#(also I did not stage this it's literally just after exiting my house i know I made that sound worse BAHAHA)

[zazikels]

MR HADES................WHAT ARE WE

Bonus:

[slashthrashandcrash]

Alright!! Let's say that the Other is pulled into the Fog, who would be the survivor counterpart to his killer? Option 1: Natalie, who he never kills and is now in an endless loop of cat and mouse with as well as other residents catching onto his obsession and only sparing her in the trials (maybe even going after killers who harm / kill her in their own trials). Option 2: Brooke, who is in a never-ending cycle of escape and be killed, and is always the target of the Other. (1 / 2)

Anon you're mind is simply so beautiful I want to live in it forever oh my god........................

First of all, can we acknowledge how absolutely bitchin' it would be to have a Hell Fest map??? Like if instead of being open in a themed field/neighborhood, it was all contained in a never ending haunted house maze????? I'd lose my mind. I would also lose my life several times because I have no sense of direction lmao.

God, both options are so good, especially with their angst potential. Because don't forget, The Other has kids, two of 'em. I can't imagine what additional damage that's going to do to his mind to know that they're abandoned and alone.

BUT LET'S START WITH OPTION ONE...I actually read a really similar fic for DBD Michael and Laurie! (inb4 anyone asks NO they were NOT siblings ofc he was just a slasher horny on main for a pretty girl). It's one of those observed patterns that people can be slow to pick up on simply because they can't believe it's real, and doubly so since there's plenty of survivors to rotate through. It's easy to use Nat as bait to lure The Other away for the survivors to escape first, just as easy as it is for The Other to use wounded survivors to lure Nat over to help so he can scoop her up himself. Yeah, he always lets her go at the exit and gets punished by The Entity for it, but he's pretty damn good in the other trails without Nat, so it all evens out.

It's also fun to imagine the downtime between trials, where Nat and The Other would have the option to leave their respective camps and roam around their designated "worlds" before the next game. Honestly, it feels like the cat and mouse never ends for Natalie, poor girl >:3c Nowhere she goes is safe from this psycho watching her. She almost prefers the trials when it's a random killer and she dies, because at least then she can appreciate the relief of being out of the hunt. But it also gives them a bit of time to become a little more...casual around each other. Nat's going to have to cycle through her stages of grief and eventually accept her new reality, where at least there's one killer that isn't looking to gut her. She's not happy still, but at least she doesn't flinch away anymore when The Other gives her his jacket because she's sulking in the cold for having lost a trial.

Option two is so fucking angst ridden though, it's unbelievable. It's not often you have more than one legit final girl, and I can imagine The Other being beyond pissed that he has to be stuck with the girl he wasn't able to kill in time rather than the girl he was actually stalking all night. I wonder if The Entity would give Brooke a similar "deal" that she has to survive a certain number of games in order to be reunited with Nat as a reward. It may be his final girl, but that's HER (literal) ride or die best friend forever, the idea of being separated and trapped with your bestie's slasher has to break her heart.

And The Other makes no show of hiding his distain of Brooke either. She's never shown any mercy, in fact he's the most ruthless with her. He'll ignore easy targets just to keep her knocked down, only hooking her at the very end so she has to suffer through her wounds the whole trial. He'll be damned if he doesn't reach the "quota" in record time to get the girl of his dreams. Obviously, the deal is likely rigged and neither of them would ever actually earn the reward of having Nat back, but imagine if somehow, someway...she did show up?

Never permanently, just periodically coming and going during some kind of glitch-in-the-matrix-slipping-through-the-backrooms type of deal due to how strongly she's connected to the two of them. Finally figuring out where her best friend has disappeared to, seeing what absolute hell she and other people are trapped in and trying to find a way to rescue her, and coming face to face once again with a murderer who will now stop at nothing to keep her here in the trails with him forever. The added threat that because she's not a survivor or a killer, if she dies, then that's it - permadeath.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

it’s actually starting to sink in that my last undergrad year in orchestra is over but in the meantime. concert recap post 2, electric boogaloo. i am putting this under a readmore to spare you all. it was so long i literally fell asleep drafting it

on my way to the theater i passed by the arts building and swore i saw tita conductor fishing around in her car trunk in the arts loading bay which felt very much like

the warm-up/spot runthrough was so lackluster and tired that tita conductor looked around at us and said ‘did you all go out drinking after last night’s concert or what? your energy is wacked’

we managed to scrape ourselves back together and honestly? i think we sounded better sunday than saturday in the end

especially that english piece. whoooeeee. that sounded so good.

right before the part where the second violins drive the melody back into the folk song, i managed to make eye contact with tita conductor as she turned to bring us out and we were just smiling at each other for a split second. it was genuinely so lovely

at the end of the english piece, which was our opener, we had several bars of rest before the final note and i noticed that my shoulder rest was falling off. i was so scared that if i tried to put it on my shoulder, it would fall off and cause noise, so i very quietly slipped it off, rested it on my lap, and managed to play the last note sans shoulder rest

the second movement of the fauré pelleas et melisande orchestra suite may just have been my favorite

at the very end of our set, before the lights went down for our exit and for the stage to be reconfigured for the chamber singers, i was trying to put my copy of pel and mel back into the folder when i fucking DROPPED the damn part in front of everyone. which was my mistake, i shouldn’t have moved before the lights came back down, but i was trying so damn hard to stifle my laughter as i picked it up

i managed to make my way off with my folder and instrument in hand and lost it as silently as possible once i had cleared the stage

tita conductor was standing in the wing waiting to go back on to conduct the chamber singers, locked eyes with me, and said, very concerned, ‘what’s the matter, em? are you okay?’

i managed to wheeze back ‘i dropped my music’ before a member of stage crew directed me to continue heading backstage

funnily enough, saturday’s concert was a non-clapping audience while at this one, everyone clapped between movements of both the pel and mel and the requiem

the requiem was so much fun and i was sad to see it end—but god did it end all too soon. time really just seems to pass more rapidly on stage for me: before i know it, im looking up for a cutoff

it turned out that one of the freshman girls from the one (1) year i spent in my high school women’s ensemble just committed to transfer to my university and actually attended the concert, which fucking blew my mind when she came up to me and pressed a pair of hand-folded origami flowers into my hand 🥹

headed to the party afterwards with my high school best friend as a plus-one, held in the home of two older flute players, and spent most of it talking with three violas (including associate principal and principal), concertmaster, my second clarinet friend, and my flute friend (who also graduates this year)

i was cognizant that not only had it been a year since That Pivotal Conversation with tita conductor that had changed everything, but that it had also been in this exact house. so i was already kind of anticipating that something of a similar nature was likely to occur. and it did

at one point i was trying to get a spoon from the food table when i came face-to-face with tita conductor, who, upon seeing me, hurried over, threw her arms open, and said effusively ‘oh, em—come here, give me a hug’ 🥹

it was so funny to me. like no options. give me a hug. which to be fair i have wanted to just give her a hug for a while since yayy favorite person in the music department etc. but the way she worded it was inexplicably funny

tita conductor told me ever so fervently that me staying was such a blessing and that i was a bright and intelligent section leader which like. auughghhghaggagagwgwyywwu. i feel like she’s the first person to call me bright

i told her the bit about how my decision to stay was solidified on the way back from the university visit to make it to rehearsal, and then how poignantly funny i had found it that i had walked into rehearsal and was immediately asked by her to cut the strawberries

at this—i swear to god—tita conductor let out a full-body GUFFAW that caused everyone within twenty feet to look at us.

she told me ‘i remember that because you had a really funny look on your face when i asked you—’

i cringed. ‘oh, i always seem to have a funny look on my face,’ i said, slightly embarrassed, before i could think

‘no—but you went and did it anyway. i didn’t know you had been thinking very hard at the time’

apparently in many situations i just happen to be the ‘nearest available’ person to her who she knows would ‘do anything asked without making a fuss’ and was ‘habitually helpful’

being too intimidated to say no in the workplace sure has its perks! (joke)

she really couldn’t stop saying that i was a blessing which was just. man. made me want to curl up on the floor and cry immediately. 30 years of doing this and she really just seems so fond of her students it’s very sweet

it was hard enough for me to consider saying goodbye to her. but i think it might have been harder vice versa

additional highlight for levity: tita conductor letting out a single, angelic high C out of fucking nowhere near the drinks table

eventually i walked my friend to her car and came back to find my flute friend and second clarinet at the piano with another second violin and a gaggle of chorus members

as the night wore on things started to get crazier (i.e. second clarinet friend straight up pulled out a tenor recorder out of nowhere and began to improvise off of someone on the piano 😭)

one of the hosts said ‘i could give you a soprano recorder right now’ when second clarinet mentioned he didn’t have one, disappeared, and came back with a HUGE bag of soprano recorders and began passing them around. so now i have a soprano recorder

flute friend and i mutually agreed that we both functioned the best in musician gatherings LMAO

i left because it got very late but before i left i went to thank the hosts and the other host stretched out his arms and said ‘here, can i hug you?’ and i was like ‘oh!’ and he gave me a hug and said ‘so sorry i didn’t get to talk to you, but it’s so good to see the strings here. we only ever see the backs of your heads and you can turn to look at us but we can’t really do the same. you’re a great player’ 😭😭😭

anyways. man what a fucking year. it went by all too quickly; it feels like yesterday to me that i went and re-auditioned for tita conductor. so much has changed since then. i’ve grown as a musician in ways that i didn’t even imagine—which i realize i also said last year, but last year i didn’t expect i’d become a section leader. and thankfully i think i’ll get another shot at it next year. i started off not wanting the position, but in the end it made me stronger and i have to be grateful for it. anyways! enough yapping! onwards!

[modernmanblues]

Right so, about the 10cc concert.

First and foremost. The venue, ICC Sydney, was quite impressive and perfect for a rather intimate crowd like the 10cc fanbase. I was especially impressed to see that it was a full house! So many Aussie 10cc fans, right on!

The group started off streaming 5 minutes of Godley & Creme gibberish. I’m very glad they did that bc according to legend, when 10cc were just beginning to tour in the mid-70s, their shows would always start with Kevin doing a 3-5 minute spiel on how he’s introducing the world’s greatest band/God’s gift to man on stage. Anyways, after that little G & C bit, the group went right into, dare i say, a rather controversial yet sensational piece “The Second Sitting for the Last Supper.” I expected this of course bc they’ve always started every show with that song. Such a banger. They then proceeded to do at least one song from each of the first four albums. Again, very glad they did this because those albums were crucial to the development of 10cc as a group. What I was most impressed with was Rick Fenn’s (lead guitarist post Godley & Creme) performance in “Clockwork Creep.” The man literally nailed Lol Creme’s wackiness in and even captured the playful spirit of that song. Brilliant performance, Mr. Fenn. A little side note, Rick Fenn began playing for 10cc in the late 70s after Kev and Lol left the group. Paul Burgess, who is also in the current lineup, is the unsung hero of the group. He has played drums and percussion since the early days of 10cc but it’s a shame he hasn’t received enough recognition. He’s got quite the talent, that one.

Alright so, can I just say, I was quite enthused with the fact that they played all 11 glorious minutes of “Feel The Benefit” my personal favourite. This included a mighty bass solo by the great Graham Gouldman. I shared a clip of it the other day. Will reblog for those that missed it. What a brilliant bassist, that Mr. Gouldman. I’m so proud of him. Very very talented boy and quite adorable if I do say so myself.

I was also happy to hear that they acknowledged Eric’s contributions to 10cc’s catalogue throughout the show. Quite right, the man literally put his entire heart and soul into that band he better be getting some kind of credit. And I’m not joking when I say I yelped a little everytime I heard them say Eric’s name 🤭

The group’s performance of “I’m Not In Love” “Art for Art’s Sake” and “I’m Mandy Fly Me” was absolutely groundbreaking. The way they maneuvered all the different instruments on stage, the lighting, special effects. Everything was just stunning. Pure 10cc. The group definitely did those songs justice.

Lastly, the group exited the stage just after “I’m Not In Love” but myself and the rest of the crowd cheered “more!” We were not gonna let them go without them playing “Rubber Bullets.” And they did just that! and the group even requested that the crowd go up front to dance if we were up for it. I wanted so badly to go up there and dance with the rest of them but I was bit embarrassed, being the youngest member in the audience. However, I will have another opportunity to do that when I see them again later this summer so I hope to take full advantage of that now that I know they are letting fans dance up front. Who knows, maybe I’ll get up close and shake Graham’s hand next time! 😀

[just-my-type-x]

A Imagine about romantic sex with Brad

Warnings: angst, smut, pretty long

Italics is flashback

Also, i hope i can halfway make up to that mistake I've made in the Call Time imagine where i mistakenly changed the whole idea of the imagine through this.

As always, pic not mine

You're A Vibe

Part 2 of Showstopper

Brad's POV

The show ends after what feels like a lifetime. We bow one more time in front of our fans before we exit the stage. We go straight to the venue showers and I'm so glad it's the first venue in months that has four showers. It's hard to hold back the tears I've been feeling in the back of my eyes the whole show, but somehow i manage not to let go in the shower. I feel betrayed and even if it looks like something almost insignificant, my soul breaks in numerous pieces. I've never felt a love so strong in such a long time and it's hard to accept that I've been taken for granted. A part of me knows i shouldn't be upset or give in my sad emotions because it doesn't matter. But deep down i know, for God's sake, how much this woman means to me. Meant.

We get done with our showers and don't waste any more time, we get dressed with clean, cosy clothes and exit the venue. As we approach our house for another two or so months, i catch a glimpse of y/n talking to Joe.

"You need to talk to her, mate", James advices me and i nod my head, not taking my eyes away from her, scared she'll disappear. She turns her head towards me, as she felt my stare on her. Her cheeks lose color and i clench my jaw. How the fuck did we end up in this fucked up situation..

The boys get inside the bus after giving y/n the "after every show" hug, which is usually given inside the venue, right when we get off stage. Joe goes inside too. I put on the ground my bag with the sweaty clothes and i lean on the vehicle on my shoulder, crossing my arms at my chest, looking with empty eyes at her.

"I'm sorry i didn't leave, Joe made me stay", she looks away from me and i sigh

"It's ok, we still need to see what we're doing with our lives, right?", i bite the inside of my cheek

"I guess..", she brushes her stained undereye make up with the hoodie arm. I hate seeing her so sad and all i wish for is to cover her body in mine while hugging all her worries away, telling her that I'm going to be my her side all my life. But i guess we both have other ideas for the future. "Brad, when you left on stage, you made things clear you don't want to be with me anymore.",she waits for me to nod. "I don't want that. You mean so much more to me than all of this", her eyes get teary. I look away, a cold breeze making my eyes sting.

"I'm sorry, y/n, but i can't believe you. I am in love with a moment we never actually had. (line not mine) You can't expect me to believe that what we had was true. You know about my insecurities, you knew everything and you literally decided to have a fight with me before the show, regarding the top reason I'm insecure. What does that make you? Because it definitely doesn't make you my girlfriend.". She is shocked and speechless because of the sudden decision i didn't know i was going to make. I open my mouth, but close it again, surprised by my own words.

"Every moment between us happened..", her voice cracks. "I'll just.. Let's just take a break, ok? For the rest of this tour. You don't have to talk to me, but if you want to, please do", my heart breaks at her words. She never had to say please to anything, i would've snapped my fingers to give her whatever she wished for. I clench my jaw again, fighting the urge to kiss her and make up right on spot. "I don't want this to be the end of us. I was stupid to wish for us to go public. I respect you more than that, trust me", she takes a deep breath. "I'm gonna go to the airport tonight and head home with the first flight. Just..at least lie to me that this is just a tour break and we'll talk when you get home", a few tears run down her cheeks. I give in and hug her tightly in my arms, her sobs weakening all my senses. If she only knew how much i love her.

A few weeks go by and I'm finally alone in my hotel room. I couldn't stay in that bus bed anymore and i couldn't spend another night hearing the boys get so loud after the shows. Connor makes fun of me how I'm frustrated because of the lack of sex and i think it's true. I get angry at the small things and can't take a joke as it is anymore without snapping at somebody.

Although my state of mind is what it is right now, i started talking again to y/n, things getting better, apparently. My anger and disappointment on why we fought starts to go away and I focus more on the things that are actually good for the return of our relationship.

"What are you doing tonight?", i text her and get in bed

"Waiting for Lisa to pick me up. Wby?" i frown at the text

"Where are you going?"

"There's a new bar in Central London, she said the drinks are on her tonight. I don't say no to free drinks haha", she texts, but there's a weird feeling in my chest. I start typing "be careful", but i detele the words.

"Who's coming?", curiosity killing me

"Mark, Jason, Ada and the two of us.", my anger goes through the roof as i read the names, but i receive another text. "Don't worry, Brad, Jason has nothing to do with me. We're just friends."

The only reason I'm angry at Jason is that he had a massive crush on y/n before we got together. She almost decided to be in a relationship with him, shortly before she met me. You can say I'm the one who made her fall in love with me on the spot, making Jason long forgotten. Even if, for now, we're broken up, i cannot not be protective over her or jealous.

"Do they, uhm", i send the text

"They know we're still together", she answers, like she already knew what i was about to ask

"Good, i don't want Jason all over you tonight", i roll my eyes

"Jealous"

"Never", i smirk at my phone and put it on the nightstand

After a few moments of silence, i receive another text message.

"Wanna see my outfit for tonight? 👀", she asks me

"Sure", i smile. Small things like this mean a lot.

My eyes grow wide and my body heats up. I lick my lips, the picture turning me on more than ever.

"Fuck, y/n, you can't go like that", i run a hand through my hair, looking at the picture over and over again

"Lisa's here, it looks like i am 🤧", cocky as always, y/n knows she triggered something and leaves it for me to deal with. I look down at my body, a visible boner creating a tent between my legs. I sigh, giving in the need for some relief. I take down my pj pants and take out my phone again, looking at the picture she sent me. I start pumping my dick with my hand up and down, squeezing tighter every now and then. Looking at her curves, i feel myself going insane, wishing i had her next to me.

"Fuck, i wish i could squeeze those beautiful boobs of yours", i whisper and a tingling feeling roams my body. I keep pumping my length, thinking about how good it feels whenever y/n is on top of me, bouncing her ass fast, while i grab her by the boobs, her hands on my chest and her moans filling up the room, especially when she would slip my name from between her lips when she felt overwhelmed by pleasure. I put the phone aside, feeling myself getting closer. I close my eyes and think about how she clenches her walls around me every time she is close to finishing, squeezing my hand on my dick just the way i remember feeling her. I groan escapes my throat. "Fuck, y/n", moving my hand faster, i try to replay in my head her shaky breaths and shaky voice, while her body was uncontrollably shaking on top of me.

"Oh My God, Bradley, that's it, mmmm", she used to say, while i tried to help her move so we could both finish.

"Fuck, baby, let it go", i whisper and i feel myself getting rock hard as i remember the feeling of y/n hitting her orgasm, clenching tight around me. My dick twitches and i release myself with a loud groan, my body shaking. My head falls back down on the pillow and i try to catch my breath, the intensity of it all taking me by surprise.

I go to the bathroom and take a quick shower, before going back to bed and smiling at myself, feeling better after these long weeks of being sad and frustrated. I also feel the need to see y/n and even if it might be because of the naughty thoughts I've had about us, i want to see her. I grab my phone to text her.

"I miss you", not long after, she texts me back

"So do i, Bradley", i put my phone back on the nightstand and go to sleep.

3 weeks later

I get home and throw all my belongings on the floor, making room in my arms for y/n, who jumps on me, hugging me. She asked for permission to come into my apartment and cook something for me to eat when i get back home and of course i accepted. I also knew I'll be home shortly after she finishes the food, so i wanted to catch up with her before she left.

"It feels good to be back", i say while looking around the living room. "Oh wow, it smells amazing", i get inside the kitchen and start looking around the stove to see what's in the pans.

"I knew you were going to like the smell of it", she laughs and comes over to stir the food around

"It also looks amazing, I'm gonna get changed, I'll be right back.", i head over to her and place a small kiss on her temple. She looks at me surprised and i give her a small smile.

When I'm back, casually dressed, finally, the food is already being placed in plates. We eat, watch some tv and i go out to take Jack for a walk. When i come back from the walk, y/n is ready to leave to her place. I frown at her while closing the door.

"What are you doing?", i ask, pointing to her backpack

"I'm going home?", she answers me, not understanding my question

"Why?"

"Because we don't live together anymore", she chuckles, but a sad smile appears on her face. I get sad too, remembering that we were not together anymore.

"Please stay for the night. We haven't seen each other in two months and that's a lot. I want to hear about what went on in your life", i offer and she looks from me to Jack, who was now climbing up her leg to make her pet him.

"I'm gonna say yes just because Jack apparently likes the idea", she kneels down to pet my dog and Jack starts to wiggle his tail like he's about to take off. I think we're both happier when we have her around. I smile at the view and take a quick photo of them, y/n not noticing.

Hours go by and it's past midnight, both of us sitting on my bed and watching some random show on tv. We eat ice cream and comment about what's going on inside the tv.

"He's so stupid, he could've walked around", she says, licking the spoon

"I know right? He had a clue hidden between those rocks", i put the empty ice cream container next to the bed on the floor

"Exactly. We could've been so much better doing that", she says frustrated by the incompetency of the character.

"We're much better no matter what", i look at her and she stops in her tracks, looking at me. "Especially together", i smile widely, her face lightning up with a big smile

"Don't mess with me, Brad. Do you mean that..?", she starts, but i interrupt her by nodding fast. She squeaks in excitement and i grab her face, kissing her hungrily, making up for all the days we've lost.

"Oh, how i missed your lips", i exhale, a groan escaping my throat when she slips her tongue in my mouth. We make out, her on top of me, until our kisses become more passionate amd heated. She starts rubbing herself on top of me and we both give into our emotions, moans getting louder and louder as the tention between us increases.

"Bradley, please do something. I need you a lot", she begs, he forehead stuck to mine, plump, red lips parted

"I need you too, babe. You have no idea how bad", i take off her t-shirt and leave her in a sports bra, i take my t-shirt off as well, but she's so eager that she takes her bra off immediately. I turn us around, so I'm hovering over her, taking her pants off, quickly getting rid of mine too. I look down at her, her black lace thong and my boxers being the only things that stay between us. "Have you been a good girl for me?", i trace the outline of her underwear, her body squirming under my touch. Oh how i missed this

"Mhm..", she moans and i smirk, taking down her underwear and taking in the sight of her naked body. I take off my boxers and put a condom on, positioning at the entrench of her pussy.

"I'll go slow, don't worry", i guide myself inside her, bit by bit, like it was our first time. We gasp when it slides all the way in. "Ugh, you're so tight babe, i could finish right now", i move slowly in and out of her, holding myself up by grabbing her waist, surely leaving bruises by how hard I grab her. To be honest, i can't even contain myself because of how bad i missed this feeling of having her underneath me. I move, as I'm hovering over her whole body, my arms on both sides of her head, and i bury my face into her neck, kissing and biting her at her sweet spots.

"Mmm, this feels so good love", she whispers and i gasp, feeling her nails dig deep in my back, as i speed up my thrusts, but keeping gentle. "Deeper", she begs and i roll my hips further between her legs, her legs wrapped around my waist. I raise my head to look at her, turning hers to look at me too. We hold each other's gazes, both blushing because of the intimacy of the moment.

"I love you so fucking much, y/n. Don't say anything that stupid ever again."

"I love you too, Brad, I'm so sorry", i kiss her, thrusting a few more times before feeling my high approaching. Y/n clenches around me, her moans getting louder.

"Come on, love, i know you need it", i whisper in her ear, grabbing her by the waist with one hand, thrusting harder and faster to build up her orgasm even more.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cuming", she shakes underneath me, soaking the condom in her juices. I cum soon after, collapsing on her body, not being able to hold myself up anymore. "i needed that so badly", she sighs and i chuckle.

"Me too, love. It feels so good doing this with you. And everything else", i confess and reach her forehead to give her a kiss before collapsing on my back on the bed

"I'm so sorry for that, again. I was frustrated and left it take a hold on me. I would never use you for anything. Well, other than personal pleasure", we both laugh and i intertwine our fingers together

"I know, it's ok. This reminds me", i take my phone from the nightstand, opening my gallery and setting as my lockscreen the picture of her and Jack I've taken earlier today. "Look", i show her the lockscreen and her eyes twinkle

"What are you doing?"

"Letting people know I'm taken. If they see this lockscreen by chance, they'll know about you", i smile and she hugs me, almost suffocating me

"You're the best"

"Just like you"

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

or

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

-

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

-

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

-

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

-

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

-

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

-

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

-

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

- 

part 2

[vexillumalbum]

MLQC boys being interrupted while having sex w/Reader

I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. 

All I want to say is that I wrote it long ago so there might be some mistakes. Also please bear in mind that English is not my native language. Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy!

NSFW below!

Gavin

The orange rays of the setting sun warmed the naked skin of your back pleasantly from behind the windows. Your boyfriend's white button-up casually framed your waist, barely clinging to your forearms, previously sliding off your shoulders. You had to hold it with your hands to keep it from sliding completely off. 

In fact, in that position, Gavin had a perfect view of your bare curves, with the shirt or without it. 

He was lying on his back facing you, propped up on pillows with his arms behind his head. His watchful gaze never left your body, even for a moment. His amber eyes scanned your figure, gliding over your perky breasts, smooth skin glazed in orange and silky strands of hair dancing near your neck and collarbones with your every move. 

He licked his lips.

“Come here.” It wasn’t an order, but also not a plea. It sounded more like a request of a man so in love with his girl that he couldn’t bear not touching her anymore. 

You giggled - and Gavin could’ve sworn it was the prettiest sound in the whole universe - before wrapping your fingers around his outstretched hand, letting yourself be guided to his solid body. 

Minutes later you were a moaning mess, your hips pinned to the mattress by two calloused hands, the devilish sounds coming from between your legs mixing with heavenly whimpers of your boyfriend’s name that were leaving your bruised lips. 

The grip you had on Gavin’s hair tightened when he sucked on your clit in time with his fingers working magic inside your heat. In response you heard a growl as his hips started assaulting the mattress even faster. The beast has been awoken

Tingling on your skin came as a warning for the pleasure that was supposed to arrive next. Your muscles were squeezing Gavin’s fingers hard and he couldn’t wait for his cock to be enveloped by your wet warmth next. Heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping white sheets, head thrown back with parted lips and ragged breath and—

Thump thump thump

“Are you guys okay in there?!” Minor’s concerned voice sounded from outside of the bedroom right after knocking. It startled you to the point where you jumped up, covering your bare figure with anything you could reach for, even though you were sure the doors were closed and the intruder wasn’t able to come inside the room. “I’ve heard some weird noises and I thought I’d check on you! You know, better safe than sorry!”

Gavin immediately looked over you, checking if you were alright, before turning his head to the door with a look that could kill. He palmed himself through his boxers, his erection still evident and painful. 

“We’re alright! Thanks, Minor.” After a brief moment of silence you managed to say, not knowing if you should laugh or cry or maybe both. You heard a quiet “okay” and some shuffling - the intruder left the area.

In a moment of passion both you and Gavin had forgotten that Minor was temporarily living in your apartment due to AC disfunction at his place. He wasn’t a perfect roommate but at the same his presence wasn’t overbearing and you didn’t have any complaints… up until now.

“I’ll beat him up.” Through clenched teeth Gavin’s voice was low as he was putting on some shorts he took out of the drawers, and he now resembled the Super-Scary-Officer-Gavin more  than Your-Loving-And-Doting-Boyfriend-Gavin. 

“Don’t be so harsh on him. He was concerned.” You giggled only to be met with a doubting look from your boyfriend. “As he said, better safe than sorry.”

“I’ll give him something to be sorry about.” Poor Minor

Victor

The last few weeks have been pure torture. You were very open about how much you hated these business trips that both you and Victor had to take all the time to different places in the world. Your boyfriend was less outspoken, however the days of longing were taking its toll on him as much as on you. Sleepless nights, lonely dinners, unfulfilled lust…

Therefore, when there were no meetings, reports and proposals to write or filming sites to visit on the horizon, you jumped almost literally at the opportunity and took Victor to the wellness center. 

It was a pleasant evening, the sun had recently set, but the heat was still there, aligned from time to time by the cool breeze. The white bathrobe your only cover as you and Victor relaxed on the private terrace of the apartment, with the sound of the bubbling jacuzzi in the background.

Sitting in his lap, your boyfriend was caressing your bare thigh with one of his hands, while the other was stroking your hair. It was an intimate moment shared between two lovers finally reunited and ready to spend some much needed relaxing time together. 

Until…

It started as an innocent kiss between sips of fine dry wine selected by Victor himself.

He had you almost fully naked on his lap, with your robe slipping down your back, threading fingers in your silky strands and tasting your lips - which he had to admit - were even tastier than his favorite crimson beverage.  

You were determined to get him naked, to free these gorgeous muscles from beneath the soft robe. With your nails scraping his skin lightly you were revealing more and more of his toned body earning sweet sighs from Victor as a reward. 

His skilled fingers moved from your hair to kneading your butt, making your already wet pussy to rub on his clothed hard length. The added friction was like a cherry on top of the whole make out session but you didn’t want to stop there. Why would you settle for just a cake when you can have a full four course meal, right?

“Victor, I need it, please.” You begged when he didn’t want to give you what you wanted well knowing what was it that you desired. 

“What is it, babygirl?” His question was whispered into the damp skin of your neck where Victor was leaving love bites. “Tell me what you need. You know I’ll give you everything.” He sounded so seductive, his low voice was making you shiver and you were sure your pussy was getting wetter and wetter with every word he said. “Just say it.”

“You.” You crumbled. “I want your cock. Please.”

He fulfilled his promise a few seconds later when you felt his girth stretching you out in the best way possible. Victor gripped your hips and with a look that was telling you to prepare for a ride, he started thrusting up while roughly bringing you down on his cock over and over. 

You gripped his shoulders with one hand while the other was clamped over your mouth to make sure no-one could hear the moans your boyfriend was bringing out of you.

So close, you were co close, and when his thumb pressed on your clit, you could swear you saw stars and—

Bzzt bzzt bzzt

You jumped at the sudden sound, fear taking place of lust and passion. With a quick look to the side you saw that Victor’s phone was ringing and the caller’s ID was “Financial Director”. Thinking it was important you exited his lap, sliding to the next chair. 

A low growl escaped him when you pulled away, his member still as hard as ever. His furrowed brows were the indicator of how much he didn’t like what you did, but you only smiled to him sheepishly and gestured to his phone. 

A part of him was impressed of how much you valued his work and that you knew how important it was. Yet, the other part was furious that your love making fucking got interrupted. 

He took a second or two or more who knows if he stopped time to admire your rosy cheeks and bruised lips and how you were panting after minutes of passion, before picking up his phone from the table and answering the call.

“Be quick.” The tone of his voice so much different than when he was talking to you, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched - he was mad. But that didn’t stop him from giving you a look that you could only describe one way: I’m not done with you yet.

Shaw

At times like this, you were immensely grateful for the almost deafening music that could be heard in the Live House all the time. 

Usually, it annoyed you that the rumble from the speakers drowned out any other noises - like when you were talking to others, but now you liked that you had the freedom to moan as Shaw's hips were pounding into you to the rhythm of the club song. 

Hands clutching his muscular arms, head tilted back repeatedly hitting the wall behind you, you were braced for a wild ride. Your boyfriend's hands tightly squeezing your ass supporting your weight, his hot lips nibbling at your neck marking you in every place he had access to, his cock driving into you with a reckless abandon.

And all of this caused by your short dress that showed a little too much skin in Shaw’s opinion (and he would never have thought that something like “too much skin showing” would be a problem for him but seeing every guy in the club eyeing you had his blood boiling) and your teasing ways.

During the break between songs, when Shaw had a chance to rehydrate himself for another hour on stage, your boyfriend decided to satisfy a different type of thirst. For your pussy

Sex with Shaw was always fun and wild and everything you ever wanted. But it was the best when he was hot and bothered and when envy was seeping through his body like a venom making him see red.

To be honest, you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your wrist right after exiting the stage and pulled you into the back room. You weren’t surprised when he pinned you to the wall, his lips already marking your collarbone as his hands were skillfully pushing your panties aside. You weren’t surprised when he unzipped his pants and pushed them down, freeing his hard cock.

And you sure as hell weren’t surprised when he slid into you with one sharp thrust while sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Tell me,” he panted in between the thrusts while his tongue was exploring your neck. “Do you enjoy making me jealous? Do you think it’s funny or something?”

As you were able to only whimper and moan, you didn’t respond. Of course you were enjoying making him jealous once in a while, especially when you were rewarded with his hips snapping into your in the back room of Live House.

“Answer. Me.” You swore he wanted to kill you with how intensely he was impaling you on his cock.

“Yes! Yes oh god yes!” You managed to choke out right before his fingers pinched your clit. Loud scream elected from your throat and you didn’t fail to notice the smirk Shaw was having plastered to his handsome face.

“Let me make this clear, baby.” He slowed a little as he leaned into you to have his mouth right next to your ear. “You are mine. Only mine.”

You wanted to respond. Say something, anything, but then—

“Shaw! We’re going back on the stage!” 

Adam’s voice broke through the music and your pants along with a few pound knocks. You jumped at the sudden intruder, your eyes wide and lips parted. 

Shaw on the other hand was totally unfazed when he started thrusting into you with a full speed again. And again. And again. And again. 

He didn’t even say anything back, he just went straight back into fucking your brains out.

“I told you, you’re mine.” He murmured into your sweaty skin when he saw how startled you were. “So focus on me and only me.”

Lucien

You liked surprising your boyfriend. For example when you visited him at the university with some tasty lunch and a big smile plastered to your face, or when you learned how to brew tea so you could make him the best beverages when he was particularly stressed with work, or when you memorized all scientific names of his favorite butterflies to feel closer to him through joined hobby…

Or when he came back to his office at the Research Center after a tiring laboratory work only to find you wearing very skimpy purple lingerie and his lab coat, sitting in his chair with a smug grin and a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

Part of him wanted to chide you for being reckless like that. After all, he would as much as kill, without even batting an eye, anyone who stumbled into his office with you being inside looking like that. 

But other part of him the freaky part already imagined taking you in various positions, against different surfaces during his whole lunch break. 

And so he started with face-fucking you on his desk, while pinning you to the mahogany wood with one hand as the other was palming himself through his trousers. Your panties torn and long forgotten on the floor, the lab coat loosely hugging your form with your legs wrapped around Lucien’s shoulders and hands grabbing his hair tightly. 

This man’s mouth could not only recite poetry and name every flower in the garden, but also it was able to make you cum in a record time. You had to bit your lip very very hard to control the volume of your moans.

Your second orgasm was delivered to you by the scientist’s long nibble fingers exploring your warm sensitive flesh like his life depended on it. And in a way it did, because you were the sole purpose of his existence and making you feel good was his mission, so…

Lucien was preparing you for the third one, when you decided that enough is enough. After all, you came there to make him feel good, not the other way around. 

So before your boyfriend could react you pushed him onto his chair and dropped to your knees with a grin, and when he stubbornly wanted to got up again, you batted your eyelashes a few times as you stroked his member through the fabric. He got the message and relaxed into the seat. But don’t be fooled, he was still in control.

“Such a good girl.” He praised you when you were undoing his belt. He gripped your hair guiding your face closer to his crotch.

You’ve given Lucien a blowjob so many times already, you knew exactly what to do. You licked, sucked, bobbed your head and massaged with your hands what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

Every sigh from the professor was making you shiver so you worked even harder to hear more of them until—

Knock knock knock

“Professor, excuse me…” From behind the door the head of one of Lucien’s assistants peeked out and before you could do anything he saw the position you and your boyfriend were in and immediately panicked. “Oh my— I’m—I’m so sorry!” 

He was long gone before you could even pull away from Lucien, but you didn’t miss the murderous stare professor had while looking at now - fortunately - closed door. You didn’t know if you should laugh or collapse into the ground from embarrassment. 

You were sure your face was redder than a tomato. Luckily, knowing Lucien’s reputation no-one would be so stupid to tell anyone about this situation. Or so you hoped so.

Before you decided on your final reaction to the intruder, Lucien’s palm grabbed a handful of your hair and he brought your head closer again so that your nose was brushing his hard moist cock. 

“I believe we have some unfinished business here, butterfly.”

Weirdly, you never saw this assistant in the Research Center ever again…

Kiro 

Kiro loved music almost as much as he loved you and his snacks.

So he was taking every opportunity he could to show you around his studio, write music with you and compose. 

And do other, less appropriate deeds.

For the longest time Sunshine Boy couldn’t find inspiration for his newest song. He tossed and turned in his bed every night and skipped meals because of it. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans and you, his greatest biggest fan!

But only if he knew that bringing you with him to the studio would be the cure for his lack of inspiration, he would’ve done it already days ago. Why didn’t he think of it sooner? You were his muse after all! Your moans were the greatest music to his ears!

So that’s how you ended up with Kiro pounding into you from behind tightly gripping your hair to guide your head nearer to the microphone so that every one of your whimpers could be recorded properly. 

The speed of his thrust was setting a rhythm that he wanted his new song to be in which gave him a plethora of sounds escaping your mouth. Oh how much he loved those sounds.

Gripping your hips he angled you a little more so that he could go even deeper, take you even better. He was sure he was leaving bruises on your skin with the force of his grip, but he didn’t care. He would smother them with kisses later. 

“More, Miss Chips. I wanna hear you more.” He murmured as his hand circled your waist and his fingertips pressed onto your swollen clit. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he wanted to kill you from the sheer amount of pleasure he was causing you. 

Your moans were getting higher and higher and Kiro knew it was because you were getting closer to your release. He loved that moment, right before your orgasm when your muscles were clasping around his cock trying to milk him from everything that he had, and your eyes were rolling onto the back of your head and you legs were shaking like leaves on a windy day and—

Bam bam bam

“Kiro, what are you doing in there?! Our recording session starts soon!” Savin’s voice sounded from the other side of the door and Kiro cursed under his breath that he was interrupting his own recording session.

You on the other hand squealed and tried to move away from your boyfriend but he didn’t let you.

He slowed down his thrusts and clamped a hand over your mouth.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Kiro answered but his agent didn’t seem to be convinced because he insisted on waiting for you two at the door.

When you wanted to move away again, disappointed that you wouldn’t be getting the realest that you wanted, Kiro brought you closer to himself again and started snapping his hips into your once again. His hand still clamped tightly over your mouth. 

“Well, maybe our recording is over but we can at least finish this.”

____________________________________________________

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to read more of my works they are here

[liberty-barnes]

Just Breathe

Tom Holland x Female!Osterfield!Bisexual!Reader

Summary: Childbirth waits for no one, not even the Oscars.

Warnings: fluuuuuff, pregnant reader, mentions of childbirth, good press articles, BISEXUAL READER WOOOHOOO

Word Count: 1.5k words

Estimated Reading Time: 6 minutes

A/N: heeeeey look @peterspideyy​ @parkersbliss​ that crazy idea i ranted to you about like six months ago finally got done! i can’t believe i did it... this feels too good to be true, is the world gonna end or something?

Masterlist 

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Me neither."

"Please, just stay here."

You looked up to your brother and husband, frowning as you smoothed your hand over the soft black fabric of your gown.

"I am not missing the Oscars, Tom. I've still got two weeks until I'm due, it'll be fine."

You sat down on the bed and looked dejectedly at your shoes, then proceeded to throw puppy dog eyes your brother's way until Harrison had no choice but to kneel and help you put on your comfortable trainers. There's no way you're putting on your heels at 37 weeks of pregnancy.

"But what if Baby decides to come sooner? You could go into labour at any moment!"

You rolled your eyes and only raised your arms so they could help you out of bed.

"You guys are being over-dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen. We're just going to the Oscars, we'll have a good time, and hopefully, I'll leave with a little statue under my arm."

With that, you waddled out of your hotel room, ready to get into the limo.

---

"(Y/n)! It's so good to see you! You look radiant as always!"

You smiled at Kaitlyn, an interviewer you knew and trusted and rubbed your belly comfortingly. 

"Thank you, I feel like a whale, but Baby'll be here soon so it's worth it."

She smiled and asked you a bunch of questions about your movie and how you were feeling about being nominated for Best Actress.

"But anyway, how far along are you now?"

"I'm a little over 37 weeks, they should be coming soon. Tom and Haz were actually really apprehensive about me coming here since I'm so close to my due date."

She smiled and looked over at the two men, obviously on edge.

"Well, I wish you all the best and I sincerely hope you win."

You hugged her goodbye and posed for a few more pictures before being led inside by your husband.

---

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Brie Larson, last year's winner, got ready to announce who would take home the trophy.

"This year's winner, and taking home the Oscar for best actress in a leading role..."

Tom took your hand and you squeezed it tight, ready to applaud one of the other amazing actresses on their win.

"(Y/n) Holland, for her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin!"

You felt like your heart was gonna beat out of your chest, run to that stage, kiss Brie, then promptly burst to flames out of sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Tom was hugging you and whispering how much you deserved it while your brother gently guided you to the podium. None of them would ever allow you to go up there on your own. Always one in front of you in case you trip forward and one behind you to catch you if you fall back.

Overprotective much?

As soon as you reached Brie, you hugged her tight (or as tight as you could with a human baby house separating you), taking the award while the two boys hugged her too.

"Holy Louis Tomlinson in a crop top."

The audience laughed, most of them already familiar with your strange One Direction inspired expressions.

"Wow, I didn't actually think I was gonna win this, everyone had such amazing performances. I-It's an honour, really. Two Sides of the Same Coin was a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'd like to thank the amazing Drew Barrymore, who wrote and directed the movie."

The room erupted in cheers and the woman smiled at you from her place on the front row.

"Bisexual representation is something we don't get very often, and when we do, it's always misjudged. So thank you for showing the world what bisexuality really is, and for giving me a chance to live out my dreams of kissing lots of people. This idiot tied me down too soon."

You pointed behind you at Tom, hearing his appalled squeak along with Harrison's guffaw of a laugh. 

In other news, the baby was starting to inconvenience you slightly. Baby had been going crazy since last night (not that you'd tell the boys) and the Braxton-Hicks were killing you, but it only got worse now.

"I'd also like to thank my amazing costars, Zendaya, Bella Thorne, and Owen Patrick Joyner, it was awesome to make out with you all..."

The crowd laughed while you felt something trickle down your legs.

Oh.

OH.

You'll never live this down, that's for sure.

"Uh, before I finish can one of you idiots call the car and get them to come to the exit please and thank you? Now as I was saying-"

"Wait, why?"

You turned to your brother and smiled innocently.

"Oh, my water just broke."

The crowd cheered.

Tom screamed.

Harrison fell to the floor, unconscious.

You sighed.

"New plan, can anyone try to wake my brother while my hus-" 

You looked at Tom, frantically doing small back and forths between you and his best friend, unsure of what to do. 

"-While someone else calls the car because both of them are apparently useless."

"We need to get you to the hospital!"

His terrified scream could be heard all through the room, even with no mic.

"What? No! I need to finish my acceptance speech, then go back to the hotel to shower and maybe take a little nap and then go to the hospital. My water just broke, Thomas, we have time, calm your tits."

You turned back fully to the mic, facing the hysteric faces of the crowd, very entertained by the exchange.

"Now as I was saying, I want to thank the amazing team that worked on this movie, you're all amazing and it was such a good experience. I'd also like to thank my family for always being there for me and supporting me and Haz in our acting careers. Thank you to my brother, even if he's unconscious right now, he'll just watch it on Youtube later, for literally forcing me to go to the audition. And lastly, I'd like to thank my wonderful husband, who hopefully hasn't passed out yet, for always supporting me and being my biggest rock through everything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff."

---

An Oscar in hand and another... down her legs?

(Y/n) Holland sure gave the Oscars something to be entertained by on this last Saturday. The wife of fellow actor Tom Holland looked radiant in her custom-made Valentino dress, looking ready for a night of fun.

(Y/n) was nominated for this year's Best Actress in a Leading Role award, alongside Meryl Streep, Margot Robbie, Cate Blanchett, and Tessa Thompson, but the Oscar went to her from her brilliant performance in Two Sides of the Same Coin. But it was during her acceptance speech that things got... slippery.

At 37 weeks of pregnancy, the Holland baby was ready to come at any minute, but apparently, theatrics run in the family. The actress was in the middle of her speech when she felt her water break, pausing in her talking to request a car be called.

You'd think her husband, Tom, and brother Harrison Osterfield, overprotective as they are, would be fully prepared! Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for our entertainment, they were not. Harrison went unconscious after hearing the news, dropping to the floor and earning himself a minor concussion, much to his sister's amusement

[image1-harrison-ice-pack.png]

@ynholland: "Don't worry, when you go into labour, I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Harrison Osterfield, then proceeded to pass out, get a minor concussion, and miss the whole delivery.😂 Good job, little bro👍

And just when you thought she couldn't get any better, she finishes her acceptance speech with: "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to deliver a baby, you know, just normal Saturday night stuff." We have no choice but to stan this iconic queen!

But for the news you've all been waiting for, Oscar Robert Holland (yes, the middle name is a homage to Robert Downey Jr. himself, we're not crying, you are!) was born just twelve hours later. Tom let know through a beautiful Instagram picture that he is in fact "perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already".

[image2-tom-and-oscar.png]

@tomholland2013: I present to you, my best creation to this date: Oscar Robert Holland. Thank you all for your prayers and kind messages, our boy is perfectly healthy and loved by everyone already❤️

But of course, Uncle Haz wouldn't stay behind.

[image3-haz-and-oscar.png]

@hazosterfield: Since I know you've all been worried sick and desperate to know how the baby is... I'm doing just fine, it's just a minor concussion :) Oh and my godson's great too.

And just to prove that the Osterfields are indeed the royal family of comedy, we leave with this wonderful picture posted to the happy mum's very own Instagram.

[image4-yn-and-oscars.png]

@ynholland: Guess I was so good they gave two Oscars instead of one ;)

-Written by Kaitlyn Storm

so anyway, Two Sides of the Same Coin is a movie idea i got a while ago and should maybe try to write one of these days but oh well or something. anyway, i’m not gonna rant about it here cause it’d be too long but i hope you enjoyed this and don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it!

-Love, Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» 

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you) 

PERMA TAG 

@adriannajackson123​ @theamazingtomholland​ @inlovewithmobtom​ @andycanbeemotional​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @jeezkiddo​ @a-singleboat​ @wunder-13 @highlydisfunctional1​ @ellyseveronica​ @inthecornerchair​ @harishaanne​ @anjalika03​ @lozzypoz321​ @mendes-marvel​ @sovereignparker​ @bubbles-the-powerpuffgurl 

 MARVEL ACTORS 

@sarcasticallywitty15​ @agentnataliahofferson​ @onelovesr​ @agentnataliahofferson​ @parkerpetertingle​ @juliebean247​ @frustratingpaperclip​ @tacobacoyeet​ 

HOLLAND & CO. 

@sarcasticallywitty15​ @agentnataliahofferson​ @onelovesr​ @agentnataliahofferson​ @zeusmyster​ @parkerpetertingle​ @juliebean247​ @joyleenl​ @quaksonhehe​ @clara-licht​ @frustratingpaperclip​  @tutuabby28​ @tacobacoyeet​ 

LGBTQ+ 

@quaksonhehe​ 

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 3/2021) -     The Burger is a Lie

Tubbo moves past the denial stage of grief into anger. After creating a grave for Tommy, he decides that someone needs to be held accountable.

It’s time for some good old-fashioned detective work.

---

VOD LINKS:

[Ponk’s VOD was deleted so unfortunately I can’t recap it since I didn’t see it :( ]

Tubbo

Foolish

Awesamdude

Captain Puffy

Ranboo

---

- Tubbo walks down the Prime Path with plans to build Tommy a grave in Snowchester. 

- He doesn’t even know why or how it happened. Why was Tommy in prison?

“I want to blame someone -- I’m angry! Who’s to blame?”

- He wonders who set off the TNT to trap Tommy in there.

- Tubbo reaches Snowchester and finds a small ice island just outside the border to set up a gravesite. He makes a patch of grass, a wooden bench, puts down some flowers. He makes the gravestone out of wood.

“Tommy’s favorite block was literally oak wood. (laughs) He was a simple person, chat. He was a simple person.”

- He places a sign.

“In the Memory of Tommy. He was taken from us too soon.”

- He puts cobblestone around, and puts down a jukebox.

“This was meant to give closure, chat. This was meant to just give closure, but instead I’m just feeling more and more mad."

- Tubbo places down some lanterns and a Prime Log. He has a moment on the bench.

“Alright...so...what now? I’m pissed, dude. I don’t know how this was allowed to happen. I don’t know how this was allowed to happen. Receive his stuff from the prison -- no, I’m not going in that thing for a very long time.”

- He decides he needs someone to be held accountable. He wants to launch an investigation.

- He goes under the McPuffy’s and plans to make a little room to gather all the information in one place, and also a place to go in an emergency. Like a panic room or a bunker. No one should know about it until they have enough information to convict someone.

Tubbo starts building.

- He doesn’t even want to go into Tommy’s house, not even for supplies.

- He grabs a lectern for the room and starts writing. A storyline is needed.

The Crime:

- Murder

The Timeline:

- Tommy Visits Dream.

- Bomb gets set off.

- Tommy was Trapped with Dream.

- Tommy is The Crime is committed.

- Start with number two...where? Where were the bombs set off? Because if it was all a ploy, then Sam is the one to be held accountable. 

- Tubbo goes to the prison to check around the perimeter. The sound of the bombs came from above, but Tubbo remains skeptical. That could have been a ploy to cover up the tracks.

- Tubbo finds a patch of the shoreline where a water level is missing. He assumes that someone was just gathering sand there, not that it’s explosion damage.

- Tubbo flies onto the top of the prison and notices that there’s snow missing where the snow biome should encompass. A small area of a few blocks -- they must have been tampered with. Tubbo documents the evidence.

Evidence:

Tommy was trapped inside because of an explosion “outside” ..

Around the outside of “Pandora’s Vault” there was no evidence of explosion damage.

However on the roof of the Vault there is evidence of an explosion. We can tell this because of the snow pattern on the roof of the prison.

However snow can be broken by TNT from inside the Vault. But I suspect that the TNT was detonated outside.

- Now, Tubbo needs to go and find out who has access to stocks of TNT. Who has the majority of the world’s TNT? Well, there was a country that used to exist on this server. And who was responsible for its destruction? 

Tubbo visits L’manhole.

“Technoblade, Dream, and Philza. Suspects number two. We’ve moved on from Sam. Suspects number two and three, sorry -- Technoblade and Phil.”

“Everyone’s a suspect, chat. Guilty until proven innocent, I’ve always said.”

- And doesn’t Technoblade owe Dream a favor? Tubbo declares him suspect two.

- Tubbo runs to Technoblade’s house. There’s not much of anything out of the ordinary.

- He goes inside and looks through the chest, finding one with plenty of gunpowder, about half full. What looks off about it, though? What is missing here?

“Chat, where is the rest of the gunpowder, chat? Where is the rest of the gunpowder? It’s a fair question...Techno uses it for potions? No, no, hear me out. If chest was at least filled up to here, okay, that is four stacks and a half of gunpowder, okay? Each gunpowder is three splash potions. Three splash potions. So that’s over twelve stacks of potions! Potions that are not stackable! And in this establishment, there are not enough chests to hold twelve lots of sixty-four un-stackable potions. Rockets? Yeah, that’s another good call. What else is a good call? TNT. Let’s keep looking.”

- He continues to look through the chests, then exits. Suspect two has all of the materials to commit the crime.

- Suspect three? No sand, not enough gunpowder.

- He starts to leave.

“‘Check Ranboo?’ I mean it’s not gonna be Ranboo, is it? It’s not gonna be Ranboo. Yeah, he has access to all the stuff, but I doubt he even remembers it’s there..."

- He does a quick search anyway. The person who committed the crime must have not been prepared. They gathered the sand outside of the prison -- that’s what the missing shoreline must have meant.

- He notices Ranboo’s plan signs and reads them. He goes down into the basement but the vault door is shut, so he doesn’t find it. He assumes chat is talking about Pandora’s Vault.

“There is sand that has been mined outside the prison. The TNT was crafted rash. Technoblade doesn’t do rash, he does planned and calculated. Suspect two, three and four. I’m gonna presume they’re innocent right now, except for suspect two.”

- Technoblade could’ve supplied someone else with gunpowder. He wasn’t online during the explosion, but who was? Foolish and Ranboo.

“‘Big Law?’ Yeah, I’m back. I’m back in it again. I suppose you could say that...I’m on my A game right now.”

- Was Jack Manifold online at the time? No. Just Ranboo, Foolish, Dream, Tommy and Sam. Foolish lives in a desert. There’s a vast supply of sand in a desert...but was he streaming at the time?

- This does not look good for suspect number four...

- He returns to the bunker to get his evidence straight and places down signs.

Who Caused the Explosion?

Techno Owes Dream A Favor

Techno Has Gunpowder Missing

Sand Disturbed Outside The Vault

Techno Was Not Online @ The Time Of Explosion

Ranboo & Foolish Were Online @ TOM [time of explosion]

Foolish has access to sand

Ranboo has access to gunpowder

Sam lock Tommy In The Vault

Dream is in the Vault

TO DO:

Find out who visited Dream

Interview more players to get big picture

- Who visited Dream? So far, Tubbo only knows Tommy. Who else would ever want to visit Dream except for Tommy? 

- A dono leads Tubbo to realize that TNT can be planted beforehand with a timer. Sam could have planted the TNT with a timer. It could have all been Sam. It could have even been Dream with a contingency plan...but how could he have known Tommy would visit? Because of the favor? Did Techno convince Tommy to visit?

Why did Tommy visit Dream? Closure? Did anyone give him that idea?

- Tubbo decides he just needs more information.

- He sees the McPuffy’s...is it a coincidence that, as soon as Tommy got put in prison...burger shops started popping up on the Dream SMP?

- Maybe this happened because of the BURGERS.

- Could it have been Jack Manifold, wanting the hotel for himself? 

“Nah, Jack’s way too dumb for that.”

“The burger is a lie!”

- Maybe the Egg has something to do with it? Tubbo goes down into the Egg Room and shouts at the Egg to ask for answers. He leaves the Egg Room with no more answers, wondering if he’s about to leave the anger phase and head into bargaining instead.

- Ranboo works on his Conflict Resolution Pit after months, planning to finally finish it at long last.

- Ranboo looks at the chest by the pit and finds...a Manberg war shield? Whose is that? He isn’t sure what the shield means.

[Fun Fact: According to Karl about the banner’s design, the black represents all the colors combined, meaning “Unity.” The red is “the blood of our enemies.”

“It’s unity unless you go against us.”]

- Ranboo continues resource-gathering and building.

- Sam works on his creeper farm! He also answers several questions. Here are a few!:

* Are Sam Nook, warden Sam and Awesamdude all different people? 

Sam Nook and warden Sam are different people, but the warden is not a separate character from normal Awesamdude. They are the same person. Sam Nook is the only separate character. This will be explained more in the future!

* Why is Sam’s pickaxe named “Warden’s Will Breaker?” Does it have anything to do with breaking the prisoner’s will? 

“Mayhaps, mayhaps...”

* Isn’t it a little strange that he’s building a creeper farm? 

“Well, I’m the king of creepers so they should be excited to die for me.”

- Ranboo asks if he can shoot Sam. Sam says yes (in game)

- Ranboo shoots Sam in the face. Sam turns majestically and stops moving. Ranboo is confused and is worried that Sam might not be alive. Sam’s computer is suffering.

- Ranboo tries to get Sam to move.

“Oh my god he’s been completely paralyzationizitated.”

- By Sam’s request, Ranboo tries to push him to safety.

- Sam has been bound to the y-axis! He starts seeing through Ranboo’s stream.

- Ranboo tries to drive Sam in a boat but he starts seeing colors. 

- Sam dies on the Prime Path. Ranboo makes a marker sign in remembrance of where he died by paralyzationizitation. 

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[taraljc]

so I finished my Marvelous Mrs Maisel season 1 rewatch. I was supposed to have been sorting stuff for sale while I did it. as with most things in my life 'supposed to' exited stage left pursued by a bear. however I have been writing bits and pieces even though I have absolutely no idea where any of them are going to fit. but part of it does include a lot of missing scenes, including the walk from the Station House or whatever they call it in New York. precincts? the walk from the 8th precinct to The City Corner and actually both Midge using her one phone call to call Susie to tell Susie to call her mother, and then after Lenny bails her out, trying to get through to the Gaslight to tell Susie not to go to the station because Lenny bailed her out but the line is busy because Susie still on the phone with Midge's mother. so then there is the comedy of errors getting another nickel so Lenny can call someone he knows to send a runner to the Gaslight to tell Susie to meet them at the diner.

long story short the only money Midge has on her is like the 20 bucks her dad handed her before she walked out, and only because it was in the pocket of her dress. all of her change from the cab ride is actually in the pocket of her coat which Susie has and Lenny has no change. and Lenny gets to watch the transformation that is Midge using her feminine wiles to get a random guy on the street to give them change. and it also includes the first time Midge actually tells Lenny a joke and he thinks holy shit this chick is really funny because at that point they have only interacted at police stations and he only has it on hearsay that she is actually a comic.

anyway, I wasted like 2 hours trying to look up an actual vintage phone number because I didn't know what the exchange would be for Riverside and 111th in 1958 and so I was literally combing through vintage newspapers looking for a phone number I could steal and the fact that I bothered to do that for literally a throwaway gag tells you a lot about me I guess?

anyway I put a placeholder in because I have to find somebody who actually lived in New York in the 60s who can tell me what the exchange would have been and until that happens, I'm just sticking with what I've got.

so I'm aware that all of this on the surface sounds like progress. because you would think based on the way I talk about it that I have made great strides. but the problem is I'm not making great strides anywhere except sitting on my ass on the sofa and watching TV and occasionally typing into a computer.

I am not getting laundry done. I am not getting dishes done. I did make myself ramen for dinner so that was something. and I played with the cat for a while--also something. since I'm on the phone dictating this tumblr post my cat is actually trying to crawl inside a gigantic bin bag that holds a ball gown (which is a really long story).

my cat has become increasingly despondent with the amount of time I have been spending reading about Lenny Bruce and talking about Lenny Bruce and writing about Lenny Bruce and not playing with my cat. however being a cat I'm pretty sure if I keep on giving her lots of treats she'll be fine.

oh good the cat has removed herself from the nest of crinolins and is now under my bed.

anyway, I am still poking things with sticks. I still need to gather up another pair of 30 gallon bins of doll stuff to give to Tiny Frock Shop to sell. I need to raise $5,000 for a special assessment on my building for the HOA. I got ghosted by the only interview I've had in a year so that was fun. literally ghosted while in the process of trying to arrange the follow-up interview. so that was new.

anyway it's early Saturday morning and I'm only just now getting to bed.

But watching the entirety of the first episode of season 2 for the first time since the first episode of season 2 aired, instead of just the flashback scene from the end of the season finale of season 1, was interesting. I wish I had some real solid sense of how much time had passed. was it weeks? was it a month? how long was Rose gone before Abe and Midge even noticed? enough time for Midge to get incredibly proficient at being a phone operator in the basement of B Altman. And enough time for Rose to restart her life in Paris reliving her glory days as a student in I presume the 1920s and get a dog and train said dog. I'm already very attached to Simone and concerned about the dog because I don't remember what happens to the dog I'm sure the dog lives a long and happy life with the landlady. also the female impersonators are wonderful and it makes me want to watch Victor/Victoria again which I should because it's fantastic. and the silly nightclub set that Midge does is actually worth it for the interpreter because the because the interpreter is absolutely hitting every cadence. I mean I have enough French to follow right up until it becomes pretty much overlapping completely.

(although weirdly I had a very difficult time understanding the landlady which I guess is the difference between listening to an actual Parisian speak French as opposed to a New Yorker speaking French. I haven't actually carried on extended conversations with parisians in about 30 years so the fact that I retained any french at all is sort of a huge surprise to me.)

I forgot how weird it is for the dynamic to be reversed with Midge wanting to get back together with Joel and Joel being the one saying no that won't work. but I had forgotten how completely separate their lives had been over those 3 months. she had no idea that he had suddenly actually invested any time and passion in his day job and he has no idea that she suddenly has his burgeoning career as a comic. in fact she's the one who told him about where to find the party albums which I had forgotten. I keep thinking that he knew about the record shop and had bought his comedy albums there.

also the part where Midge's bedroom is attached to the kitchen makes no sense to me because that should actually be the maid's room but maybe not. I need to look at schematics of that building again. maybe the maid's room has its own access? I don't know I've never lived in a building with a doorman and although I have lived in a house that had maids quarters that my father had converted into a home office and there was a really narrow really steep staircase that went from that room down to the kitchen and it was located behind my bedroom so in order to get to it you'd walk through my bedroom and let me tell you that was fun as a child.

also I had had it in my head this whole time that Frank and Nicky we're sent to rough up Susie over gambling debts not sent by Susie's mentor Harry Drake. That's cold. that is seriously cold. although I will say this, that's probably the most press Sophie Lennon has gotten in years.

also I wonder if Midge kept the coat. she should have kept the coat. it was a really good coat. also it was from Marshall Fields which was a massive part of my childhood and so I have affection for that code based entirely upon the label.

God I am so sorry about all of the scrolling. I'm on my phone which means I can't insert a read more. but when I get up in the morning I mean in the afternoon when I get up later and go to my computer I will try and remember to go back to this and edit it so it makes sense and add a read more so it doesn't scroll for six pages and by pages I mean screens.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inspired partially by the twitter trend of The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It and just in time for Valentine’s Day! 

Gender Neutral Reader Insert. 

Enjoy my masterlist!

Support me on KoFi!

__________________________

While sitting in the car, you watch out the window. Folks buzz around you--some folks looking content, strolling about their day. Others are flitting around, a bit of crease in their forehead. And you feel for them. You know those days where there’s just not enough hours in the day to get it all done. Or it’s when one thing sets off a spiral of all terrible things. Or when you just don’t wake up on the right side of the bed. You know that crease all too well because currently you were having a bad sleeping week. 

You were getting tired when you were supposed to but the second you put your head on the pillow your brain was hot wired--keeping you up with all the things you needed to do, hadn’t done, all the appointments you had kept pushing off. It was finding the littlest things to find that anxiety and keep you staring up at the ceiling. Calum noticed the tossing and turning and tried his best to lull you to sleep this week, fixing you tea in the evening, getting you off your phone or laptop a couple hours before bed. He even started reading to you, but your ears picked up on the white noise of everything in the house. Your brain picked up the embarrassing memory that you hadn’t even considered in decades and now holding it in front of your mind’s eye for hours on end during the week. 

Like right now, you should’ve been at home sleeping. Your work was giving you a long weekend and you really could’ve used the time to catch some extra Z’s, but you were, admittedly, a little scared to stay home. Sure maybe you did fall asleep cuddled up next to Duke. But you worried that you’d stay up, worry yourself sick some more so when Calum told you he had some errands to run you immediately tagged along. The time running around would hopefully tire you out enough that when you got home you could actually fall asleep. 

So after Calum’s personal training session in the morning, which you sort of tagged along for, but mostly went through your own routine and getting a solid breakfast, you two were now buzzing around from store to store. Calum had gotten most of the grocery the other day, but he forgot a couple things so your first objective was to grab those and bring them back up. He then had to go to the post office to mail out his mother’s birthday cards and a few other things. 

While in the line at the post office, your head tucked into his back, Calum got a phone call from a guitar shop on the other side of time about a new model that had just come in. Calum had been eying it for ages, but he didn’t want to be reckless with his money especially after getting some work on his teeth and to the house. So he asked the guitar shop to keep an eye out for when more stock arrived in case it sold out before Calum felt comfortable spending a large sum of money like that again. 

The store agreed to set one off to the side for him and could keep it on hold until the end of the day. Which was perfect--still gave the two of you time to get lunch. You didn’t need to get anything, didn’t need to do anything. But even after lunch, Calum made one more pit stop. Here now at the gas station, you sit peering through the windshield and can see a mother with her two sons walking from the doors. They boys hold brightly colored icees in their hand, each clutching a bag field with goodies. 

You aren’t entirely sure whey Calum needed to stop here for anything. It’s not like he needed stamps, since he got those at the post office. He hadn’t pulled in to get gas. Lunch had been filling, though you tried not to stuff yourself too much just because you knew that on a long car ride, the last thing you wanted to do was be uncomfortably full. 

The door opens again, Calum strutting through with his glasses covering his eyes and resting comfortably atop the chubby cheeks. Barely hanging from the crook of his fingers is a brown plastic bag. The doors click open and he climbs into the driver seat. The guitar shop wasn’t that far, but today seemed to be a busy day on the road. Took you all too long just to get to the grocery store this morning. 

“Snacks?”

“Was craving something sweet after lunch.” 

You peer into the bag as he hands it over to you. Some gummy bears, gum, a bar or two of chocolate you can’t quite tell. You set it onto the floor at your feet. “Let me know when you want something.” But he’s already tearing into a Twix bar when you glance at him. “Or not,” you laugh. 

“The other stuff is for you--if you want to indulge. Can’t forget ya,” he pushes the glasses down for just a moment to wink at you and then looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Do you think you’re going to get this one?” you asks as the SUV rolls out from the parking lot and onto the asphalt of the highway. 

“Hmm, maybe. Gotta see how it feels first.”

You nod at his question, resting your head into the cushion of the seat. And it goes quiet for a while. The radio plays softly in the background, and every so often the packaging crinkles as Calum downs more of the chocolate and caramel treat. 

“Valentine’s Day is coming up soon,” Calum states, while paused in a bit of traffic. “Got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

You think for a moment. Valentine’s Day has never been your thing--being perpetually single does that to a person. “Restaurants are going to be a nightmare.”

“Yeah, they will be.” Another crinkle comes from the right side of the car and then his arm reaches behind your seat, finding the small bag of trash you stash there--though you have to be careful when Duke sits in the backseat. Generally though, he doesn’t mess with too much. “My mom sent me a recipe of hers. It’s really good.”

“I’d be down for cooking.”

“Nothing else? Don’t wanna go sky diving? Give me another heart attack?”

You laugh thinking about the first birthday you spent with Calum together as a couple. “You didn’t die.”

“But I did almost shit myself.”

“You can play on stage to thousands of people, but no, jumping from a plane is a no-go.”

“Yes, because I am a sane human.”

You huff out a small tuft of laughter and turn to look at him. One hand on the wheel with the stainless steel linked chain dangling from his wrist. His other arm is resting against the door, gently tapping out a beat with his long slender fingers. “Do you want to do anything?”

“Valentine’s Day,” he scoffs. “How long have we been dating? When have I ever been dying to do anything on some random day in February.” His statement doesn’t fall venomously from his mouth. He even looks over to you with a smile. “I don’t need one day out of 365 to declare my love for someone.”

And it’s true. While Calum wasn’t super accepting of love from new people, while it took you months to show Calum that you were trustworthy and not someone to keep at an arm’s length, once he cracked open, he oozed adoration and love for people. And you knew it was a defense mechanism. You knew that when someone did care as hard as Calum did it wouldn’t always be an easy thing to win over. 

Calum, when he finally let someone one, loved hard. It could be a random Tuesday in July or a Sunday in February, and he would make sure his love was known. He never needed a special occasion to send flowers, to cook dinner, to offer to drive you to doctors appointments because he knew that sometimes you got too nervous or flustered by them to drive but did manage to push through if absolutely necessary. He’d easily pick up some gloves and an extra sponge if he saw you wiping down the walls in the kitchen or wiping through the counter. He kept fridge cleaning days marked on the calendar. And when you added reminders to wash bed sheets to the shared one, he also include rest breaks for you too. 

Calum had never needed someone to force him to show appreciation. 

“I mean, there is the option to literally do nothing on Valentine’s Day. Like treat it as any other day.”

“That’s still something,” he countered, turning on his signal and switching out from the middle lane. His exit was approaching in another mile and a half. 

“Oh fuck off,” you laugh. “We can’t cease to exist that day. Bare minimum we need to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.”

Calum laughs softly, showing some of his teeth too. “Fair, fair. There’s another Netflix documentary coming out, true crime one. I forget what it’s fully about, but I think it’s about a serial killer if you’d be down to start it then?”

“When would I ever turn down the opportunity to be a detective with you?”

“You haven’t yet,” he states with laughter in his voice. 

“And I never will.” The ramp takes the two of you down and down and soon you’re winding through streets and not too far you can see the shopping center coming into view. He pulls into the lot of the shop and the two of you step out in unison. 

The bell above the door chimes as he opens it for you and you smile often in your thanks. “Hey, Calum!” one of the guys at the register calls out. The store is fairly empty. But you’re not shocked on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“Hey, Derek. How’s it going?” Calum heads directly over to the counter and you look up to the left wall, at the records on display.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the second guy states to you, “or if you want to see anything.” He’s younger than Derek, both look to be equally tattooed from the pieces that peek out from the short sleeve work shirts, but his face is significantly brighter. 

“Thanks,” you return and go back to the displays. You can hear Calum and Derek chatting but slowly tune it out, make it background noise to the music playing through the speakers. 

You turn to walk towards the back where more instruments sit and you can see Calum leaning into the glass display of the counter. The palms of his hand pressed into the metal edge. The sunglasses sit on top of his head and you notice the younger guy glancing over at you again.

He nods again and then goes back to his computer. Nothing else is said. And you look over the stringed instruments, ukuleles, some violins and then you spin around again, done with that lap and go to head up to Calum. “See anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “You’re the musically talented one. I just nod and smile when you talk about it.”

Derek returns, a case in hand. He comes out from the hinged doors that separate the sales floor from the registers and back of the store. You scoot a little closer to the display as the case is transferred over. Calum takes it easily heading to the corner you just abandoned to sit and check out the instrument. It’s a beautiful deep green, almost reminds you of the thick Washington forest. The body is slender. 

“That’s a pretty cool color,” you note, watching Calum work his fingers over the frets. 

He grins up at you. “Think so?” You give another nod. He doesn’t inspect it long before you can see the desire to give in crosses his face. 

Derek’s standing close by and you turn to him and keep your voice as close to a whisper as you can while still being heard. “What’s a bass like that cost?”

He rattles off the price, one eyebrow slightly raised over the other. You know Calum will riot--he’ll pitch a fucking fit. But you reach into your wallet and slide out your card. You had been saving--for a year. You wanted to do something big for Calum. You just didn’t know what it was yet specifically though you had some ideas, a bass was top of the list.  But you didn’t want to try and go out and buy a bass without consulting him, without getting an understanding of what he liked. You thought about maybe a really good leather jacket and some more boots. He loved the ones he had, wore them as much as he could. 

And when you mentioned possibly getting him more, he told you the ones he had were still in good shape. Calum wasn’t the type to just buy clothes to buy them. He indulged here and there, but always made a point to wear something he had down before replacing it. You’d tease the subject a couple more times after that, but he never took the bait and you weren’t going to force him into a thing he didn’t want or need. 

But it’s clear to you that this is something he wants. But he’ll tussle with himself and never give in on it. It’s pricer than you thought it would be. But you too were being smart, having finally paid off the last of your car, you start moving those payments to savings and it helped a great deal. You were fine. You get insurance and the whole deal as Derek advises. By the time you slide the receipt back across the counter, Calum comes back to the registers. “I appreciate you holding it for me, man. But I don’t think I can right now.”

Derek looks at you and you look down into the glass. “It’s--it’s yours, dude.”

“What?” Calum breathes behind you. 

“They-uh, they paid for it,” Derek says, nodding at you.

You can feel the heat in your body now and spin around to face Calum in a rush. “Consider it a not Valentine’s Day gift.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Ever since I finished paying off my car, I saved the payments to do something nice for you. Didn’t know what it was going to be for sure. But I know you, Calum. You’d want something and tell yourself no. I mean you can treat yourself sometimes.”

“You-you didn’t?” His eyes are rapidly blinking, head shaking like he doesn’t want to believe you. Like he can’t believe you as his mouth mumbles out, “No,” repeatedly. 

“It’s yours,” you nod. “It’s really yours.”

If it weren’t for the weight of the bass, you’re sure Calum would’ve tipped over, maybe even rushed to Derek to hand the case back over, but instead he’s weighed down, chained to this spot in the blue speckled carpet of the store, still repeating, “No,” softly. 

“‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to find space in your office for it now. Because I refuse to return it.” You step forward, find the handle and slip your hands around it taking it from Calum. A small grunt leaves you and then you start to the door, throwing a thanks to Derek. 

The lights to the SUV blink and you can hear the locks clicking open as you push open the door to the store. “Wait--what are you doing?” Calum asks. 

“Open the trunk please,” you ask. 

“Let me do it,” he demands, stepping in close to take the case with the bass now. “What the fuck did you do? Baby, this is expensive.”

“It’s not a Valentine’s Day gift,” you answer again. “Because I love you. On a random Tuesday.”

He gets the instrument safely into the trunk and then closes it, watching dumbly as you climb into the passenger side. He walks to the driver seat and climbs in, taking you gently by the chin. “That was absolutely reckless and unnecessary-- ”

“I am just absolutely reckless and unnecessary then,” you counter, “because I’m not returning it.”

“--but thank you. Thank you so much,” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Then it’s silent, as the two of your gaze at each other, watching what could almost be tears well in his eyes, but they don’t fall. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a person like you, but whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.”

“I’m glad you did it too.” The two of you return home, Duke rushing to the front door as the two of you step through it. Calum safely places the bass in his music room/office and returns shortly after to help you decide on what to order for dinner. 

As the two of you settle onto the couch, Calum takes your hand and presses a kiss to teach knuckle. “I’m gonna teach you how to play.”

“You know we’ve done this before.”

“And you were good at it.”

“I was alright at it.”

“It’ll be your bass,” he whispers. 

“I bought it for you,” you return tossing your head back to look at him. 

He kisses your lips. “Yeah, but it’ll be the one that I teach you to play for real one and it’ll be yours--just as much as it is mine.”

“A true sap,” you laugh, but nod and return your focus back to the TV. 

In the week that follows, Calum makes sure to take an hour in the evenings to set you down and pick up on the lessons. They fizzled out as work for the both of you picked up. But now things are a bit more calm. He sits next to you, assessing what you remember from last time and correcting finger placements as needed, but they go smoothly. 

When Valentine’s Day does come, Calum pulls you back into bed for just five more minutes of sleep. And five minutes turns into half an hour. But finally you two pull yourself out from the sheets, figure out what to do in the midmorning that results in food being consumed and then you slowly gravitate towards different sections of the house. 

There’s still a bit of laundry to be done and Calum takes Duke out for just a little bit. The two of you migrate back together by mid afternoon. He finds you making a quick lunch and presses a kiss to your cheek. You turn to face him, squeezing at his. “I bought some face masks,” he offers. “Care to join me in doing the bare minimum of converting oxygen into carbon dioxide after your lunch?”

“Don’t see how I could pass up such a wonderful offer? You want anything?” He shakes head, mentioning grubbing on some of the leftovers earlier while you took a nap. 

With your lunch done and the plates cleaned, you find Calum in the bedroom and let him know you’re ready for the face masks. He shuffles to the bathroom. “I hope I got the right one for you,” he mutters. “I got them forever ago it feels, so who the hell knows what I got.” His laughter is soft as he rummages through the bins under the skin. 

“I’ll be in the office,” you tell him and he nods, still pulling bins out. You settle into the couch and spy the green bass still on the stand from yesterday. You pull it into your lap and sling your arm over it. The amp next to you is off, you know but you still pluck away at it as if it were on. 

Calum shuffles in a few minutes later. “Um, babe. It’s off.”

You don’t reply but do look up. He holds up three different packages. “Here’s to hoping one of these is worthwhile.” You place your bass back to the stand and take one that sounds like one you’re okay with using. Calum hands you a towel so you can wipe your fingers off after you get it placed onto your face. He helps get it right and then you help him with his and the two of you slip onto the couch, legs entangled and leaning into opposite ends of the couch.

You laugh at Calum’s story as you scroll mindless through app after app. In the boredom you snap a picture of Calum with the face masks on and don’t think too much of it, saving it to the album with all the silly and cute photos of him are--there are tons. 

“I mean the sun is a star. Though the ones we see have been dead for a long time.”

Calum taps your leg with his foot. “It was a simple question--to be the sun or the stars. I didn’t ask for this philosophical crisis.”

“Why would it not weigh in your decision! If you’re a star like the ones we see at night, you’re technically already dead. You wanna be dead?” You huff, sitting up. 

“I mean, no, but c’mon.”

“It’s a valid thing to consider, that’s all I’m saying!”

He laughs. “Okay, sun or the moon?”

“You first,” you return and just then your alarm on your phone goes off. The two of you shuffle back to the bathroom and take off the masks. 

“Moon, maybe,” he counters. 

You nod. “Fitting. When should we get started on that recipe of your moms? Is it super involved?”

“Nah, it’s pretty easy. Normal time should be good. I’m going to read outside if you want to join.”

“Maybe in a bit.”

Calum nods, grabbing his book as he passes through the bedroom and the patter of Duke’s claws follow behind him. You go back to the music room, turn on the amp and then actually play a little something. It’s nothing fancy--just the arrangement you put together with Calum as a practice exercise once. You play it for a bit, adding a little flair. When you phone rings, you pause to answer it. You wouldn’t normally, but the number looks semi recognizable so you answer it. 

It’s just a scam call and you hang up but then notice some other notifications. Before you realize it, you’re deep into Twitter. You’ve run across the trend of people posting pictures of themselves and their significant others with the caption, The Face Vs The Face Sitting On It. It made you laugh just a little bit at first. And then you kept going down the rabbit hole. Some are silly, most are good pictures. 

While it’s not exactly secret that you and Calum are dating, you two don’t post too much. Calum isn’t incline to post on social media in the first place and while you use it a bit more than him, you try not to post too much about him out of respect. However, as you look tap on quote retweet and bring up your photos you think maybe one silly post wouldn’t hurt. So you grab the one of him recently with the face masks and then one of yourself--it’s silly too, a little blurry too in the darkness that it was taken in. 

You hit post and watch the likes come in. Then keep scrolling. Eventually you have to put the bass away and peel yourself from the couch to find Calum and see if he’s hungry enough for dinner. Just as you round the corner to the office, you spy him stepping through the glass sliding backdoor. “Hungry?” you ask. 

He nods, “Yeah.”

The two of you, with Duke trotting ahead, make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. “You’re funny,” he states, washing his hands first. 

“Thank you. I’ll be here until you kick me out.”

He laughs. “No, the pictures you posted. On Twitter.”

You’re shocked that he noticed it that fast. Normally it took him a bit longer to see silly stuff like that. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah. What I hope you don’t mind is my reply.”

At first you’re nervous. Calum could’ve gone one of two ways--super silly and broke out even worse photos of you possibly not sober or he went super on trend with it and pulled out a photo of you done up for a date night. Not that you preferred one over the other, but sometimes you liked to keep your relationship light on social media. It was easier that way. There wasn’t any real pressure that way. Though the fans seemed to have enjoyed it when you posted more posed and serious content. 

You liked to keep it a bit more real. You and Calum didn’t do the whole nine yards a lot--you two were normal people who hated getting out of bed some days and went as well into the afternoon before showering at times and walked Duke and went to doctor’s appointments like everyone does. So you always opted for a bit of a joke, a silly Tweet or photo whenever you could. 

“What did you post?” you ask. 

He shrugs, taking up the knife to dice the onion. “I’m not telling you.”

You glance at the printed out recipe and get a pan on the aisle over medium heat before pulling out your phone. As you load the app, you listen to the snap of the knife fitting the wooden cutting board. You type Calum’s name and tap onto his profile. 

While there’s is silly--I do want to take a moment to show off my favorite person in the world. So here we go, The Face Vs. The Face Sitting On It. Below is attached a picture of him--you snapped while you two were out for lunch one day. The black t-shirt tight around his biceps as he slyly grins into the camera. The lights in the background are just barely in focus of the resturant and Calum’s glancing out of the window next to him. You remember that you were recording him, or at least you thought you were, and told him that he was handsome. Not the first time, but everytime he did, he blushed and turn away. And you captured it here too. 

The photo of you is actually one with him in it. The guys got together and did a big family dinner and the two of you posed at Crystal’s request in the slightly matching outfits. You hadn’t intended to match--though black was a staple in both your wardrobes. You were a bit different thanks to the pop of color in your shoes, but in the lighting of the street lamp, you had to admit that you did look hot. The first couple of  buttons on your shirt you were undone and with your hands tucked into the pockets, you looked like you owned shit. 

“While I hoped that you’d go with something more silly, I will take this,” you finally say. 

“That picture is literally my background for a reason,” he returns. 

You kiss his cheek and then trace over the stubble with your teeth to his ear. “Can I make a reservation for tonight?”

“The table is reserved for you literally at all times,” he returns in a breathe. 

“Good,” you laugh and then glance back to the recipe. 

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Bolin x female airbender (Tenzin’s daughter) Part 2

You and Bolin continue sneaking around as your relationship progresses but after a dangerous development the relationship between you, Bolin and your father becomes even more strained and changes permanently

Part One here

Your POV

Ever since your dad caught you in Bolin’s bedroom he had watched you like a hawk. He didn’t bar your windows like he promised (your mother forbid it as a fire hazard) but he did have the air temple island guards incorporate your room into their patrol routes, which meant you had soldiers pass your window about fifty times a day. He also disovered you were using Pabu to send messages to Bolin and made the fire ferret wear a bell so he could hear him at all times. He even enrolled your younger siblings into keeping track of you. Jinora wasn’t too interested but Meelo and Ikki posted themselves in the hallway between your and Bolin’s rooms and would yell anytime either of you left them. With all this you’d think you and Bolin would get disheartened or put off trying to see each other but it only made it all the more fun. You’d soon learnt the patrol routes and worked out the times you could leave out of your window undetetced. Pabu got really good at sneaking around will holding onto the bell so it didn’t ring and you enrolled Jinora to distract Ikki and Meelo when needed. Which you’d done today, you were supposed to be in your room but had paid Jinora to keep everyone away from your room so you could sneak out to see Bolin’s first probending match of the season. You’d asked your dad to go see it and when he told you no you’d taken it upon yourself to disobey him and go see Bolin.

The operation was tricky, there were two active patrols, multiple windows and a sea to cross to get to the stadium but for Bolin you took it all on. When you finally reached the arena you smiled and made your way to the fire ferrets training room. You knocked and the door was opened by non other that Bolin. “Y/n!” Bolin cried seizing you in a hug that, with the height difference, turned into him picking you up “I didn’t know if you’d be able to make it”. “Of course I would” you smiled as he put you back down “it’s your first match of the season, no way my dad could make me miss that”. You took Bolin’s hand and he stared at you with pure adoration. “Maybe we should...” Asami coughed pointing to the door and Korra nodded “yeah let’s go get some waters or something”. “But there’s water right here” Mako protested but Korra yanked his arm dragging him out of the room, leaving you and Bolin alone. “So how are you feeling?” you asked “nervous?”. “A bit...” Bolin admitted “we’ve been out of practice for a while”. “Don’t be!” you cried “you, Mako and Korra are an amazing team, you’ve worked so hard and you’re the best earth bender in this whole thing, you’re going to smash the competition, literally”. Bolin grinned bashfully “you think so?”. “I know so” you smiled and took a t-shirt out of your bag. It had the fire ferrets in writing across it with a picture of Pabu as honorary mascot. Bolin cheered in glee grabbing it from you “this is amazing! Where did you get it?”. “Had it made” you smiled “turns out my uncle knows a guy so I had him make me a batch”. You tugged it over your head and turned back to Bolin “how does it look?”. “Amazing, you’re amazing, you being here is amazing”. You grinned as Bolin drew you into a hug burying you against his chest. It had been a while since you’d been able to just be alone together and not have to worry about your dad or anyone catching you. You forgot how much you missed him, just being with Bolin and smiled. “You’re pretty amazing too” you smirked blushing and Bolin’s smile grew. He leaned in and you met him half way and wrapped your arms around his neck to reach his lips easier. Bolin smiled against the kiss but soon became transfixed by the sensation of kissing you. You also hadn’t been able to kiss Bolin in a while and especially not like this so took your time enjoying it. Bolin did too and he carried on kissing you, the intensity growing as you both got more and more passionate. “erm guys...” a voice called beside you and you both opened your eyes to see Korra waving awkwardly with Mako and Asami by the door. Water in hand and in full view of you and Bolin. You both blushed and Bolin let go of you “sorry...we didn’t hear you”. “Yeah well you were pretty busy” Korra smirked and you blushed even more as did Bolin. “We have to go now or we’re going to be late! I knew we shouldn’t have gone for water” Mako cried and Asami rolled her eyes. Korra and Bolin hurried to finish getting ready and Bolin put his helmet on and turned to you “how do i look?”. You retied the straps of his helment, ensuring it was on properly, and smiled “perfect, now go win”. You pecked his lips and Bolin grinned before going to stand beside Mako and Korra. The three of them were pushed onto the stage by the moving platform and you took your seat beside Asami. “So you and Bolin seem good” she smirked and you nodded sighing happily “we are, he’s perfect” you smiled watching him on the stage. “If only my dad would but out and leave us alone”. Asami noticed how quickly your face turned from joy to fury and frowned, she’d never heard you talk about your dad so negatively. "You know your dad’s just looking out for you right?" Asami asked you and you sighed "yeah but it’s so over the top, i’m not a little kid, he can’t stop me from dating just because he doesn’t like it and i could do a lot worse than Bolin". As if to prove it at that moment Bolin knocked the opposing earth bender off the platform into the water and you jumped up cheering for him. Bolin grinned glancing over to where you were when his smile turned into a frown. You were confused when you felt a presence behind you. A hand grabbed your arm tightly "what do you think you’re doing here young lady?" Tenzin asked and you groaned. "Answer the question" your father glared "you know I forbid you from coming here". "But why? Korra’s here and it’s the first game of the season! You can’t punish me forever for what happened with me and Bolin it was weeks ago!". "Ow I think I can and it’ll be for a lot longer now too" he glared "now go home this instance". You sighed glancing to where Bolin was getting ready for round two but nodded, if you didn’t go your dad would probably drag you there himself. "Fine" you glared at your father and left the training room.

You exited the building and headed to the docks for a boat back to air temple island. You were so angy at your dad you didn’t even realise there were people following you. You didn’t become aware of them until they were right behind you. You’d taken a wrong turn and ended up at dead end. They stood at the opposite end of the street blocking your exit. When you locked eyes they sprang into action, running towards you and you went in panic mode. You ran forwards and used your bending to propel yourself upwards and then altered your air stream to push off of a building and touched down behind them. You had no idea who these people were but didn’t want to wait find out, you ran. Not really paying attention to anything besides the people chasing you, you shot around every corner rapidly, jumping over fences and under any barrier you could, using air bending to help you in any way but it didn’t seem to do much, they were still hot on your tail. If anything more people appeared to chase you until finally you rounded a corner to see a man waiting with his back to you. The man turned and you saw a white mask on his face. It was Amon, the famous chi blocker who could take a benders power away and wanted to ruin the air nation, apparently starting with you. You went to turn around and run the other way but his men were blocking it, having caught up with you. You frowned knowing you couldn’t let them capture you and went to airbend upwards anything to get away but the man spoke. "I wouldn’t do that if i was". Ignoring him you tried it and were met with a flurry of wires latching onto you that sent you crashing back down hard. You hit your head hard and were barely conscious but the last thing you remembered was the masked face coming closer.

12 hours later

"This is all your fault!" Tenzin yelled at Bolin who frowned. Bolin had been out all night looking for you, he was sleep derpived, out of his mind with worry for you, hadn’t eaten in over 16 hours hours and was bruised and aching all over due to his probending game. So while normally he wouldn’t have talked back to your father he was too exhausted to control his mouth "my fault?" Bolin asked "how is it my fault?". "She snook out to come see you! She was there because of you! She’s missing because of you it’s all your fault and if anything’s happened to her I will blame you and only you" Tenzin yelled. Pama and Korra frowned as Bolin’s face crumpled but Tenzin didn’t care "I never should’ve allowed this in the first place, I want you out of my house immedietly! You’re a bad influence on y/n and I won’t have you dating her anymore". Tenzin was cut off when the door was thrown open and Mako appeared with you. You were walking but had one arm around Mako’s neck to help you. "Y/n" everyone cried and your parents both got emotional over your bruised face and slumped posture. Your eyes were red raw and they asked you a thousand questions but you didn’t answer any. You turned away and they looked to Mako confused. "I found her by the docks unconscious, it was Amon’s men". "That scoundral!" Tenzin yelled watching as you walked soundlessly to your room. "That’s not all" Mako said as Tenzin went to follow you "she told me...she tried at the docks but she couldn’t...he took her bending". The whole room went silent and they jumped as you slammed your door, sending shock waves through the house.

Hours later you still hadn’t spoken a word. You wouldn’t answer your mother or father’s questions, or eat their food, or allow korra to heal you. You just curled up in your bed and stared at the wall. It seemed nobody remembered Tenzin’s harsh words after Mako’s bombshell, Bolin especially. He was the first to offer words of encouragement to your parents, the first to offer his condolences but also to remind them you were okay, you were alive, that was all that mattered. Your parent’s worry wasn’t easily washed away though and they hovered in your room fussing over you in every way possible. Pema thought you needed space to process but Tenzin refused to leave your side. Bolin itched to rush to your side and be with you but he knew Tenzin wouldn’t allow that, so he sighed and sat on the floor outside your room waiting. He heard as Tenzin tried everything to break you out of your silence, soothing tones, hugging you, begging you, even being harsh and raising his voice but nothing worked. Exhausted Tenzin fell asleep on a chair beside your bed, while you stayed awake not moving or talking just staring at the wall.

When Tenzin woke up hours later you were gone and the plate of food beside your bed empty. "Pema" he cried jumping up and his wife rushed to him "Tenzin?". "Y/n she’s...". "She’s fine" Pema told him. "She’s eaten?" Tenzin cried showing her the plate and Pema shushed him. She waved her hand and Tenzin followed her to were you were in the living room. You were curled up on the sofa, knees against your chest, beside Bolin fast asleep. Bolin was asleep too, sat upright with an arm around you. You were curled up into his side wrapped in a blanket, what of your face was exposed was pressed against Bolin’s side. "She’s...i don’t understand". "When you fell asleep Bolin tried with her, he convinced her to come and eat, Korra healed her injuries while bolin sat with her and then she fell asleep next to him on the sofa". Tenzin felt a stir of anger and Pema rolled her eyes "don’t you dare get angry! You didn’t see all that boy did, y/n was in shock and he was so kind and patient, she talked, he got her to talk! And to eat and even sleep! She’s woken up a few times scared and whimpering and Bolin wakes up too and calms her back down. If you can’t see how good that boy is to our daughter and how much he loves her then you’re an idiot Tenzin". Tenzin gaped, Pema never spoke that strongly to anyone and never him but his wife was dead serious. “I...I just don’t understand, why him? Why does she feel safer with him than us?”. Pema frowned “because he doesn’t see her like we do, like you do...”. “What do you mean like I do?” Tenzin asked and Pema sighed. “When y/n was born I saw how much attention you paid to her, how you watched her every move right up until the time she first started air bending, I’ve never seen you happier than the day she started airbending and I get it, on that day you were no longer the last airbender anymore, there were two of you but Tenzin she’s your daughter first and sometimes I don’t think that you see it that way, she’s your future, your whole next generation of airbenders”. “Now hold on...” Tenzin started but Pema carried on “I know you love her but I saw your face when Mako said her bending had been taken away”. Tenzin went quiet feeling guilty and Pema frowned. “But Bolin...I didn’t mean to overhear but her first words Tenzin were “”my bending””. After all the trauma, the physical and mental pain she suffered her main shame was losing her bending. She was ashamed of herself but do you know what Bolin said to her? Without missing a beat he told her she was more than her bending, her bending didn’t define her, she was amazing with it and she’ll be amazing without it, I don’t think either of us have ever told her that”. Tenzin frowned looking at you so content with Bolin and nodded “you’re right, I see her as my daughter the airbender...i don’t mean to but it’s hard”. Pema nodded hugging Tenzin’s arm “I know you don’t mean it but y/n notices, she’s had those expectations on her shoulders since the first time she used airbending but Bolin doesn’t see her like that, he doesn’t treat her like an airbender and she noticed that too, that’s why he soothes her, thats why she sneaks out to see him, that’s why she’s do anything for him...he sees her Tenzin”. Tenzin frowned feeling teary and nodded his head “I was wrong about them”.  

The next few days Tenzin was amazed to see how much better you’d become. You were not your old self, you jumped at loud noises, didn’t smile as easily and of course couldn’t airbend but you no longer looked so sad. Sat next to Bolin you physically brightenned and relaxed. Tenzin noticed how attentive Bolin was to you, how concerned he was with your wellbeing and knew he had to apologise to him. He managed to catch Bolin alone and gestured for him to follow him. Bolin did so nervously and Tenzin led him outside. Bolin stood beside him a few feet away as if worried Tenzin would yell at him again. Tenzin wanted to show him this wasn’t one of those talks but didn’t know how so just started talking. “When Y/n was missing I blamed you” Tenzin coughed “I unfairly put all the blame on you and i am sorry, that was not correct, I shouldn’t have said that to you”. Bolin frowned “You don’t have to apologise, I know you were just worried and I mean you were right" Bolin said sadly "she got hurt because of me, that’s why i’ve got to help her recover, it’s all my fault". Tenzin could see the boys eyes were filled with tears and shook his head. "No i wasn’t right at all! She was there for many reasons but I was one of the reasons, she snook away because i banned her from seeing you so she had to be sneaky, not to mention i sent her home alone late at night..." Tenzin sighed "i know you’d have walked her home and would’ve protected her, you’d have never let her get hurt". Bolin seemed shocked but nodded his head adamantly "of course sir". "But that didn’t happen because of me. I was so scared and so fixated on protecting her from irrational things like you and because of that she got hurt". Bolin frowned "it wasn’t your fault either, you didn’t know what would happen". Tenzin nodded but didn’t believe the earth bender "you’ve been a big support to her, the most helpful, you got her to eat and sleep and walk and smile and even laugh" Tenzin sighed "she feels safe with you" Tenzin told Bolin "she trusts you, more than anyone". Bolin blushed and smiled looking back into the house "yeah well...i trust her more than anyone too, she means everything to me sir, honestly". Tenzin nodded his head "i’m starting to see that, i’ve been treating you like the enemy, a threat to my daughter’s safety when you’re my biggest ally there, you only want what’s best for her don’t you". "Of course" Bolin nodded "i lov.." before he trailled off going red "i care about her". Tenzin stared at him before nodding his head "go back inside to her". Bolin looked at Tenzin shocked. He expected this talk to be Tenzin kicking him out of the house but now he was literally inviting him inside. Tenzin repeated himself "go inside, you’ve proven yourself, i shouldn’t have needed you to do it so drastically and i’m sorry for that but i trust you son, i can’t think of anybody better for my little girl and i know i don’t need to threaten you about hurting her because i think you’d beat yourself up more than anyone could if you hurt her". Bolin nodded his head "totally". Tenzin smiled "you have my blessing". Bolin grinned thanking him and went to go back into the house when Tenzin grabbed his arm "but still if you hurt her...the air in your lungs won’t be safe from me, got it?". Tenzin watched to see the boy’s reaction but Bolin only grinned. "Trust me if i hurt her i’ll give you all the air from my lungs voluntarily I promise!". Tenzin frowned thinking the threat didn’t really work if Bolin was okay with it but the boy was already back inside the house

Bolin’s POV

"Y/n you’ll never guess what" Bolin called coming into your room but stopped seeing Ikki and Jinora sat on your bed with you. Bolin had forgotten tonight was the big sister sleepover but smiled to see how well you were getting along with both of your sisters. "Hey, what is it?" You asked getting up and Bolin smiled. "Hi girls, I just got back from a conversation with your dad...". "Ow no, i’m sorry..." you started but he shook his head "no it was okay, great actually". "Should we go?" Jinora asked but Bolin shook his head "no it’s okay, don’t worry i won’t be long" before turning back to you "he gave me his approval y/n". Ikki and Jinora got what Bolin meant before you did and gasped. "He did?" you asked glancing back at your sister’s dramatic reactions and Bolin nodded. "I know i couldn’t believe it either! He actually thinks i’m worthy of you". "Of course you are" you smiled "you’re the best guy i know". "Me too" Jinora added and you smirked at her over your shoulder. "That means a lot thank you" Bolin smiled at you all "but i just can’t believe your father approves of me, this is so great! No more sneaking around or hiding, we can be seen and honest with each other! I don’t have to hide how much i like you". You nodded blushing and Bolin paused. He looked like he wanted to tell you something but looked at Jinora and Ikki and decided not to smiling instead "so i just wanted to tell you that". You smiled "that’s great news i’m really pleased but you know i always approved of you anyway right? I didn’t need my fathers approval to know how great you are". "Of course" Bolin nodded "i just never wanted to come between you and your family, i’d hate to be the thing making you unhappy in any way". "That’s really sweet but you only make me happy" you replied and Bolin’s face lit up. "That’s amazing to hear" he smiled looking at you like you were the best thing in the world. You blushed and Bolin shook himself out of his trance "so i’ll be going, I know it’s the big sister sleepover so i’ll get out of your way, goodnight girls have fun!". "Goodnight Bolin" Ikki and Jinora called and you smiled "night Bolin". He hugged you and you smiled closing your eyes. You seperated and Bolin’s smile mirrored yours "i’ll be right next door if you need anything...anytime". You smiled "thanks but i think we'll be okay". "Okay good" he smiled before closing the door.

Your POV

Bolin’s visit apparently made an impression on your sisters too. "I like Bolin" Ikki told you as you got ready to go to sleep. "Me too" you smiled and Ikki continued "he’s so strong and handsome but also so sweet and kind" she sighed wistfully. "Yeah, how did you get such a great guy to love you?" Jinora asked in typical annoying little sister fashion. You shrugged “honestly I don’t know" you smiled "but i love him too". "Awww" Ikki smiled "you should tell him". "Yeah i think it’s about time i did" you agreed. Ikki’s eyes closed and you drew the quilt around her more. "I didn’t mean what i said you know, i was just teasing" Jinora told you "you’re both amazing". You smiled "thanks". She smiled at you and you closed your eyes. "I heard him telling you how our bending doesn’t define us" Jinora whispered "not even dad told us that y/n, Ikki’s right he’s really special". You smiled thinking back on the memory "he is isn’t he?". Jinora nodded "i’m glad you’ve found someone so lovely, i hope i do". "You will" you smiled tucking her hair behind her ear "i promise". "Thanks y/n" she smiled hugging you and you held your little sister. "Also if you don’t tell Bolin you’re in love with him soon I think Ikki will beat you to it". You chuckled and sighed "don’t worry i’m going to tell him first thing tomorrow".

---

I wasn’t planning on doing a part two but you guys seemed to like the first one a lot and who doesn’t love more Bolin?

[tonystarkhasaheart]

You Know Who I am

Tony Stark X Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Summary: Y/N a stripper who has a day job at Stark Industries and her boss pays her a pretty generous visit

Author's Note: Even though this is my first fanfic it will have 4 parts, hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Part 2 is on it's way soon.

I look up at myself in the mirror, eyes heavy from the weight of my lashes, dark, smokey.. yet sensual. Lips plump and red, a deep red nothing too bright.

I take a moment to glance at the room around me, girls in and out the velvet curtain, changing clothes, spraying perfume and adding last-minute glitter. I look at my phone to check the time 12:46am.

“Hot date tonight?” I hear from my left, I don’t need to turn to see who it is, most of the girls here don’t talk to me, except for Siren. Not her real name of course, but I guess when you have a real-life outside of this you don’t want anyone to know it. I don’t blame her.

I set my phone down and look at her with a gentle smile and turn to the bag I keep under my station between rounds, pulling out my book to read. I can feel Siren’s breathe over my shoulder. “Just some light reading?” She asks.

I laugh lightly “The lightest I’ve read in a while actually.” I smile to myself as I run my fingers over the title on the cover of Quantum Physics and Theories of the Mind.

“Don’t want to spoil it for you” she said scooting back a bit with her hands up feigning surrender.

I smile again, I forgot I actually like her sense of humor “It’s okay,” I look up from the cover, “I already know the ending.”

Before any more words can be exchanged, I hear my stage name being called by the house mom. “Bambi, you’re up sweets!”

“Thank you, Cassandra!” I place my book back in its place and grab my money bag turning to Siren one last time, “Why don’t we ever hang out, outside of here?”

“Because you’re too busy being a smart ass in the real world,” Siren says with a smile.

I wink at her before walking through the velvet curtains where it is almost pitch black, except for the neon lights circulating the room and spotlights on the main stage. I scan the crowd as I listen to my heels click on my way up to the DJ booth. A number of regulars and just as many new faces but the back of one man’s head stood out. I couldn’t quite place it at the quick glance that I got, but he was sitting front and center so it wouldn’t be long before I figured it out.

A dancer by the name of Scarlett was finishing up and I gave the DJ my song. He looked and me and shook his head laughing “You never fail to surprise me” I smile and look back at the stage to see Scarlett doing her best and receiving money from plenty of customers, but she was focused on one, and he looked like he couldn’t care less. Front and center with a profile that could kill, elbow on the arm of his seat with his head in his hand and his sunglasses pointlessly resting on the bridge of his nose. And then it hit me, not only was he like the richest man alive; he was also, indirectly speaking, my boss. Tony Stark.

I had only briefly met him once after my orientation at Stark Industries, so I wasn’t worried about being recognized. It was the fact that he was the man I wanted to wake up to every morning to study his brilliant brain. Now that, that did the trick. I felt heat spread through my body starting at my core and working its way to my neck. I rubbed the back of my neck as I shook off the nerves. I got this, just another customer, just one with a lot more money than most.

As the music faded from Scarlett’s song, I watched her pick up her money and try and shove it in her bag. The DJ started talking to the crowd and hyping up Scarlett as she walked around collecting some final tips. She got on her knees in front of Mr. Stark and leaned in real close. Without a single change in his demeanor, he pulled a single bill from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to her between his middle and index finger, as if he was trying to shoo her away. But even I could see it was a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. She looked at the bill offended and snatched it from his fingers before finishing her way around the stage. Once she was done, she passed me with a huff, practically cussing the billionaire out as she exited the stage to the back with her bag overflowing with money from the other customers. Something about being a ‘cheap micropenis douche who wouldn’t be able to appreciate a good dance if it hit him in the face. I shook my head pushing the waves of my hair over my shoulder as the DJ started to introduce me.

“If you thought Scarlett was good let the bar know and you might be able to get a private dance before she leaves tonight. But you might not want to leave just yet because next, we have our very best. A woman who can turn any type of music into your new favorite song. Here to prove it once again, the seductress herself, Bambi!”

I laugh to myself at the length of his introduction, but it’s true I like a challenge and today I picked a song that I normally wouldn’t have. “Back in Black” by AC/DC started playing and I couldn’t help but notice a certain man in the front’s ears begin to perk up at the first couple of notes. Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks on me but I swear I even saw him sit up a little straighter.

I took confident, sexy strides towards the front of the stage and swayed my hips in a circle once I got in front of the pole. I held it as I circled it scanning the crowd. I dropped my hips and rose sensual making my ass bounce to the beat before turning my back to the pole and rolling my hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mr. Stark lean forward in his chair hands clasped, elbows on his knees. He was invested and I wanted to give him a show.

I started to climb the pole and as I did, he slid his sunglasses off his face, looking directly into my eyes, staring deep into my soul with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. But I knew tonight I wouldn’t get to see the pain or trauma he’s overcome through his eyes because tonight, they were filled with lust.

Lust, passion..Possession.

As I slid down the pole his eyes never left my body. I gracefully landed on the floor and crawled to the edge of the stage. I turned to lay on my back letting the waves of my hair cascade off the edge, I arched my back looking straight at him. In a swift motion, almost a blur, my view was clouded by the storm of papers falling from the sky. Now standing directly over me with his hands firmly pressed against the stage on either side of my face. As lay there on my back I realized what just happened. I just made a billionaire rain hundreds upon my body and his face hovering over mine, was him making his claim on me for the night.

I sensually brought myself back to my knees slightly rolling in the thick layer of money that covered the stage. I twirled my ass in a way I know would make anyone weak and I didn’t have to look back to know he was all in. Crawling my way back to the pole using it to stabilize myself as I try to stand, simultaneously trying not to trip on the stage that I couldn’t see anymore. Now this wasn’t my first time getting rained on at the club, however when I looked down, the most notable difference between now and any other time it’s happened was that it was normally a slew of ones, maybe some fives, occasionally a couple stray twenties. But this... was all hundreds. Strictly Benjamin’s scattered across the whole stage to the point you couldn’t see anyone else’s money that was thrown during my set. I’m definitely going to need a bigger money bag.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Three trash bags, four security guards and five songs later, I just about collected all the money Mr. Stark threw for me. Now usually, we don’t get help picking up our money, unless it’s a VIP room shared by three or more dancers. However, because of the sheer amount of money and the fact that I was the club’s best dancer, they played favorites tonight. Not to mention girls from the back started to pick up bills that had overflowed from the stage onto the floor. Even some of the customers started pocketing some of the cash and honestly, could you blame them?

I immediately gave the bags of money to our house mom so she could cash me out for the night, but as I handed her my bags she told me I had a VIP room and she would put the bags in her safe until I was done. My heart sped up a bit as I hoped it was the very generous billionaire, but what are the odds that he would get a VIP room with me right after throwing a million dollars at me, literally. Technically I could’ve turned it down, I mean I definitely made more than enough money tonight, but part of me wanted to see who it was.

I touched up my makeup, ran a brush through my hair and freshened up a bit before changing my heels to a more comfortable black pair. As I walked through the curtains to the main floor, I could see Siren on stage dancing to “Body Party” by Ciara. I took note that the front row seat was occupied by another man. My heartbeat quickened as I turned towards the VIP rooms down the hall.

The closer I got I could hear the voice I dreamed of waking up next to. I took a deep breath primped my hair and opened the door to the room. His back was turned to me as he talked into his phone. He seemed unamused and inconvenienced. I took the moment to admire his figure as he hung up, not noticing my presence yet. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, oh how I’d love to lace my fingers through those tresses, before throwing his phone at the coach.

“I heard you were looking for a private dance,” I say as I entering the room further making my presence known.

Unfazed by this discovery, he turned around with that signature smirk. All doubt and suspicions placed aside I was standing in front of the Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist himself, Tony Stark.

“And I heard you were the best,” taking a step closer to me.

“Depends on who you ask,” mimicking his actions.

“I trust my sources,” he said looking me up and down “, they’ve never failed me before.”

“Once or twice is not never,” I scoffed remembering the time my team had to cover a minuscule mistake in one of the details for a new clean air prototype we were working on that could have cost the company millions because one of his “sources” said it looked good enough.

“What are you-” I cut him off, closing the distance between us and reach for his tie to play with between my fingers. The way the fabric felt between my fingers let me know it was no clip-on, job interview tie. It was probably custom-made and imported from France or something ridiculous like that.

“So are we going stand here and banter or did you want that dance. Or was that an excuse to get me alone?”

“You better watch yourself, princess”

“Oh,” I tilted my head to the side challenging his very existence “, or what?”

“You know who I am.”

“Hmm, so maybe I do, but we have rules here,” I push him back on the couch “, Sir.” I smirk before climbing on him and straddling his lap placing my hands on his chest on either side of his arc reactor. I feel him tense slightly as I touched his chest, maybe an insecurity. I scanned his eyes, easily reading everything that fed into my suspicions. He looked as if I would turn and run in fear that he was some sort of monster, at any second just because it was there. I bring one of my hands to his cheek and stroked it in reassurance, silently letting him know I wasn’t going anywhere and not just because he was paying me to be here. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and regained his cockiness. All traces of the vulnerable moment we shared gone as I slid my hand down his neck to rest on his shoulder.

“So, it looks like I’m getting my dance after all,” he said running his hands up my thighs and resting them on my hips.

I started to roll my hips in circles, biting my lip so I wouldn’t enjoy the touch of his hands on my bare skin too much, “It would appear so.”

“What does a girl like you know about AC/DC?”

“I’m offended Mr. Stark, a girl like me?” I grabbed the hair at the base of his neck pulling lightly, tilting his head back. He groaned as I rolled my hips harder for emphasis.

“That’s not what I—fuck.”

I smiled as he squeezed his eyes shut, admiring the twisted expression his face held. I took the hand that was resting on his chest up his neck to his face running my fingers over his lips, they parted instinctively, before cupping his cheek and leaning in close to his ear whispering, “Mr. Stark I’m afraid you know nothing about me and the type of girl I am.”

His hands slid further up my waist gripping me tightly. At least I’d have a couple bruises to remember him by. He opened his eyes and for the split second I saw them, they were pitch black. He growled slightly pulling me into the most animalistic, passionate kiss I have ever shared with anyone. Quick to reciprocate, I wrapped both my arms around his neck, lacing my fingers in his hair, desperately trying to grasp on to any bit of sanity I had left. He bit my lip asking me for the permission that I granted him oh so quickly and without hesitation. He moved swiftly and his presence was so strong I was intoxicated by his scent, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, flooding my senses with everything that was him. I pulled away reluctantly needing to catch my breath. It came out in gasps, but he didn’t miss a beat sliding down to my neck feverishly, desperate to have my flesh between his lips.

“Mr. Stark,” I moaned.

“Call me Tony,” he said.

“I-I can’t,” I gasped, fighting another moan.

“Why not, princess?” barely letting his lips leave my neck even for a second, not seeming fazed by my answer. I could feel the smile on his lips, I couldn’t give in.

“I just, I can’t tell you.” Whatever spell he had me under was about to have me sleep with my boss without him even knowing he was my boss. Not that it wouldn’t be consensual but I still wouldn’t want to raise any problems at work.

He hummed against my neck and licked from the base of my throat to my ear then peppered kisses back to my lips before saying, “You’re trying to hide something from me, but I’ll figure it out.” He started to stand and I slid off of his lap still in his tight embrace. He leaned down kissing the corner of my mouth and whispered in my ear, “You know who I am,” and with that, he straightened his jacket grabbed his phone and left the room.

There I stood lipstick smudged, high off the intoxicating drug that was Anthony Edward Stark.

[beansandavocados]

*SPOILERS FOR THE SECOND DREAM SMP WAR*

(everything I talk about is from tubbo, wilbur, and technos povs)

SHIT WENT DOWN TODAY LADS, GALS, AND PALS

okay everyone was on today. literally everyone and most of everything that happened before wilbur and tommy got on was just people bouncing from vc to vc, theorising who the traitor was, and last minute plans and loot gathering

tubbo and quackity had a moment before they gathered with techno, fundy, and niki. as they gathered, eret joined them and stated that dream stripped him of his title of king of the smp

they adopted eret into the group as wilbur and tommy joined the server

wilbur and tommy talked for a bit with each other before joining the pogtopia vc as they were yelled at by the same vc to join the call

once they did, chaos from that many people errupted and they moved from their spot to pogtopia over the span of a slow 10 minutes.

techno got tired of it and just yelled at everyone to head to his base under the lake. once they were all assembled in the public part of it, techno activated a secret door to a lower chamber with dozens of fully stocked chests full of weapons, foods, gear, and 5 full pieces of netherite armor

it was actually fucking crazy and everyone was wearing armor, except wilbur. once everyone gathered what they wanted, they returned to the surface where skeppy, bbh, and antfrost were waiting for them. the entire group of wilbur, tommy, tubbo, techno, quackity, fundy, niki, eret, bbh, skeppy, and ant made their way back to manberg

as soon as pogtopia was within range, schlatt and dream opened fire from eret's tower and the war officially started

pogtopia stormed the tower and chaos errupted. I couldn't understand anything anyone was saying but dream and schlatt ender pearled out of the tower towards manberg. idk if karl was actually fighting with dream and schlatt but he died several times but not really anyone else died

during the chaos, dream typed in chat asking to talk to wilbur. after agreeing to it and telling everyone to stand down, dream moved wilbur into a private vc. dream flat out said that schlatt's an idiot and wilbur was like yeah we know what's your point?

dream then says to join the vc with everyone else and after wilbur told everyone to shut up, dream said that they surrendered and led the group of like 15 ppl to the hto van. schlatt was there unarmed and defenseless

schlatt was washed up, drunk, and senile and it was actually really sad seeing the manburg dictator like that in the moment. jumping out of his stupor, schlatt started just punching fundy even though it pointless, he started calling quackity a flatty patty and so on and so forth. tommy eventually stepped in with an arrow loaded into dreams crossbow and pointed it at schlatt. words were exchanged and before tommy could fire the arrow, schlatt fell out of the world.

everyone was shocked but nonetheless, they started celebrating because the war was officially over and manburg was won back. in the celebration, wilbur told everyone to shut up again in order for dream to say that their was no traitor and he had lied about it.

more celebratory shouts and stuff happened, the vc was chaos, and whatever but wilbur told everyone to head to the podium. in doing so, wilbur told tommy to get on the mic as the president elect of manburg.

shocked, tommy took the stage for his first official speech as the president for manburg. tommy said it was a hard won honor to be on that stage back in manburg, and decreed that it was meant to be. he then said that manburg would again be known as l'manburg. everyone celebrated but tommy stopped them and said that he couldn't stay on as president, not until he got his disks back from skeppy. he then named wilbur as president to replace him

after tommy left the podium and wilbur stood in front of everyone, he decreed that the flag that signified schlatt's regime was to be taken down and l'manburg's yellow, red, white, and blue flag be errected once again. more cheers but wilbur stopped these as well and stated that technoblade had taught wilbur a lot and that in doing so, wilbur could no longer trust the government. wilbur conceded as president and named tubbo as president of l'manburg

wilbur left the podium and tubbo replaced him. tubbo have a fantastic speech and stated that they had a lot of work to do to fix up l'manburg but it was finally theirs again. and it was to be a place that everyone on the smp would be welcomed

everyone was finally allowed to cheer now that tubbo was the official president of l'manburg. while everyone was celebrating, wilbur said he'd be right back, exited the vc, and started making his way behind the podium. behind where the white house once stood...

wilbur than began to say chekhov's gun over and over again. he then entered the button room and sat down in the chair, looking at the button

eleven and a half stacks of tnt was rigged to blow under l'manburg and wilbur said that as long as the button was there, he just couldn't not press it

in the middle of wilbur's mental breakdown, the philza minecraft joined the vc and asked wilbur what he was doing. wilbur lied and said that he celebrating in l'manburg and trying to act cool

philza joined the game and spawned in the button room, behind wilbur

philza tried to talk sense into wilbur and tried to have him back away from the button. wilbur fully lost it and said that he was the traitor and had been all along

wilbur pressed the button, turned his back to it, and saluted philza as the tnt exploded and put a massive crater in l'manburg

philza killed wilbur and immediately took off through the crater, leaving wilbur in his madness as he laughed on. wilbur then stated that the traitor was both him and techno and that techno was going to spawn withers on top of the ruins of manburg

true to his word, techno spawned two and it was chaos, everyone was fighting a wither (one was called subscribe to technoblade)

in the chaos wilbur said that he wished the best to tubbo's presidency and that wilbur would be back very, very soon on the smp. he then ended stream and logged off

chaos ensued and tommy and tubbo managed some control after the withers were killed and asked everyone who remained on pogtopia/l'manburg's side to join a vc

techno then started lighting off his own three stacks of tnt on whatever was left of l'manburg. dream and george helped and everyone else who hadn't join the l'manburg vc just pretty much talked amongst themselves casually

in the mean time, dream said that his agreement with wilbur (I guess THE agreement about being a traitor idk) was that no matter what, l'manburg would blow up

I don't know what tommy and l'manburg talked about during this time, I had had to stop watching the streams but this is was happened today and holy fuck

*EDIT*

OKAY watching tubbo's pov and updating as I found out shit from the moment wilbur left to push the button and wtffff

they started taking down the festival decorations and dream said oh yeah no there was a traitor

cue techno immediately launching into an anarchist monologue, killing tubbo, and stating that both him and wilbur are the traitors

techno is now toeing the line of villainy with an amazing analogue and spawned the withers

philza immediately is just like alright, half of my kids are violent anarchists and so I'mma suit up in full netherite and help the other half

also george finally showing up after building a fucking house for two hours on the server

l'manburg is officially tommy, tubbo, quackity, fundy, niki, eret, karl, and philza

TOMMY AND TUBBO MOMENT IT HURTS

CONNOREATSPANTS WTF OOOOHHHHH SHIIIITTTTT and apparently someone other than connor and philza?? if I understood dream right

tubbo and quackity are talking and tubbo wants to clean up l'manburg and rebuild it on stilts and a glass tunnel through it all which is fucking cool

tubbo is president, tommy is vice president, quackity is the secretary of state, fundy is the fourman (makes everything run smoothly), phil is an advisor, and karl is the creative input

NEW L'MANBURG !!

l'manburg is not a government, it is a collective (so as not to have techno completely obliterate them for existing)

l'manburg is supposed to be peaceful and ask for permission from now on

DREAMON HUNTING IS GETTING GOVERNMENT FUNDING AND A DISCORD GROUPCHAT

okay now that's it's holy fuck

*EDIT OF THE EDIT*

IVE BEEN INFORMED THAT CAPTAIN PUFFY IS ALSO WHITELISTED

um yeah shit this was something else today and btw, this is all a bit, it's not real. don't get your panties all in a knot because of people roleplaying in a fucking block game

[mintminyoon93]

Our Close friend named Insecurity

         Henloooo minty back! Today I’m gonna sharing a little bit about my experiences face and deal with my insecurity. Now I try not to always deal with it, also found myself getting well to accept it, but sometimes it still hard to find the clear path or the exit door for my insane mind. So here we go…

         The first stage in my life i felt that kind of insecurity when I was in junior high school. Until now I can clearly remember that day when the best friend of mine suddenly told me that A (pseudonym name of the other girl) told everyone “how can boy having interest on minty and ask for a date, she is literally tan and ugly enough for have bf”, fyi back then I had tan skin because the distances from my house to my school was about 20km ish, and I got exposed really hard by sun and I wasn’t familiar with sunscreen, so you guys know how tan I was :’). I can told you, at that moment I felt my world like thorn apart, I grasply looked my skin and talked to myself what she told was true, I lost my confidents, and I just want that day to end quickly.

         Fortunately after I got that offensive words by that girl, I started to take care of myself by scrubbed my body, tried soooo muchhhh face masks, facial  (started when I was 13, and now I know that harmed my skin :’ ). I kinda felt crazy about did that activities everyday back then. But the hardwork never deny the results, and my skin slowly changed brighter than before, and I liked the results. My friends also told me that my skin brighter and I prettier than before. I was so proud of myself ihiii.

        After that moment I spend my life so peacefully, I entered highschool and made so much friends, I also dated a couple time and never got bad words towards my body again. And suddenly on 3rd grade I dated someone that until now I found out he is the most person who bring the insecurity on me. at the beginning his closefriends tend to compared between me and my ex exgf, they said the same words that my junior hs friend told. They said I wasn’t as pretty as the previous girl, I wasn’t that sexy or had a good body. And guess what, my exbf didn’t give a f*** to his friends, he wanted me just forget it. OF COURSE I CAN’T.  There were a lot of red flags my ex did, such as commit on cheated to many girls, gaslighted, and compared me with his girl friend (muchly his campus girl friend). My self confidents really hit the lowest part in my life. I realized now I dumbed my self. How can I lend and trust that kind of trash guy. Hell yeahhh young and dumb.

       I dated almost 4 years with my ex and at that time I had bad university life too. I felt so behind on my academic, also can’t made a friends too because I spend my time mostly with him. My worst era in my life . I hate myself because not good enough, not preety like others in instagram/ in real life, stupid, I also had family problem too. Oh my life was complete

      I got myself back in 2019, when I brokeup with him. I met another boy who brought me joy and happiness (but now we broke up too ahaha). In september 2020 I guess, I met BTS and diving in on their contents and felt really fallin love with them. They bring me a lot of happiness, and make me love myself more day by day. I never find persons/ figure that give these so much positive impact on me. I start to deal with my flaws, I start to learn a lot of things such as studying Korean, getting back to writing again, start to make an account where I can spreading positivity too. I feel reborn as a new person, a positive one.

       But after all, My insecurity mostly appear when I burn out, or get my pms day. I still battle with it. But I realize now I have place feels like home (BANGTANNN), whenever I feel that kind of emotion I hurry up grab and watch all their contents and musics which is soooo gooodd and motivated.

       Here is the summary, it’s okay to have the insecurity. Everyone feel it too. Just accept it, feel the sensations, it’s okay to cry and take a break from activities, if you have family or friends who can bring joy just catching up on them, got a chit chat. Life like a roller coster, very fluctuative, sometimes your life in the lowest point, but it can increase to the highest too. Just live in the moment.

Your Beloved Girl

Minty Yoon

[tetsuwhore]

𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐭 | 𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢

Description: you find yourself falling for the tall stranger at the amusement park. somewhat because he’s goddamn pretty, mostly because he’s the one helping you keep your shit together.

Warnings: mentions of staged blood/gore, just fluff really

Length: 1.1k words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

In your current terrified state, you could be forgiven for being too preoccupied to notice the scheming grins exchanged between your friend and the loud, crimson-haired boy who had been trailing behind you you two with his straight-faced friend. 

However, you weren’t sure you could forgive yourself for the embarrassingly loud whimper you let out upon realizing that you had lost your friend while walking along the dark, dingy hallway. Crouching down and cursing every deity you could think of, you pull your knees up to your chest and accept your miserable fate.

“Oh, fuck, this is it, isn’t it? I didn’t even get to tell my cats how much I love them, and now I’m going to die, I’m actually going to fucking die...”

“Sorry to interrupt your little soliloquy, but I can assure you, hired actors in a theme park haunted house are not going to kill you.”

If it wasn’t for the sinister piano music playing in the background, you swear, you would’ve heard literal angels singing. Looking forward at the large hand extended towards your pathetic form, you accept the help and lift yourself back up. Casting your head upwards, your eyes shine as you stare up at your saviour.

Who, coincidentally, happened to be the same very, very attractive stranger that you had been eyeing while waiting in line earlier.  

Unfortunately, you couldn’t quite afford to internally gush over this tall, handsome stranger as you were rudely interrupted by the sound of booming footsteps echoing within the narrow hallway, thudding closer to where you two were standing. Suddenly, the door just ahead of you flew open, and behind it stood the object of your worst nightmares. The burly, masked figure, clad in a bloodied butcher’s apron and welding an unnervingly large meat cleaver, began charging straight at you. 

Letting out a blood-curdling screech, you jump in fright, clambering onto the object closest to you in a frantic effort to escape the clutches of the Leatherface-esque psychopath. After counting down to a minute, you open your eyes cautiously, blinking in surprise upon realizing that you were indeed alive, with all body parts still intact. That’s when you realize that in your fit of panic, you had jumped straight at the tall stranger from earlier. 

And you also realize that he currently had you in his (very muscular) arms as he strode forward, seemingly unaffected by the theatrics of the haunted house. 

“Are you alright? You seemed quite panicked back there.” 

Flustered, you frantically motioned for him to put you down, as you spluttered, “Yes, haha! Absolutely, one hundred percent, totally not scared shitless.” Well, that didn’t come out as confidently as you had envisioned in your head. Still wobbly on your feet, you struggle to continue down the dim path, mind on high-alert for any more potential scares. Upon hearing your muffled yelps at every little creak, he moves closer before offering you his arm. Raising your brows at that, you stubbornly keep your hands to yourself.

Sighing, he said simply, “Just grab on to it.” Accepting defeat, you hesitantly hold on to his arm as he guides you along. Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you with that redhead dude? Where is he now?” 

“He didn’t make it.”

Now rationally, you knew that these were all staged frights and it was all just a fun attraction. But, well, you weren’t exactly in the most logical state of mind at the moment. With eyes the size of flying saucers, you whip around towards him, ready to demand further explanation before you notice his dry chuckle.

Oh. A joke. So he did have a sense of humor.

“Tendou told me to go ahead because he wanted to check out one of the previous rooms again. It took me a few minutes to realize that he still hadn’t returned back, so I assumed he had wandered through a different path and would meet me later at the exit point. Do you know where your friend is?” 

Too embarrassed to admit that you hadn’t noticed that your friend was missing because you were preoccupied with the unnervingly realistic actors, you simply shrug and tell him that something similar had happened in your case as well. As you keep walking, you realize, relieved, that you two had reached the exit point, and you find yourself finally relaxing. That is, until you see your friend and the aforementioned redhead, Tendou, both donning mischievous grins.

“You two sure look cozy.”

You feel the blood rushing straight to your cheeks as you realize that you still had the man’s arm in a tight grip. Even more embarrassing, however, was how you had practically nestled yourself against his broad chest, likely as a result of you subconsciously staying close to him in case of any more jumpscares. And, well, he was also really warm. Stammering an apology, you pull away from him before it finally hits you.  

“Wait, you two planned this? You left us alone on purpose, didn’t you?!”

Snickering, the two finally admit to how they noticed you two staring at each other while waiting in line, and decided to join forces to push you together. While you were still a little mad at your friend for letting you embarrass yourself by leaving you alone like that, you thank her silently for giving you the chance to interact with the handsome man. Whose name you still didn’t know...

“It’s Ushijima,” he tells you. So now he was telepathic. Fucking amazing. 

“God, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you earlier, I’m (Y/N). And I’m really sorry about being really embarrassing in there, and also for jumping on you and... Oh, I’m rambling, aren’t I? Anyway, would you maybe be interested in watching a movie with me sometime?” you splutter out, face still as crimson as Tendou’s hair. 

Before you could humiliate yourself with any more word vomit, he quickly answers.

“I would like that. Perhaps, this time we’ll make sure it’s not a horror movie?” he teases lightly, with a ghost of a smile on his otherwise stoic face.

“I’ll have you know that I can handle horror just fine, thank you very much!” you shoot back indignantly, knowing that you’d eat your words when it was time to actually sit through all the jumpscares. Oh, well. Thinking ahead never quite was your strong suit anyway.

“If that means you’ll be clinging on to my arm the entire time, then I have no issues.”