Ellen smiled gratefully at her and tried to think if any of her boys had dated such thoughtful women before. 

Glad for a moment alone to gather her thoughts and emotions, Sarah loaded the dishwasher before finishing the tart. 

Surprisingly, the sadness she'd expected to feel never came. At least, not as strongly as she'd braced for. It seemed the build up and worry were worse. Instead, nerves sparked and fizzed in her stomach.

Before he'd left for the airport, Quinn had reassured her she didn’t have anything to worry about. While Ellen seemed especially friendly, she had a harder time reading Jim, who seemed to hold his cards closer to his chest.

At the very least, it was going better than when she met her college boyfriend's parents, who outright told her she was too good for their son while he sat across the dinner table. To this day, it was the most backhanded compliment she’d ever been given. It told her so much about his home life and explained the snide remarks he would make when she made a mistake or did something differently than he expected. She’d ended the relationship shortly thereafter.

As she arranged the raspberries, she hoped Ellen and Jim actually liked her, and weren’t just putting on a show to her face. 

“I like her, Quinny,” his mom said when he asked what they thought. 

He beamed. 

“I can tell she’s very driven.” 

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed. “I like that about her.” 

“I just worry -”

His smile slipped a bit. 

“You work in such different fields, and lead such different lives.” 

“So?”

“Well, I mean, what happens if you get traded somewhere where you’re not near the ocean?” 

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I’ve been so focused on making the playoffs,” he admitted. Plus, he had three more years in Vancouver and would gladly stay longer if it was still a good fit. 

“Like I said, I like her. She seems really sweet and I can tell you like each other a lot, but I want you to pay attention to some of the things that might not be all sunshine and rainbows down the road. Relationships are about compromise, and I'm worried some of the compromises you may have to make might cause more of an impact than you’re used to.”

“Yeah, those are some good points," Quinn agreed. "I’ll talk with her about it.” He knew this honeymoon phase would end eventually. They were four weeks from the playoffs and three weeks from her finals. The next month would be a test, that was for sure. 

A relieved smile slid onto Ellen's face. He was being far more mature about this than he had when she expressed hesitations about June. Some of the worry uncoiled in her chest.

“What do you think, dad?”

“She’s very pretty.” 

“And?”

“And what?” 

“She’s pretty? That’s all you have to say?” 

“I don’t know, Q. I just met her. She’s pretty. She seems very smart.” 

Quinn dropped it. His dad would tell him what he thought eventually, but trying to pry an opinion out of him before he was ready was fruitless. 

All the same, Jim lit up when Sarah came in with the chocolate tart. 

“That looks delicious,” he said. “What's in it?”

“It's a chocolate cream mousse over a layer of caramel in a dark chocolate and almond crust. The raspberries on top help to cut some of the richness.”

“That sounds delicious.” 

Ellen took a bite, and felt her eyes flutter closed, “Sarah, this is divine.” 

“Thank you. It was my dads favorite.” 

Quinn put a comforting hand on her knee.

“It’s going to be dangerous to have this in the house,” Jim said, joking.

“Oh, I can take it to school tomorrow if you don’t want it around,” she offered. 

“I’m not sure I’m willing to give it up.”

She laughed, and Quinn shot her a quick, reassuring grin.

“Are you free tomorrow before the game?” Ellen asked when Sarah announced she should probably head home.

“Well, I have class in the morning, and then I’m at the aquarium until three, but I’m free afterward.” 

“I was thinking about getting a manicure and wondered if you wanted to go together.” 

“Oh, I can’t do manicures because my hands are always in the tanks.” 

Ellen felt her hesitations go up. When she had asked June this same thing, June had shot her down, telling her she’d just had her nails done. She didn't seem to catch the subtext of wanting to spend some time together without the boys around. 

“But I would love to get a pedicure if that might work?” 

“That sounds great. We can do that and then meet Jim for dinner and all go to the game together.” 

“That sounds really nice.” she said before yawning, “I’m sorry, I was up at 5 this morning to study for an exam. I’ve got to get home.” 

“I’ll drive you,” Quinn offered, slipping a protective arm around her. 

He told his parents, who were sharing a silent conversation with their eyes, he'd be back and led Sarah down to the parking garage. 

As soon as they were in his car, he asked, “so, what do you think?” 

“They’re really nice,” she said. “I can’t tell if your dad likes me or not, though.”

“That's just Jim,” he assured, reaching over to lace their fingers together. “He doesn't like most people when he meets them, but he'll come around.”

They were quiet for a while as Quinn brushed his thumb over her palm. Finally, he asked, "you okay?"

The very fact that he was checking in made her swoon a little.

"Yeah. It actually wasn't that bad. I mean, I miss them, but it wasn't as painful as I expected."

He squeezed her hand, "I'm glad."

"Thank you for checking."

Briefly taking his eyes off the road, he cast a startled look in her direction. "Why wouldn't I check in?"

"I don't know, just," she matched their fingertips together, gently pushing to move his, "it's just really nice to be seen."

He understood that. Sarah saw pieces of him most of the world didn't. With her, he wasn't Quinn Hughes, hockey prodigy. He was just Quinn, and she liked all the quieter parts of him, too.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he pulled up to her building.

Leaning over the console, she kissed him goodbye, lingering a little longer than usual.

"See you tomorrow," she echoed once she pulled away.

He watched her walk into the building before driving home.

The following afternoon, Sarah had to race across town as soon as she was off work to make the appointment Ellen had set up at a ritzy spa downtown.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, blustering into the waiting area, “the train was late, and I was…I got here as fast as I could.” 

“It’s fine,” Ellen said, giving her a quick squeeze before walking to the desk to let the attendant know everyone in their party had arrived. 

They got changed into their robes and were seated in some fancy chairs above marble foot basins. Sarah had never done anything this lavish. She went to get pedis with her mom and sister, but that was always down at the salon in the mall.

“Have you come here before?”

“Only once, but it was so lovely, I’ve thought about coming back every time we visit.” 

“It’s very nice.”

Ellen hadn’t failed to notice the way Sarah's eyes popped when they walked into the serene pedicure room. A part of her was relieved she wasn't used to such luxury. 

“It’s a little more opulent than what I’m used to back home,” Ellen admitted with a little laugh, “but it’s nice for a special occasion.”

Sarah felt herself relax. 

Since the night before, Ellen felt a bit like she'd stepped into some kind of time warp. She'd glanced away from her oldest son, and when she looked back, everything in his life had changed. Even the phone calls and facetimeing hadn’t prepared her for the way Sarah was in Quinn’s life in what already seemed like such a permanent way. 

Instead of watching their relationship bloom like she had with Luke and Kylee, who had followed a natural progression that was easy to track as they went from friends, to dating, and now long distance with Kylee already making plans to move to New Jersey when she graduated from Michigan, she was coming into something nearly fully formed.

She was glad for this time alone to get to know Sarah a little more.

“So, tell me about your research.” 

Sarah explained about Walter and how the hormone testing was going. She was writing a publication on it for her grant writing class that semester, and hoped to have it published in a scientific journal.

“That sounds really interesting.” 

“It is. It’s wild to see how he reacts to those small changes. It’s really rewarding to gather results with such traceable data.” 

“I bet. What do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have a lot of free time. Between school and work and spending time with Quinn, there’s not much leftover, but I really like reading, and I like to golf and hike when I can.” 

“You don’t do any ocean sports?” 

“I surfed casually when I was in Hawaii, but the water’s so cold here, I haven’t picked it up again.” 

“You lived in Hawaii?” 

“For about two years. I was working with a conservation non-profit. That’s where my love for the ocean really bloomed.”

“We’re going this summer. You’ll have to give us some recommendations.”

They talked for a long time about their vacation. Sarah promised to write up a list of suggestions. Ellen wondered if she might be joining them. Kylee was staying home, but that was because of a prior engagement on her part. 

“And Quinn’s been treating you well?” she asked, bracing for the response. Not that she expected Sarah to be totally truthful to her face.

“Oh, yes,” she said, not missing a beat. “He's the best guy I've ever dated.”

“Really?” The realistic side of her never expected to hear that. Ellen knew her sons. She knew how they could be selfish and too competitive and too focused on hockey. 

“Yeah. I mean, he gets in his head sometimes, but I do too. I was just thinking last night about how he's just the most caring person. I've never met someone so driven that's so kind and dedicated to the people in his life.”

The sincere look in Sarah's face told her just how truthful that statement was. It was the fulfillment of so many of her motherhood goals all at once, Ellen nearly teared up. “I'm really glad to hear that.”

Sarah smiled, and fiddled with the robe tie around her waist.

“Have you talked to the boys yet?” Ellen asked, even though she knew the answer. 

“The boys?”

“My other boys, Jack and Luke?” 

“Oh, yeah, we talked over facetime last week,” Sarah said. 

“Was it okay?” Ellen asked, picking up on the hesitation in her tone.

“I think so? Jack seemed kind of closed off, which, from the way Quinn talks about him, I didn’t really expect.” 

“I think that’s probably Quinn’s fault. He didn’t tell them about you until you met Brady, and usually he would have, so I think Jack’s feeling a little put out.”

“I didn't…why didn't he tell them?” she asked, wondering if perhaps he was embarrassed and wanted to make sure Brady approved before he was willing to share her with his family. 

“I think you should probably ask Quinn that, but it had a lot to do with June. I don't think he totally trusted himself after they broke up. Jack will come around once he sees how happy you and Quinn are together,” she assured.

Sarah felt herself blush. Hearing Ellen, even indirectly, acknowledge how happy they were, felt like a mountain climbed, like a battle conquered. 

At the end of the appointment, Ellen laughed when Sarah pulled her own sandals out of her robe pockets to wear while the polish dried in lieu of the spa supplied slides she was wearing. 

“I have this weird thing about wearing shoes that aren’t mine,” she said, slipping on the Birkenstocks. “I know they’re sanitary, but it’s just,” she shuddered, “gross to me.” 

After they changed, Ellen beat Sarah out to the reception desk. Sarah pulled her wallet out but Ellen shushed her gently, “it's my treat.” 

“Thank you. That's so nice.” 

Jim picked them up and drove to a restaurant near the arena Sarah recommended.

As they settled into the booth, Sarah on one side, and Jim and Ellen on the other, she told them, “I like this place because they have a testing menu, so there’s always something new and interesting. I’ve never had anything bad here.” 

They talked throughout. Sarah asked Jim about his consulting job, and he explained what he did and how his coaching career helped him get there. Ellen explained more of what she was doing with the women's hockey program. 

Even though it was a bit strange and a big step to have dinner with Quinn’s parents without him less than twenty four hours after they met, Sarah was glad to have some time to talk and get to know them a little more. Jim, especially, seemed more friendly.

At the end of the meal, Sarah tapped her card to the payment device before either of them could jump in. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Ellen protested after the waiter walked away.

“You’re guests, you shouldn’t have to pay,” Sarah said.

Also, she wasn’t sixteen. She didn’t need her boyfriend's parents to pay for everything. 

 

When they got to their seats, Jim made sure Sarah was sitting between them. He usually would have put Ellen in the middle, but if she was, he wouldn’t get to talk with Sarah at all. 

He wasn’t blind. He saw the way Quinn looked at her, and knew if he had anything to say about it, Sarah would be in their lives for a long time. He needed to bite the bullet and get to know her now. 

They made some small talk, but once the game started, Sarah watched with a quiet intensity.

“You look a little confused,” he said, noticing Sarah's furrowed brow half way through the first period.

“I’m…” she paused, “I am.” 

“What are you confused about?” 

“I can look it up when we go to a commercial break,” she said, not wanting to be an inconvenience.

“I can answer you questions,” he offered.

“Okay,” she said, “but let me know if I'm talking too much.”

“How are you going to learn if you don't ask?” Ellen asked. 

“I just…I don’t want to overwhelm you, or take you out of the game.” 

Jim smiled, “we’ll let you know if you ask too many questions,” he assured. Most girlfriends he met would just watch, occasionally making comments. It was refreshing that Sarah wanted to understand Quinn's work so much.

When she smiled at him, he saw a flash of what had drawn Quinn to her. She was very pretty, but those bright, intelligent eyes made him want to talk to her. It was as if he knew she would be smart and interesting before she even said a word. 

“Okay, so as I understand it, Dallas is running a 2-1-2 forecheck, right?”

Jim blinked and looked at Ellen, who was mirroring his startled expression. 

“Right,” he said, confused as to where this was headed. Usually, when he had to explain the rules to someone new to hockey, their first question wasn’t about play strategy.

“So what I don’t understand is why the Canucks aren’t responding in kind. Wouldn’t it make sense to forecheck man to man?” 

“Well, firstly, when you’re chasing the other team down, it's referred to as backchecking.” 

“Okay, that makes sense."

He continued, “and it doesn’t always make sense to defend man to man. A lot of it depends on the way the coach wants the team to play."

“Okay, so can you explain the Canucks backchecking strategy to me?” 

“You know,” Jim said instead of getting into the very complicated reasoning behind play selection, “when you said you had questions, I expected them to be about icing or something.” 

“Oh, I asked Quinn and read the rules,” she said, flipping a hand, “I understand most of them now. I just don’t get the coach's motivation sometimes.” 

He laughed, “Welcome to being a hockey fan.”

Some of her worry eased at his laughter. Of course Quinn was right. He knew his own family best.

They continued talking through the game. Jim was impressed with the ferocity at which Sarah wanted to understand. She knew more than most of the girls his kids had dated in the past, but it was fairly obvious she got most of her knowledge from reading. Sometimes, when play went into a gray area, she would make a noise in her throat as if that would scold the refs into calling by the book. Even when Quinn ended up in the penalty box for a cross check most of the stadium was up in arms about, she watched the replay, shrugged and said, “I think that call was probably justified.” 

Even though the Canucks lost in overtime, it still gave them one of the three points they needed to get to the finals. The whole stadium was buzzing with possibility and hope. 

They all left together and Ellen drove her home. When she kissed Quinn goodbye in the back seat, Sarah tried not to feel like an awkward teen getting chaperoned, as if they couldn't be trusted on their own.

Getting back to the condo, Jim was glad for some time alone with Quinn. These moments after big games were something he cherished now that they happened so infrequently.

“You guys really rallied back in the third to get that extra point. I'm proud of you." 

“Thanks dad.” 

They talked about and dissected the game over another slice of Sarah’s chocolate tart before Quinn asked, “how was dinner?” 

“Good,” Ellen said, “though I wish she would have let us pay. She just kind of swooped in and took the bill.” 

“She does that sometimes,” Quinn said.

Truthfully, he always hated when she did. He knew she didn’t have a ton of money, and he had more than he knew what to do with.

When he brought it up, she’d shushed him with a comment about being able to pull her own weight. 

“She does it with you too?” 

“Yeah, she talks about wanting to balance out.” 

It was refreshing to find Sarah so independent. Jim didn’t worry about how she would fill her time when Quinn was on the road, or that she was only interested in him because of deep pockets or a ticket to fame.

“I don’t really know how you got her,” Jim said, “but I’m glad you did. She’s a really great girl.” 

Quinn beamed, knowing it was the truth. 

“I do think your mom’s right, though. You two need to have some conversations about the future. Set some expectations.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk with her about it.”

"You should invite her to the Reunion," his mom said, almost off handedly.

If they wanted her at the family reunion that summer, they saw the same potential he did.

"Okay, I will."

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[theconstantsidekick]

i'm here as a hater.

i watched red white and royal blue and i'm here to be a hater.

i was having such a great time on tumblr, looking over people's posts and then i went to letterboxd to leave a review and my fucking god. why are there so many people bashing this film for being a bad adaptation. worse yet, why are they queer?

i understand, trust me, i completely understand loving a piece of media and waiting impatiently with bated breath to watch the adaptation of it into another recognisable medium. i'm a mortal instruments girlie, i'm a last of us girlie, i'm a fault in our stars girlie, i'm a watchmen girlie. i get it. i do. sometimes maybe good, sometimes maybe shit.

but bruv, i am also a person who works in the film industry and you have no fucking clue the amount of effort it takes to make a film let alone a film that's an adaptation of a pre-existing, utterly loved piece of fiction that is revered by so many. and this movie goes one step further. this is a cheesy, cutesy rom-com about a queer couple. how many of those do we even have? no. really. how many hopeful, easy-going, cheesy queer rom-coms have you watched? can you count them on one hand? do you need a google search to remind yourself of them?

this film is a rare commodity and fine, maybe that's not a good enough reason for you to be 'lenient' to it... but it kinda is. no adaptation will be perfect, not really, not for everyone. every piece of media has it's flaws but adaptations most of all. but this film does something that you cannot dismiss simply because your favourite scene wasn't in it. personally i so miss alex's speech before the election results are announced. i miss ellen's powerful and amazing speech when she does win. i miss june, i miss raphael and i miss leo, and the powerpoint presentations and i miss cornbread knowing alex's sins.

but none of that will ever take away from the beauty of being able to sit in front of my laptop and watch the most intimate queer love scene i have ever laid my eyes on. it just won't.

anyway.... i'm rambling. the point that i was trying to make before i got lost in all this, was that you are obviously allowed to hate on the movie but like... be kinder about it? don't hate it because it's not a straight up remake of the book. don't hate it because it's cheesy. idk man, just hate kindly, if possible.

this is a huge step for us.

i don't want the response to this film to seem negative in a way that gives the (already reluctant) studious more reason to not make queer media for queer people, you know?

there will come a time in this life where we can hate and critique queer media without worrying about all this context but we're not there yet?

so i guess, like henry, i'm also asking for y'all patience.

however, whoever fucking said that nick and taylor don't have chemistry can suck my huge ugly metaphorical dick. fuck you. they made me week in the knees.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

I’d kill for maybe a blurb about Steve and Hawkins getting ready to head back to camp for the summer, for the first time as a couple - maybe packing up, the road trip, anything like that!

“Did you pack the bug spray?”

Steve stared at you from across the hood of his car, his expression innocent. “I thought you packed it?”

You sighed, expression crestfallen. “Steve! I asked you, like, eight times yesterday. You said you’d pick it up from the store after work—”

Steve was watching you, head tilted to the side, grinning.

Your eyes narrowed but your lips twitched. “I hate you,” you deadpanned and tried your best to mean it.

“No you don’t,” Steve laughed but you drowned the sound out as you dropped yourself into the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW.

The trunk and the backseat was filled with a mix of both your bags, oversized duffles and hiking rucksacks, your pillow stacked on top of Steve’s, a cooler stuff in the footwell that was crammed with beer and cheap wine, something Steve and Jonathan would have to smuggle into a cabin when it got dark.

Steve slipped in beside you, hands on the wheel and he was still grinning, looking smug. He set you with those eyes, soft and honey coloured in the morning sun. “C’mon now,” he tsked. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

It wasn’t, or yours for that matter, both of you returning for your fifth summer at camp. But you rolled your eyes anyway. “Yeah, but you never listen to me.”

A lie.

Steve huffed out a laugh, a wide, warm hand on your bare thigh ‘cause the June heat was already intense and shorts at seven am was the only way to work through it. Steve felt hotter than the air outside, but maybe that’s just because his fingers were working upupup—

“I always listen to you,” Steve commented back, his choice growing softer the longer he touched you. You tipped your head back onto the seat to look at him, cheek pressed to the leather, trying not to smile. “You’re just grumpy ‘cause it’s early.”

You wrinkled your nose at him, laughing when he leaned in and kissed it.

“Yeah, it’s fucking early,” you grumbled. “Remind me why we’re leaving now?”

Steve slid on his sunglasses before he pulled the car out of park, one hand on the back of your headrest as he reversed down the drive. “Because,” he explained, “if we get there before Eddie or Robin, we can christen a cabin.”

You laughed, taking in his profile as he drove you both out of town, past the wheat fields and the water tower, the hazy blue skies and sun making him golden.

“You act as if we’ve never done that before.”

Steve shrugged, “it’s a new summer. The numbers roll back to zero, babe.”

“I thought we were behaving this year,” you grinned when Steve took his eyes off the road for just a second, turning to you with an aghast expression.

“Are we fuck behaving,” Steve intoned. His hand found your thigh again, fingers curling around the soft skin there. “C’mon, what’s one more bro—”

“Don’t say kayak, Steve.”

“—ken kayak.” He grinned.

“You’re terrible,” you told him but you were grinning too, cheeks sore with it ‘cause he was so pretty, hair still wild from bed, cheeks flushed from the summer.

The boy shrugged, bashful, like you’d given him a compliment. But you placed your hand on top of his, the one that was still on your leg and you dragged it higher, a slow climb along your thigh until his fingers could disappear under the denim on your shorts. You watched him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he stared at the road ahead and the car started to slow.

You leaned in, the parking brake pressed against your tummy as you resisted the urge to all but clamber over the console and onto Steve’s lap. “Or,” you started, voice soft and a little deeper than usual. The boy sucked in a breath, ‘cause he knew that tone so well. “We could pull over somewhere quiet.”

You kissed his cheek, grinning at the way his hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles white. Another kiss, below his ear, the edges of your teeth grazing his lobe. He shivered.

“I’d let you sit me on the hood, seeing as the backseat is full. Maybe you could be real nice and bend me over it— Steve!”

The car was jerked to the side of the road, a cloud of orange dust kicked up behind it. The fields were quiet, the main Highway empty and Steve looked desperate as the car rumbled and protested its way down a small dirt track, a forgotten farm road that ended in a thatch of trees.

The boy killed the engine and jumped out, grinning at you as he tapped the hood, waiting.

“We’re barely out of Hawkins!” You called out to him from his open door, incredulous, but Steve looked like Christmas had come in summer and you laughed, a sharp, happy sound. “Jesus Christ, babe.”

Steve rocked on the balls of his feet, impatient. “Don’t do all that,” Steve flung a hand out to gesture to where he’d been sitting, where you were still leaning. “And expect me not to want it fucking immediately.”

You stared at him through the windshield, shaking your head with a smile. “You’re such a boy.” But you took your seatbelt off.

“I’m a man of needs, princess,” he told you, giddy looking as you got out of the car. Long grass brushed your shins and the sun was hot on your shoulders, insects buzzing in the otherwise quiet morning. “And my girl is too fucking hot to be real, so…”

Steve tapped the hood again, brows raised. This wasn’t an argument you were planning on winning.

You gave in.

Twice.

…

[ghcstao3]

(from this post. i got excited)

It’s an easy job, at the very least.

Show up, have Price assign a location, sell produce for eight hours straight, go home. Repeat the next day, or two days from then, whichever is most convenient to the farmer running the entire operation. Proceed all summer long.

It’s simple, almost too simple, but who is Johnny to complain when he’s getting paid above minimum wage to essentially sit around all season?

At least, Johnny wouldn’t be one to complain if it weren’t for the fellow university student he’s consistently paired up with to work alongside.

It’s not that Simon is rude or unpleasant or anything—in fact, if he was, Johnny thinks it might make things a bit easier—he’s just… quiet. And frustratingly intriguing but so unresponsive to Johnny’s attempts at making the days that seem to stretch on forever just a little more bearable.

At some point Johnny starts to think Simon hates him, with the way he’ll hold longer conversations with customers than with his own coworker. It’s miserable, in all honesty, because Johnny had just hoped to come away from this job with a friend, like most of his past employments—instead he’s been saddled with one-word responses and the barest hint of a cold-shoulder and it’s driving him insane.

But Johnny lets Simon ignore him. He’d prefer mutual company, sure, but he also recognizes when limits are set.

So when they’re trapped under their stand of the day, huddled together as much as two people can be without touching, Johnny still makes no attempt to spark conversation even as the chill of an anomalous late-June near-freezing cold soaks into his bones. He keeps his mouth shut even when he begins shivering uncontrollably, not wanting to disturb Simon and whatever contentedness he feels in his silences and steady gazes.

Though, Johnny nearly whines when Simon gets up and takes his warmth with him after muttering something about getting something from the truck.

Then Simon is returning, and something silver and crinkling is being draped over Johnny’s shoulders with a tentative care before Simon is returning to his spot without a word. Johnny pulls the emergency blanket tighter around himself and finally allows himself a glance at Simon, still composed and unreadable as ever.

Johnny dares break the silence with a soft, “Thank you.”

Simon shrugs a shoulder. His eyes are still firmly set ahead, to the space where imaginary customers stand in the pouring rain.

“Don’t imagine Price would appreciate having to fill out a report if you got hypothermia,” Simon says. 

It’s the most words he’s spoken to Johnny in succession, and it comes at a slight shock. Johnny stares, wide-eyed, incidentally boring holes in the side of Simon’s face. He watches Simon’s jaw work, almost like he’s chewing on the regret of opening a line of communication to Johnny.

“I’m sure he’d find a loophole,” Johnny quips.

Simon huffs. Johnny suspects it’s the closest to a laugh he might ever get.

In the lull that follows, Simon hangs his head, picks at a loose thread on his jeans. There’s almost a bashful quality to the action as he asks, “What do you call a bear in the rain?”

Johnny frowns. The first time Simon ever really talks to him, and he’s… setting up punchlines? But even amidst his confusion, Johnny echoes, “What do you call a bear in the rain?”

Simon looks up at Johnny, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “A drizzly bear,” he replies in a deadpan.

Johnny snorts before bursting into a fuller laugh, fingers curling tightly around the edges of the blanket as he doubles over at the absurdity of… everything. There must be something in the air. In the God-awful weather.

“That’s horrible,” Johnny laughs, “Just terrible.”

“There’s more where that came from,” Simon tells him, sounding vaguely pleased with himself.

“Well, go on, then.” Johnny grins. His stomach cramps with fading laughter. “Give it your best.”

And Simon sure does.

Johnny isn’t too certain what’s shifted between them to cause this, in this short frame of time. But either way, he’s glad for it.

Now he can only pray it holds up for the rest of the summer, let alone their next shift together. This side of Simon is far better than anything Johnny could have hoped for, in his prior endeavours to be amicable.

How he could listen to Simon telling stupid jokes for the rest of time.

Johnny can't wait to learn more about him.

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 2 - "It didn't have to be this way"

| Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

Everyone's favorite wholesome couple is back!! /j I didn't proofread (then again when do I ever), so sorry in case its kind of messy lol.

CW: Yandere/intimate whumper, torture, blood, implied noncon, kidnapping, murder (not Rowan or Sawyer)

...

Rowan couldn't go a single second without Sawyer mentioning his past life. It seemed that no matter how much time passed, Sawyer refused to accept the new life they lived together. That really hurt his feelings.

Why couldn't Sawyer see that he only did these things because he loved him? He did everything he did out of love, and Sawyer needed to appreciate him for that.

He set down a cup of tea for him and sat across from him at their small dining room table. Sawyer eyed the cup and saucer but didn't touch it. He did that sometimes, tried to pretend he wasn't hungry or thirsty.

"Come on, drink up. It's herbal and it's good for you." Rowan took a sip from his own teacup, his eyes never leaving Sawyer's face.

"It sucks. I want coffee," Sawyer bitterly said. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the dark wood of the table.

Rowan dragged out a sigh. "I think you've had enough caffeine in your lifetime. Besides, this has chamomile in it, and that helps you sleep. That's what you want, right?"

He hated the fact that Sawyer still couldn't sleep in their bed, and preferred the guest bedroom's old, worn mattress. Sometimes Rowan would allow him a slight bit of space, but only sparingly.

"I want to go home." Sawyer's voice cracked. "I miss my friends, I miss the club, and... I want to be with people again, Rowan."

"You have me." Rowan scowled at him. "That should be enough. What's so wrong with that?" Sawyer shook his head, but kept his mouth shut. To Rowan, it just proved he was right. "Besides, why sing in front of a bunch of perverted drunks when you can sing here? In front of someone who actually cares about you?"

Sawyer clenched his jaw. "People who love others usually don't go out of their way to torture them."

Of all things, Sawyer had to bring that up.

Rowan sighed heavily. He really thought that they were making progress, but apparently that wasn't the case. Sawyer was just getting more defiant by the day. Rowan needed to do something about it, but it seemed like Sawyer became immune to his typical punishments. If only he could just bash in the brains of one of those friends Sawyer talked nonstop about.

The more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. If he killed one of Sawyer's friends, maybe he could learn a lesson about gratitude.

Then maybe he could finally forget all about that life and live in the one where he belonged with him.

That bartender--Lucien, he think his name was--was definitely a suitable option. He knew him and Sawyer were close, they always shot witty quips back at each other at Indigo. It filled Rowan with rage every time he watched their interactions.

He always had a feeling that bastard wanted Sawyer in more than just a friendly way. He didn't miss the way those dark eyes swept over his beloved every time he was on stage.

The more he thought about Lucien, the angrier he got. His hands tightened around the handle of his cup so hard it almost broke.

Rowan downed the rest of the tea like a shot. "If you keep this behavior up, Sawyer, I think we're both gonna regret it," he warned. Sawyer simply rolled his eyes in response. He didn't take Rowan seriously, and that pissed him off.

Part of Rowan was bluffing. He didn't like the thought of killing someone unless absolutely necessary, but... maybe this was necessary.

It wouldn't take too much effort to get to him. The bartender was not only scrawny, but even shorter than Sawyer. That made him the perfect victim.

He didn't try to hide his malicious smile. "Have it your way."

...

The next two weeks were somehow even more of a struggle than before. Rowan really thought Sawyer would have time to think over his vague threat, but it seemed like nothing affected him anymore. Sawyer had given up completely, and it hurt Rowan to see him that way. But what made it worse was the fact that Sawyer hadn't eaten in a week, and it didn't look like he planned on doing it any time soon.

Rowan was considering going back on his idea to murder Sawyer's friend, but the last straw happened just a few hours ago.

"You need to eat," Rowan insisted. He pushed Sawyer's plate in front of him. "I made your favorite."

Sawyer blinked at him tiredly. "I don't wanna."

Rowan ground his teeth. He tried so hard to remain patient for him, but all of that was quickly wearing off. He always considered himself a patient man, but it seemed as though Sawyer made him snap in more ways than one.

"Please, sweetheart. Just a few bites?" Sawyer remained silent, even having the gall to scoff at him. "This is for your own good, love. If you don't eat--"

"What? You're gonna beat me again?" Sawyer cut him off with a sharp tone. He couldn't hold back a dry, sarcastic laugh. "I'm over it, so go ahead." He propped his chin in his hand, his expression so cold it sent shivers down Rowan's spine.

"I was going to say you'll need to be put on a feeding tube." Rowan's voice was even, but Sawyer could sense anger bordering in his words. "Do you really want that?"

Sawyer huffed. "No, but I'm sure you'd be into that, right?" He saw a twitch of rage in his face and he smiled triumphantly. "Go on. Tell me about how it's for my own good. You love to hear yourself talk, right?" Rowan glared at him. "You spout the same shit every day, I have it all memorized! I can't tell if you're delusional or in denial, so I don't even know what it'll take to get it through your head that I hate you!"

He slammed his fist down on the table, hitting the edge of the plate and sending the contents flying off it.

After the shatter of the glass resounded the kitchen, the room became silent. Sawyer stared at the mess he made, then to the stunned Rowan across the table.

He swallowed hard, his stomach churning at the realization he may have gone a little far this time.

Sawyer always knew when to toe the line, when to push Rowan just enough to where he felt justified in his actions. But he'd never outright provoked him like that.

"Well," Rowan started. Sawyer couldn't see his face, but he heard the venom dripping in his words. "You've done it now."

And now, with Sawyer tied up and gagged back in the shed, Rowan decided he was done stalling.

It took almost three hours just to get into the city again, but it was worth it when he recognized the familiar street that led to Indigo. He pulled over by an alley, parking so his car was out of view. His timing was great, since he subconsciously memorized Lucien's schedule after memorizing Sawyer's, given he used to visit Indigo practically every day.

Lucien was smoking out back. Perfect. He went to the trunk and took out his gun, along with a few other supplies that he brought just in case.

The alley was deserted, but Rowan needed to work fast just in case some other staff member decided to join him.

"Hey," he called out as he approached. Lucien jumped and turned around.

The man looked up at him after brushing some of his own dirty blond hair out from his face. His brow furrowed, looking Rowan up and down. He didn't recognize him, clearly. Good.

"Hi?" Lucien paused. "Can I help you?"

Rowan smiled. "Yes, as a matter of fact." He leaned in close and used the little space between them to shove the muzzle of his gun into his stomach. "You're going to follow me and not say a word. Right?" Lucien stuttered in surprise, but managed to nod. "Good, now let's go." He nudged him with the weapon to show him where to go, which was back to his car.

Once they got there, Rowan unlocked the trunk and gestured to it. "Get in." He didn't expect the smaller man to climb in with no issues, but he didn't complain about it either.

It almost made Rowan feel sympathy for the guy, seeing him squished into the trunk. But that went away once he remembered who he was.

He was quick to tie him up and then slammed the trunk closed. He glanced around to make sure no one saw him, then climbed into the driver's seat. He wasted no time peeling out of the alley and speeding back to his lakehouse, where he was happy to dispose of him.

Rowan wasn't a sadistic man (at least that's what he convinced himself of) but he had no problem making sure Sawyer knew what he was capable of.

Sawyer was already devastated when he killed that random guy who tried to help him out. Even though it broke his heart terrifying his darling so much, he was still hoping this would teach him a lesson.

Maybe that time it didn't, but this one would surely be the nail in the coffin.

Rowan pulled in the driveway and cut off the engine. He stepped out, opened the trunk, and hauled the screaming bartender onto his shoulder. The bastard thrashed and kicked, but Rowan just held him tighter. He managed to slam the trunk closed while still holding his writhing captive. He stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him with his foot.

"I don't know what I did to you, but I'm sorry," he pathetically shrieked. Tears poured from his eyes. "You- you don't have to do this. We can talk about this!"

It was amusing how quickly his tough guy persona was dropped. Every time Rowan had seen him, he was always flexing his nonexistent muscles and acting all confident.

Now he was a sniveling mess, begging for his life.

Rowan opened the door to the basement, where he would've put Sawyer if not for what he was about to do. He threw the man down the stairs and left the room to retrieve Sawyer.

Sawyer was asleep when he opened the shed with a loud creak. He looked so beautiful when he was sleeping, he always had.

His eyes slowly fluttered open, then widened when he noticed Rowan standing over him. He tried to say something through the gag, but Rowan made no attempt to try to understand him. Right now, he didn't care what he was saying.

He picked up Sawyer and carried him inside, and to the basement. The man at the bottom of the stairs started crying harder as soon as he spotted Sawyer, and Sawyer returned the gesture.

Rowan sat Sawyer on the floor, much more gently than he did with Lucien. He removed the gag from his mouth.

"Lucien!" Sawyer wailed. He tried crawling over to him, but he didn't get very far. "Fuck... fuck..." He fell forward on his face, squirming in an attempt to escape his binds. "You motherfucker! What is wrong with you?!" This was the angriest he had ever sounded. But Rowan, who knew Sawyer better than anyone, knew he was more scared than anything.

But sometimes things like this needed to be done. Just a bit of tough love.

"Sawyer?" Lucien's voice broke. "Are you okay? What did he do to you?" His gaze flickered to the bruises littering his skin. Sawyer didn't answer. His shoulders shook violently.

Rowan stood by and watched with a blank face. "I thought you already learnt what I'm capable of, but I guess you need a reminder. Do you still hate me, my love?"

He didn't respond. Sawyer's breathing was harsh, tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled into a ball as much as possible with his hands bound behind him.

"Sawyer--" Lucien started.

"Shut the fuck up!" Rowan snapped at Lucien, silencing him. He grasped his gun out of his coat and pointed it at him.

He paused when he felt something on his shoe. Rowan glanced down to see Sawyer had crawled over to him, his body pressed against his legs. He was shaking like a leaf and giving him a teary-eyed expression, one Rowan was admittedly weak to.

"Please," he choked out. "Please don't kill him... please... I don't hate you, I love you, just let him go..."

Rowan adjusted his grip on the gun. He wanted to believe him, but he wasn't that stupid, especially after being fooled by him once. "You're a good actor, darling, but my heart can't take being deceived again. You've played with it enough. It didn't have to be this way."

Despite his words, Sawyer sobbed in relief when Rowan tucked the gun away. It didn't end there. He pulled something else out of his coat. It was a small but undoubtedly sharp switchblade. He grasped Lucien by the collar of his dress shirt, pulling him up so he could plunge the knife into his stomach, all the way down to the hilt. The action was met with an agonized cry from both of them.

Sawyer's eyes were so wide, so full of terror. Rowan could hear him begging, but couldn't care less in the moment.

He twisted the knife in his gut, watching blood seep past his fingers and soak through his clothes. Lucien's cries echoed around the room, incoherent and garbled. Rowan threw him to the ground.

"No more!" Sawyer blubbered, "please, no more, please! I'll do whatever you want! I'll never complain again, I'll never fight you again! Please!" He shrieked loudly, a scream so strong that his voice broke, turning into nothing but a raspy squeal.

At first, Rowan was about to say 'fuck no' and finish gutting him like a fish. He then thought over his words. He was still going to kill Lucien, no doubt about that, but...

"Whatever I want," he mused. "You'll say yes if I propose? Sleep with me? Let me touch you without complaint?" Sawyer nodded so furiously his head nearly flew off. That was a reaction that satisfied him. "And if you go back on your promise, I'll bring you his head. Do you understand that?" Another rapid nod. "Okay. I want you to remember your deal with me. I'd hate for you to think I'm bluffing."

Sawyer cried into the cold ground as Rowan dragged Lucien off, with the promise of taking him to a hospital.

Little did Sawyer know, Rowan buried him in the backyard.

[happiness-of-the-pursuit]

Six Sentence Line Sunday

Hi, I'm late again. I did a lot more beta reading than writing this weekend, and also did myself dirty by drinking way too much coffee today which resulted in a stomach ache in a big way. Once the nausea receded and the fics were betaed, I finally wrote some words. Like five minutes ago, so, you know, not edited.

Here's six lines from Working Title: Daddy Issues:

“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” Henry says. “Now I know who to contact for embarrassing stories and the like.” Raf grins as Alex scoffs. “Please, June’s already got that covered.” “You can never have too many,” Raf argues. “Plus, there’s that time you called me asking about STD test centers—" “Fuck off, that was fucking terrifying,” Alex complains, though his smile still stretches across his face. Raf ignores him. “I was about to start the Ave María. I just knew Oscar was going to put some kind of curse on me for being a bad Gay Guide for not talking to you about testing earlier. Gracias a Dios, we both learned about allergic reactions to flavored condoms—” “O-kay, that’s enough,” Alex says, laughing. He looks to Henry, his face slightly bashful, as if to check that he’s not completely horrified. 

Tags and thanks below the cut :)

Thanks for the tags @littlemisskittentoes @suseagull04 @benwvatt @nocoastposts @itsmaybitheway @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @magicandarchery @getmehighonmagic @leaves-of-laurelin @kiwiana-writes!!

In case anyone wants to slide in late (or use this for another day this week, honestly pick one, especially if you posted and I missed it) I'm tagging @affectionatelyrs @cactusdragon517 @cultofsappho @eusuntgratie @gayrootvegetable @gay-flyboys @jackzimmermemes @juloviz @leojfitz @msmarvelouswinchester @read-and-write- @rockyroadkylers @rmd-writes @ships-to-sail @sherryvalli @user-anakin @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged @xthelastknownsurvivorx @zwiazdziarka :)

[latibvles]

29) a miniskirt for viv

A MINISKIRT.

my spooky season contribution. Jennifer Check-costume viv my beloved ♡ more frat boys au for who that celebrate — sorority halloween bash. Viv's got great legs, thank varsity volleyball

—

Josie’s sitting on the counter in the kitchen, dappling blood carefully onto Viv’s chin when the doorbell rings for what wouldn’t be the last time tonight. She doesn’t even have to speak before Harrie, in all her donkey-esque glory heads over to get it with an affectionate “Hey ya’ll! Party’s downstairs!” before guiding them into the thoroughly decorated basement of the sorority house.

Josie’s humming as she works. The fake blood’s cold on Viv’s chin.

“Did you invite Rosie?” She asks curiously, watching how Josie’s face flushes, brightening her already pinkened cheeks. She looks away for a moment, saying nothing. Her eyes fall to the plastic crown on the counter. Viv feels the realization hit all at once. “Holy fuck, he’s Cosmo.”

Josie laughs, nervous energy radiating off of her.

“He said Harry was already matching with Ev and Dougie and… and he didn’t know what to come as so I figured—”

“No no, don’t explain yourself. I see what you’re doing here. Let me know when Poof’s in the picture, okay?” Josie balks at her for a moment, and Viv laughs at that when the girl bows her head into its resting on the shoulder of Viv’s equally as bloodied puffer jacket. Like she’s playing the world’s most flustered game of peek-a-boo, a fact that further perpetuates Viv’s inability to stop laughing. Behind them, someone clears their throat, and Viv’s delighted at the sight. Rosie’s in a white button down, skinny black tie and black pants. His curls are dark green, a little bit of cheap PartyCity hairspray staining the skin near his hairline. He smiles, bordering-on-shy, and Viv almost wants to laugh at how he fluctuates from chatty to quiet depending on the company.

Or maybe this thing was especially reserved for Jo.

Rosie gives Viv a once over and an approving nod.

“Killing people?” he asks. Viv snorts.

“Killing boys,” She tugs at the denim miniskirt hugging her curves, pulling it down just a little bit as she peels away from Jo. “Thanks Josie, see you in a minute.” She gives her a wink that Rosie can’t see, snickering to herself when Josie flushes, reaching for one of the small pairs of wings on the counter.

Viv makes her way towards the stairs to the basement, doused in red light from the light filters they put over the lightbulbs. She’s pretty sure June’s the one handling music tonight — she hears Fern, loud as anything through the din once Calling All the Monsters starts playing: “Curt, c’mere— I’ll give him back in a minute, Art, it’s my song!” There’s flashes of a camera where they’d set up a white sheet and cheap props they found on their shopping trip; Benny’s sandwiched between Carrie and June. The Wolfman, Shrek, and a pirate respectively.

She zeroes in on Willie — Bob Ross — and Gale — a cowboy — and waves as she approaches. Willie hands off a cup of cloudy white liquid with edible glitter: Lorraine’s concoction. She called it ghost juice. It tastes a little citrusy and Viv only feels the tingle of alcohol in the aftertaste. Leave it to Lorraine to make something deceptive enough that their usual culprits won’t even realize they’re in the bush until it happens.

“Missing somebody?” she asks, and Gale just chuckles with a slight jerk of his head that has Viv turning her head. She grins, rolling her eyes as Bucky weaves his way through everybody, a foot taller than most of the people here. “I stand corrected.”

“Britney played and we didn’t see him for a solid thirty minutes after that,” Willie supplies, which makes Viv laugh again. Even under the red light she can see the ruddiness to Bucky’s flushed cheeks, his pilot suit zipped down a little bit to expose the white t-shirt beneath — aviator glasses perched in dark, sweaty curls.

“Viv!” he shouts before he sees her, like it isn’t her house.

“Hi,” she waves with her fingers, and he’s pulling her into a slightly sweaty hug before releasing. It’s then that he looks up, then down, and up again. Willie lightly taps her foot with her own, subtle enough to convey the ‘you seeing this?’ that she isn’t saying with words. Bucky runs a hand over her mouth, gaze trained on her exposed legs. She figures that he’s probably halfway-to-tipsy already, but she still can’t help but preen at the admiration. “Missed me?” she teases.

“Something like that.” Bucky counters, and the way he snaps out of his staring makes her laugh again.

[yanny-77]

I Don't Feel Safe with You Anymore

"What makes a dragon abandon her rider?" It's been five days since the Battle of Basgiath and Xaden still hasn't heard from Sgaeyl. The dragon left the college, needing time and distance to reflect on and process the changes to their bond since Xaden reached for power. Xaden is determined to give her that space, even as his magic drains the longer she stays away. He fights the urge to channel from the earth with everything he has but being a rider, his body is no longer compatible with life without magic. He can wait for her to come back. He can hold out. The alternative is unthinkable.

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: F/M Fandom: The Empyrean - Rebecca Yarros Relationships: Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail, Xaden Riorson & Sgaeyl, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson, Xaden Riorson & Garrick Tavis, Xaden Riorson & Jack Barlowe Characters: Xaden Riorson, Violet Sorrengail, Sgaeyl (Empyrean), Garrick Tavis, Bodhi Durran, Jack Barlowe Additional Tags: POV Xaden Riorson, Post-Book 2: Iron Flame (Empyrean), Venin (Empyrean), Venin Xaden, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, Primary Riorgail, Secondary Imrrick, Secondary Bodoc, Xaden's Choice, Violet really fucking loves Xaden, So at least he's got that going for him Tasteful Smut in chapter 3

Publishing Schedule:

Chapter 1 - May 23rd

Chapter 2 - May 30th

Chapter 3 - June 6th

Chapter 4 - June 13th

Chapter 5 - June 20th

I had an angst prompt for the Fourth Wing Birthday Bash hosted by @skyfallscotland and @justallihere

Thanks to @creativepromptsforwriting for the prompt.

[sweetlikesunflowersandhoney]

1. Fairytale

From the june prompts. Set in the "accidental baby acquisition" au.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

For a decade, Anetra did not have a semblance of a sleep schedule, and that was how she liked it. She made her own hours, she was her own man. It meant she could go out in the middle of the week and get fucked up, then sleep it off until past noon and wake up fresh as a lettuce, knowing she had all night to catch up on work. That was the life.

And now here she is, eleven pm and exhausted already, struggling not to fall asleep in her baby sister’s tiny bed, again. It’s so bad for her back.

“Milena, please, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I’m uncomfortable,” Milena complains, tossing and turning under the sheets.

She’s already asked for a glass of water, an extra blanket, a story, but nothing’s working tonight.

“Alright, wanna read another book?” Anetra attempts, rubbing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Goodnight Moon? The Very Hungry Caterpillar? The Cat in the Hat?”

Milena shakes her head at all the options. She’s quickly getting bored of the small collection of books she has, since they need to read at least two every night before she can fall asleep. Anetra should take her to a bookstore soon. That would make a good Saturday. God, she’s gotten so lame.

“Can you tell me a story? A new story.”

“What kind of story? A fairytale?” Milena nods and turns to face Anetra, expectant, curling her hands under her cheek.

“‘Kay. Hm.” Her eyes keep closing on their own. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a princess– no, a queen, ‘cause she had a crown and stuff.”

“Princesses have crowns,” Milena informs her.

And then, Anetra feels tiny hands and feet dig into her body as Milena climbs over her to get down from the bed and go to her costume trunk.

“No, Mile, it’s late, buddy, it’s bedtime,” Anetra says, sitting up. “Come lay down.”

Milena obeys, like always, but she managed to find a tiara and she puts it on as she goes. Anetra sets her in bed again, but then Milena can’t lay down comfortably with the plastic tiara, and when she tries to take it off, she finds it got tangled in her hair and it hurts when she pulls on it. Anetra tries but doesn’t fare better, and Milena’s almost at the point of tears when Sasha appears on the doorframe like she knows she’s needed.

“What’s going on, girls?”

“I can’t take it off,” Milena explains in a wobbly voice.

“Oh, baby.”

Sasha sits at the foot of the bed and reaches for Milena, who immediately leaves Anetra’s side for Sasha’s. Quickly and painlessly, Sasha detangles the tiara from Milena’s hair without pulling on it once. Just another item in the long list of evidence that Sasha is magical in Anetra’s head.

Sasha kisses the top of Milena’s head and they get her under the covers again.

“Can you stay until I’m asleep? Netra’s going to tell us a story!”

“Really?” Sasha asks with too much mirth.

Anetra rolls her eyes and pats the bed, and Sasha lays down so that Milena is in the middle. Her fingers thread through Milena’s hair, and Anetra starts the story again.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a queen with a crown– though princesses can have crowns, too,” Anetra corrects herself before Milena does.

Milena nods approvingly and scoots back into Sasha’s arms, finally relaxing.

“The queen was beautiful, with dark hair and green eyes, and she gave the warmest hugs.” Anetra waits for Sasha to catch on and give her that bashful smile she loves so much. “She also had the prettiest smile.”

Sasha shoves her shoulder for that one, then goes back to playing with Milena’s hair. The queen in the story goes through odd adventures and befriends forest creatures and engages in general queen-ness, and by the time she gets her true love’s kiss, Milena is sound asleep.

“Do you wanna stay over?” Anetra whispers to Sasha on the other side of the pillow.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s late. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch. You need to sleep on a mattress, old lady.”

“Oh, and you think you’re chicken? Who’s the one falling asleep before midnight?”

“The same person who got woken up at six by a tiny creature staring at me from my bedside. I almost had a heart attack.”

Sasha muffles her giggles on the pillow, and Anetra thinks she couldn’t even dream up a queen more beautiful than her.

[owmylasagna-blog]

Method to my Ed-ness

Clearing his throat, Eddy jabbed the sharp corner of the plastic dollar store case into the breast bone of Double Dee’s sunken sternum.

“What is -”

“What’s it look like?”

Edd examined the familiar receptacle, flipping the flimsy item in his hands. Through the clear cover he could see the Sharpie scrawl of his friend’s handwriting directly on the mirrored surface of the compact disc: “Eddy’s Summer Jams” in all capital letters at the top, the songs numbered and written in concentric circles filled the remaining space.

Meanwhile, try as he might to maintain a cool, casual demeanor, Eddy disguised his nerves by shoving his hands deep into his oversized pockets. His gaze locked onto the Peach Creek High ceiling with the same apathy as reruns of Gilligan’s Island but his heart was thumping at a frenetic pace. That concentration was broken, however, by a snivel.

“Oh Eddy…”

Double Dee’s lower lip quivered. The CD case creaked as his grip tightened.

“Jeez. Don’t -”

The shorter teen winced, second-hand embarrassment creeping up his spine. Not that Edd’s sudden emotional outbursts were a new thing, just that Eddy never quite figured out the right way to respond.

“Why I- Should I have known we we were exchanging gifts I’d have -”

Eddy threw an arm over Edd’s shoulders. His amused chuckle reverberated through the physical contact in a way that only Eddy could ground Edd.

“Gifts? Cool your jets. It’s just a playlist.”

True, the item itself was quite simple. But Double Dee could discern the generous and meticulous care put into it. Coming from Eddy, it meant a whole lot. Composing himself, the more outwardly sentimental of the two clutched the case tight over his heart with a smile.

“Regardless, I’ll cherish the thoughtful curation you’ve no doubtably given it.”

The teens’ eyes met. Eddy smiled too because, yeah, maybe he had spent a few extra hours scouring various studio recordings, remasters, and live album renditions for several of the songs. And maybe, just maybe, this was the second CD he’d burned because he’d rushed the first one, leaving sloppy smudges in the Sharpie before it had completely dried. This was worth getting right.

“Don’t sweat it, Jonny. That rash will clear up in no time. Over and out!” A distinctly recognizable voice echoed down the hall.

The gangly teen waved, turned, and sluggishly made his way down the hallway in their direction. Wide pant legs swished and vestigial suspenders jingled with each step.

“Boy am I glad to see you guys. Jonny was just showing me -” Ed paused, his heavy-lidded eyes landing on Double Dee’s occupied hands. He blinked, then frowned, the muscles in his face firing in slow motion. It was clear from both his countenance and stench that he’d just come from toking up the janitor's closet.

“Secret Santa already?”

Eddy detached from the half embrace. “It’s June,” he huffed before slamming his back into the lockers.

“Likely story,” Ed chuckled. “Then whatcha got there?”

It was an odd, new feeling - getting bashful with Ed - nascent much like the more emotional and intimate turn two-thirds of their trio had taken in the past year. Never-the-less the two slightly-more-than-friends felt their cheeks blaze at the question. Eddy glanced up at Edd who stared down at the burned CD, watching bony fingers moving timidly over his work. His heart skipped as the reality hit that Double Dee was actually going to listen to the thing.

Edd swallowed and offered a sheepish grin. “A melodic memento from Eddy, is all.”

“It’s nothin’,” Eddy downplayed with a shrug.

“Do I get one too?” asked Ed. If Eddy didn’t know better it sure sounded like Ed was teasing him.

He scoffed. “What are ya- No. I’m stuck with ya all summer, remember?”

A wave of solemnity washed over Ed’s entire demeanor at the reminder of Double Dee’s upcoming departure and now his utter lack of Eddy-crafted playlist to fill the void.

“One is a number divided by two.”

“Sure is, Nilsson,” sighed Eddy, crossing his arms. He lifted a knee, planting a foot against the painted metal. A steely clang followed as the chunky hardware store wallet chain slid off the thigh of his jean shorts.

In the minor lul, a pang of guilt hit Edd. Had he really had an option in the matter? Vision unfocused, he raked his raw thumb nail over the ribbed side of the CD case. Meanwhile, Ed had fully engaged his favorite weapons: a pair of big brown bovine puppy-dog eyes.

“No CD for Ed?”

“Go screw!” Eddy’s voice cracked from pitching it up.

A pathetic pout contorted the sallow face of Eddy’s eldest friend. Beside him, Double Dee rolled his eyes - holding back a knowing chuckle behind a wavering grin. The teen in the beany tisked, a brow seemingly raising beneath the knit fabric that obscured them.

“A suspicious amount of protest for what you’ve insisted is merely a frivolous, inconsequential collection of songs. Surely it would be no trouble at all to orchestrate such a banal arrangement again. Isn’t that so, Eddy?”

Between the guilt tripping and the chiding, Eddy was just about fed up. He locked stubborn stares with Double Dee, not broken even by Ed practically perching himself on Edd’s shoulders and knodding with enthusiastic agreement.

“You little…” with a snarl, the fleshy back of Eddy’s head thunked against the metal lockers with a solid thud. “Whatever. Someone’s gotta make sure you two have good taste.”

Through his reflection, Edd watched as a blur of verdant roadside overgrowth passed. It had been a quiet ride so far with the exception of a riveting public radio segment about elderly drivers playing at a polite volume. It would be another hour before they reached the destination of the month-long pre-college STEM program for high schoolers he would be starting tomorrow.

An unfortunate ramification of stubborn motion sickness was the inability to busy himself reading. When Edd was younger, mother and father would engage him in word games and educational songs to distract him from the nausea. It seemed everyone in the car had aged out of this sort of activity. Silence wasn’t anything new.

For this reason, Edd had amassed a fairly robust CD collection of audiobooks and a spattering of instrumental albums. Leafing through the case, rapidly passing through the compendium of discs for several works of classical fiction and nonfiction alike, Edd sought out his most recent addition.

Eddy’s Summer Jams.

A cursory scan of the song titles only made apparent Edd’s pop culture illiteracy. Could artists with such names as Beenie Man prove promising? There was only one way to find out. Slipping the foam earpieces into place, the head strap clicked in succession until the fit was just right.

Click. The inner workings lifted the CD player lid open. Snap. In went Eddy’s playlist. As it spun, the handwritten script blurred through the viewport on top.

For all the time Edd knew his friend, and all the times spent listening to vintage records in his bachelor’s den of a bedroom, he could anticipate what the opening song might sound like. Bombastic brass? Thrumming bass? Uptempo disco rhythms?

However, what Double Dee heard instead was something more gentle. Unrushed steady drums accompanied by staccato, dare-say timid, bass strumming in time. Then, an enchanting voice joined. If this was all an unexpected choice, it was the lyrics that soon had Eddward frozen in disbelief in the back seat of father’s compact sedan. Edd had always known music was an outlet of self expression for Eddy, but he was still left giddily unprepared for this. In an instant, the flustered teen yanked his shirt collar up to obscure the violent blush and massive smile that had taken over his face.

[hx4x4enthusiast]

Two sparks and a drumming heart

Part 1 (3233 words)

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/jorico/721903257373605888/chapter-2-1560-words-warmth-covered-my-sore-body?source=share

Ship: Optimus x gender-neutral reader x Ratchet 

Fic category: hurt/comfort 

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Depression, mention of past suicide attempt,

“Speech”

-Commlink conversation-

kursiv=thought

It was a calm Friday at the base, the kids finally got the permission from their parents, Fowler and Optimus to have a sleepover all weekend long. Difference all the kids sleep with their guardians, and I will sleep n the main area.

 You see everyone has a guardian, a protector of sorts, they pick you up from school protect you from the Decepticons spent time with you while you teach them about earth and humans. For example, Arcee is Jacks Guardian, Bulkhead protects Miko meanwhile Raf has Bumblebee as his Guardian and I well, I can take care of myself, always has always will and that is fine. Believe me I can understand Optimus is the leader of the Autobots he already knows all about Earth and humans a top of that he has the burden of an entire planet and war on his shoulder, meanwhile Ratchet constantly works from trying to help with scientific advancements to give constant medical services.

 Ratchet is a medic to be more precise the medical officer of the Autobots, and probably the person that loathes me the most. And I tried to befriend him, or at least be on civil speaking terms (like June), with him but every time I try, it seems the opposite happens. Some people just don’t get along with others. And I would stay out his way believe me I can take a hint. My other half guardian would be Optimus he is the leader. He is civil with everyone, and kind of the only bot Ratchet is willing to listen to. He is nice we, on the rare occasion he has time, talk about books. But well Optimus is the Autobot leader and a Prime he doesn’t have time for a small human like me, which is absolutely understandable, I mean he carries the weight of the fate of our planet and the future of his planet on his shoulder. While simultaneously being a strong leader for his team and fighting in a war. Problem they are my guardians, well half guardians, they sometimes just drive me home or well bridges me there. But seeing the other kids with their guardians does make me miss something I wish I had, but that’s just me being silly. And I have my ways to deal with these thoughts and feelings.

 Shaking myself out of those thoughts I look at the time and realize the kids are not going to be back soon. Jack and Arcee were on Patrol, Raf and Bumblebee were out as well probably racing and finally, Miko and Bulkhead are out dune bashing. Realizing I have the bathroom to myself I grab my bag and move into the direction of the shower.

 We all had bags in the base with back up clothes, sleeping bags and basic hygiene products after one-to-many incidence that ended in us needing a change of clothes or having a spontaneously sleepover. And I was in desperate need of a shower.

 Infront of the bathroom we put an old locker where we could put our stuff, the locks were Jacks idea to make the locker Miko-proof. After I took my clothes and shower out of my locker, I checked the floor to check for anyone in the hallway. Knowing it was empty I rummaged through my bag to get to a small cardboard box buried under my clothes. Having the little box in my hands I pull out one of the wrapped articles an put the box back into its hiding spot. Having the utensil concealed underneath my clothes I give one last look into the hallway before stepping into the the room with the showers and putting my clothes into the designated spot. I start to strip out of my clothes, and leave them on the floor, they are a problem for future me. Taking my shampoo, bodywash, towel and the still wrapped object I proceed into the actual shower. The warm water on my skin feels like heaven and I release a shaky breath.

 There are several reasons in my opinion why showers are great. But the biggest is probably that a shower washes everything away like stress, exhaustion, tears, and blood. Though I suppose for most people they are just a way to get clean. In the background of my brain my thoughts are continuing their philosophy about humans and shower time. While I watch fascinated, with the occasional sharp sting on my lower arm, as red mixes with the clear water and goes down the drain. I glance to my arm and see my dominate hand holding the now unwrapped blade while continuously slitting red lines into my skin. The little red drops don’t even have time to form as they are immediately washed away. It has been some time since I last did this. When did I last cut myself, it was probably a few weeks before I met the Autobots. Right, I wanted to kill myself on the day I met the Autobots but couldn’t go through with it because The Decepticons attacked me before I could begin. And since then, I didn’t find the time. Oh, right I should go back before someone tries to find me. No one should see me this way.

 Quickly washing my hair and body, while being careful around my wound, I turned off the shower and dried myself up, carefully dipping around the wound, it was a good decision to buy black towels.  After throwing on a hoodie and a pair of short sweatpants I clean up after me and leave the shower, stuffing the wrapping paper and blade into my hoodie, to dispose of them later. After gripping my bag and putting it back into my locker, I slowly start to trot back to the others.

 The main room came into view, mentally preparing myself for the social flood I take a deep breath and step into the room. Only to find nothing, or more like no one, the room is empty. The human area is missing Jack, Miko as well as Raph and even Arcee, Bumblebee along with Bulkhead are missing. Only Ratchet and Optimus are on the computers no doubt calculating and strategizing the future of the Autobots. Having just taken a few steps into the room both of them suddenly freeze which is concerning. After they scan the room for whatever it is that unsettles both their optics land nearly contemporaneous on me.

 “Uhm are you okay should, should I leave, I can go no Problem I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Do you know where the menaces are I wou-.”

“You are injured.”

“What?”

“You are injured.”

  I blinked my mind trying to process onto what is happening. While Ratchets observation is not wrong, how did he know? Does Optimus know? He looks just as shocked as Ratchet. Wait do they know? Know what I did? No, they can’t that’s not possible. But they are aliens, with high tech and Ratchet is essential a doctor. My body erupts into goosebumps, and I have a full body shiver. Which tears me out of my thoughts. Just in time to see Ratchets green arm scanner disappearing and him looking at the apparent scan results. Looking up it’s like some turned a switch around and he is in doctor mode.

 “You have multiple incisions on your underarm. The next steps are to clean the wound and wrap it up to keep the wounds from getting infected and help with the healing process. Now follow me to the med bay so that I can ensure the appropriate treatment of the wounds and check if there are incisions that need stitching.”

 I look shell shocked between Optimus and Rachet. Unable to react.

 “Well, what are you waiting for the faster you receive medical treatment the lesser the chance of infection.”

 One thought crosses my thought. -If Ratchet takes me to the med bay he will see the wound, if he sees the wounds, he wants to know how they came to be. Then I must explain, then they will now that I am a useless wreck, and they should abandon me. - Scared of the reaction that will follow the reveal of the reasons behind my scars I do the only thing, sensible to me at that moment. I turn tail and bolt out of the room into maze which are the corridors of the old missile silo. Followed by an angry shout.

 “You better come back here right this nanocycle, or so help you, Primus!”

 The floor feels like it is vibrating and the muffled sound of something solid hitting the ground repeatedly, changes to fast approaching vehicles. A Blur of red and white speeds past me, I collied with solid metal. A Ambulance is parked right in front of me. The ambulance belongs to a medic, a medic which patient just went AWOL and not only tried to escape treatment but also him. Doing a 180 is met with yet another collision, this time though the metal adorns a red-blue colour scheme and the vehicle changes from an ambulance to a semi-truck. Both ways blocked by vehicles and surrounded by thick concrete walls that are enclosing rapidly.

 “What is wrong with you? What happened back there?”

 “Little Archivist?”

 A high-pitched tone goes through my ears and my hands instinctively cover them, only for my chest to feel like someone laid multiple rocks on my lungs. Rapidly trying to take deep breath to get oxygen in my lungs doesn’t seem to work and my vision starts to blur. The feeling of a calm deep baritone voice starts to slowly blend the high-pitched noise out. while the feeling of warmth and something smooth encircles me. Drawing small patterns onto the metallic looking appendage start to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts.

 “You are safe our little archivist, everything’s going to be alright, we are here.”

“Can I come closer? Is it okay if I touch you?”

 Looking up I am met with the concerned optics of Ratchet. I nod and slowly the feeling of something warm and smooth encircles me. And I find myself sitting in a metal servo with a cybertronian equivalent of a thumb gently draped over my legs Drawing small patterns onto the metal appendage furthers the process to pacify the wind whirl in my thoughts. And I feel a light draft from being slowly lifted, as Ratchet starts to slowly right himself to his full hight. Optimus slowly makes his way over to us with careful steps, like one would do when faced with a scared animal.

 “Little Archivist, are you back with us?”

 Looking up to Optimus I nod, his faceplate shows the same feelings as Ratchet. Confusion, Concern and behind the two one could see fear.

 “We won’t discuss or ask about what transpired if you don’t feel ready for that conversation.”

“But I do need to take of your wounds. I won’t ask any question related to how you got them, in exchange you will go with us to the med bay and let me take care of the injury.”

“And after the medbay you will stay within both see and hearing distance of either me or Ratchet, which includes recharge which we will do once Ratchet has checked you, over. Do you agree to our condition?”

 I nod unsure and confused on what else I could do. Ratchet carefully curls his servo around me and we move into the direction of the medbay. No one saying a thing.

  As Ratchet walks through the doors of the medbay Optimus directly behind us closes the doors and moves to the side of the berth Ratchet carefully put me on. A series of clicks later two mass-displaced cybertronians are sitting next to me. As Ratchet makes a move to inspect my arm, I get startled out of my vegetive state and recoil back. Right into Optimus. Gently he lifts me up like I weigh nothing and deposit me into his lap. One servo circles around my midsection and remains there light enough to not make me feel trapped but still secure enough to give comfort and be grounding. All the while laying his other servo on my head and tenderly guiding my head to his chest plate right above his spark.  The sound of his spark giving me something to focus on, as I lean against him.

 “Your safe little archivist, we are here, we want to help you.”

The deep rumble of Optimus voice and the warmth of his chassis made me snuggle closer to him.  

 “He is right little spark, would it be ok if I touch you? I want to take a closer look at your wounds.”

 Looking up at Ratchet I saw the gentle look upon his faceplate, being reassured by his words and voice.  I slowly uncurled my arm and hold it out for Ratchet, my scars on full display for both cybertronians to see. Both silent as Ratchet inspects the scars and starts getting the supplies, he needs to clean the incisions, from his human med bag that I only notice now.

 “I am going to disinfect the wound now, little spark. This may sting a little.”

 Hissing as the alcohol-soaked cotton ball hit my wounds was the only thing I could really do, with the firm grip Optimus and Ratchet had. I couldn’t escape or really move my limbs, though I weirdly didn’t feel trapped, it felt comfortable, it felt safe. After cleaning up the wounds, Ratchet put some ointment onto aid in the healing process and started wrapping up the arm, while continuing to hold my arm in the strong hold. Ratchet took a deep vent, a human custom he adopted. And raised his helm util his optics met my eyes.

 “These incisions are very clean, like they were created with a sharp object under the intension to cause harm.”

“A sharp object like a knife or a razor blade.”

 That sentenced from Optimus made me look up, only to see his gaze on a small metal object in his left servo that had previously held my head. I paled and try to escape only to realize Optimus had tighten his grip around my mid-section and Ratchet held my arm the same way Optimus held my mid-riff. Atop my legs were trapped between Ratchets thigh guards. It was clear that they both did this before and had no intension of letting me run away again.

 “No no, let me go. Please I won’t do it again I swear. Just please.”

 In hindsight I also could have tried to move a brick wall and would have been more successful. But in that moment my flight reflex complex was in full motion. Ratchet took that moment to ask the dreaded question.

 “Little Spark did you do it? We are not mad or disappointed, we won’t scream or judge you.”

“But we need to know if you hurt yourself, little archivist. We want to help but we can only do so if you let us.”

“You are important to us, we don’t…can’t lose you. Please talk to us.”

 Hearing their concern, I hesitantly looked up to see their optics on me. Fear and sadness edged onto both of their faceplates. Seeing the always confident leader of the Autobots and the consistently guarded medic be this vulnerable for me. They cared for me, the one always over, the third wheel made, the back-up friend, made me break. For the first time in a long time, I opened up to someone, let someone see my heart, see me. Not the carefully crafted persona made to please everyone. No, I showed them the real me the shattered person that fixed themselves with all-purpose glues and duct-tape. I always was pretty ugly when I cried.

 ­

As my crying ebbed down into silent little sobs and I realize my surroundings. I find myself in a hug, surrounded by warmth and seeing parts of an orange-white shoulder pad. Slowly the shoulder pad moved back to reveal a chassis with a helm and a face plate with a look of love, care and relief.

 “Now little spark, I say you need a good recharge, doctors’ orders.”

 I heard Optimus chuckle, at Ratchets attempt to hide his as he calls it “soft side”, as he lifts me up and into his arms. Causing me to yelp and latch onto Optimus due to the sudden movement. Causing another chuckle from Optimus and a small smirk from Ratchet.

 “I agree with him you need rest, little archivist. Besides I don’t think it is wise to go against a medic’s orders. Especially Ratchets”

“Can I get that in writing.”

 I couldn’t help myself and smiled, it was small and a little shaky, but it was real, the first one in a long time, that wasn’t forced. Turning back to his original size ratchet took Optimus with me in his arms into his servo and moved out of the medbay.

 “Where are we headed?”

“To our hab suite little spark. Because besides you there is another bot that hasn’t recharged in a few decacycles and desperately needs to shut down.

 Said bot kept quiet and didn’t acknowledge the hint Ratchet gave. Continuing the journey to the bot’s quarters while surrounded by Optimus warmth and with the gentle movement of Ratchet, my eyes felt heavy, and I couldn’t contain my yawning. The Adrenalin is probably leaving my body. Fighting against the exhaustion seemed useless as I grew more tired from minute to minute. Until sleep claimed me and I fell asleep in the arms of Optimus.

Feeling a sudden weigh on his shoulder the Prime carefully moved his helm to see their little human deep in recharge on in his arms. Feeling a small smile make his way onto his faceplate as he carefully readjusted his grip on the small human.

 -Ratchet it seems our little sparkmate, didn’t make it to our berth to fall into recharge. -

Ratchets gaze fell upon his Counjux to see the little human, in his arms, indeed had felt into recharge.

 -Well, are you surprised, after everything that happened today. I am just disappointed we didn’t notice it earlier. Then they wouldn’t have to suffer today. Who knows how long they already had to deal with this on their own. –

 Feeling the blame Ratchet put on himself through their spark bond. Optimus looked up to his Conjux.

 -Not you or I are to blame for not this. Though the situation my be dire it is good we have found out now before worse could happen. Now we are able to help, able to stand beside them to fight of their inner demons. –

-Always the poet, Optimus. But enough of the sentimental their will be more than enough time for that in the future. For now it’s time for recharge, both of you desperately need it. –

 Seeing they arrived at their shared hab suite. They end their commlink conversation, as Ratchet carefully deposits them on the berth. Optimus carefully lays the sleeping human in his arms down, before changing back to his original size and laying himself next to his conjux. Taking their little human between them. They share a little kiss before powering down to the sound of two sparks and a drumming heart.