#I wouldn’t even mind if he cancelled my show because I saw him four times last year

[persephoneflouwers]

I have eyes everywhere. On every blog. 💀 When harry had to cancel some tour dates, the reaction was “Poor babe. He’s sick. I hope he can rest and get well soon 🥺” not a single fan said “he doesn’t give a shit about fans who spent money on plane tickets, hotel, cars, trains, ships, spaceships, ufos etc... now it’s all Louis’ fault. “Fans need an explanation. They need to know why he canceled a whole tour is asia. They need to know. This is so poorly written. His team needs to let fans know. Louis needs to come to my house and tell me why TF he canceled a tour is Asia! His tweet was so fake. He doesn’t care. Why is he acting like he’s canceling a Saturday night with his friends? LOL” and I’m here thinking...you don’t deserve to be his fans. “Leave this guy alone. Forget about him.” At the end of the day, these people can only criticize him. We don’t know what really happened. Why he canceled that tour. It’s wrong that it happened all of a sudden. I feel sorry for his fans. I’m sure he’s sorry too because he Couldn’t wait way to get back on tour. All I see his fake trolls saying “he canceled because he didn’t sell enough tickets” and I’m here saying “he even sold the tickets to your parents!!! That wasn’t the problem!” Something happened. Who knows what. But this “louis is this. Louis is that. I’m so disappointed...” sounds like the usual non larries/louies pretending to be fans. Just to spread hate. And certain blogs let them do that.

You were doing so great lmao then you dropped the “you don’t deserve to be his fan” and fucking hell, nope nope nope. You don’t get to say things like this. I’m sorry, but there are upset people who haven’t ever had the chance to see him. So, if they are disappointed for how poorly it all was managed, they have all the rights. We need to stop with these excuses. They’re big boys who know the pressure they are under.

He’s always there saying he loves his fans, he owns his fans everything and wouldn’t be here without them and then when unforeseen circumstances happen, it’s 🦗🦗🦗🦗. It’s a tweet, guys. It takes 2 minutes tops to type 140 characters on twitter where you mention 1. Your Asian fans 2. What was wrong. As I said in tags, he really went on instagram posting his xrays to say he was sorry for the London shows, but when a whole tour leg is cancelled, you type… that? People will find it weird. People will be upset. The fandom police should stop saying “you’re less of a fan for saying this or saying that” because fuck it, that’s not how it works. I think explaining what went wrong would do him no harm, because fans would understand and support him next time he goes in Asia, for example. You don’t have to say the actual truth… you have to sound credible and honest. That’s it. Otherwise next time your fans will think twice to spend money on your tickets, knowing there is a possibility for whatever reason that the show will be cancelled. Because the problem is not about the tickets per se, it’s all that comes with a show: booking hotels, flights, trains or whatever. And fine, that’s our problem if the show gets cancelled but you bet I would overthink until the next time I book something again for another show in general lol this is not a cult. You don’t happen to be blindly devoted, you have to pay back the support and loyalty with respect and empathy.

Don’t get me wrong. Things like this happen all the time. My maneskin show was postponed like three times for two years. Lewis Capaldi postponed it too. Shawn cancelled his tour, Stromae did et cetera et cetera. But he was in Tokyo saying he was excited for tour just a few weeks ago and now this? It’s upsetting and of course people will demand answers. Some people act like this privacy thing is the biggest deal ffs it’s just about being professional.

And I agree with the pressure part. I said it in tags a few posts below. It is tiring to always have to defend him from people calling him a flop or asking too much from him, but saying something more about why all of your shows in Asia got cancelled? This is not too much.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for not letting my husband have a say for the guest list of our baby shower?

I (21 f) and my husband (25 m) moved very quickly in our relationship, much to the judgement of my sister. We moved in with each other after a month of dating and she basically told me it was a stupid idea. We also got eloped with no family or friends there four months after that. When I texted my sister we got married (yes, I texted everyone instead of called) she asked if it was a joke and when I said yes then sent a picture of marriage license as proof, she didn’t respond for days. She called me later which I sent to voicemail, which was basically her crying saying she always imagined she’d be at my wedding and was hurt. I was upset because no one was invited or even told about the engagement; that was the point of eloping. The rest of my family was pretty happy for us though and I focused on that.

We didn’t talk for months because I wanted an apology, or at least a congratulations on getting married. She texted me a few times about nothing important (she sent a few memes). An apology never happened, but I started to text her again because I found out I was pregnant and wanted her to know about it. I called her about it eventually and she was supportive.

Before the Not Talking stage happened, her and my husband didn’t get along. She has made multiple passive aggressive comments about our relationship in the past. There was one time she visited us that made my husband upset because she showed up with little notice and also insisted on visiting again when our cat gave birth to her litter of kittens. She talked about helping and I didn’t really think anything of it. My husband later said he was upset she acted like she knew our cat better than us based off a couple of other comments she made and didn’t like how she invited herself over. I don’t think she meant anything negative about it, but it was annoying she insisted on one specific cat thing we told her we had under control and didn’t stop pestering until my mom called the vet to ask for advise and the vet agreed with my husband and I about how we handled the cat situation. I’m not sure if I explained that well but I honestly don’t know how to describe it without going into too much detail. This is just background info.

My husband and I wanted to do a gender reveal for the baby. We agreed on the theme and had a general date in mind. I invited my immediate family, best friend, and his immediate family that he talked to (which only consisted of three people). He said he didn’t want my sister at the gender reveal and this caused a huge fight. He said if she was there then he wouldn’t show up and I could tell him the babies gender on the phone. I cancelled the gender reveal because I didn’t want to uninvite my sister when she hasn’t made any bad comments in months and also wasn’t about to have my husband not be there. In my mind, there’s zero point in having one if both parents aren’t there. We found out gender by having our doctor write it down on a paper and we opened it later by ourselves. We told everyone over the phone what we are having.

Now, I am pretty far along in my pregnancy and my family wanted to set up a baby shower for me. I let them and we set up a date for it. My husband and I talked about the baby shower multiple times and looked forward to it. I Facebook invited the same people I invited to the gender reveal to the baby shower and he wasn’t happy when he saw my sister was again on that list. Him and my sister has only seen each other one time during these months, which was at a funeral. My sister initiated a handshake which he accepted and asked how he was. He answered fine and that was the end of it.

The baby shower argument was the same for gender reveal. He didn’t want her there and he didn’t want to come if she was there. He said I shouldn’t want someone who has done nothing but disrespect both of us in the past year to be at this event and should get a say in who comes and who doesn’t. There’s no excuse for the things my sister has done and said but it felt wrong to exclude her. If she wasn’t going to be invited to the baby shower, then what was his opinion on our son’s birthdays and other events? We couldn’t do this forever. She hasn’t been rude in months but we never got an apology. I’m also a little bitter about it but I’m trying to not be harsh. At this point, I didn’t say much when my husband said she couldn’t be there. This is because we just got done with a different argument about something completely different and he said he was done about certain things. I said ‘like what?’ and he told me he didn’t want my sister at the baby shower.

He said he wouldn’t have invited anyone that has disrespected me and I shouldn’t either. It sounds fair but it also sounds very black and white. I get along with the family he talks to outside of family events. I don’t get along with a couple of extended family members but he doesn’t get a say in who was invited to those events and never talks to them outside of those family events even before we were together. I didn’t really say anything for my argument because I knew he wouldn’t agree with it anyway. This sounds calm but he was very angry and I was crying pretty hard. He asked over and over again if she was coming to the baby shower and I refused to respond. If I say she’s not coming then I’ll have to follow my word and uninvite her, probably causing arguments within my family. If I say she is then he won’t come. (I’m not sure if this is relevant but my husband and I are both autistic and have been known to shut down and stim when we’re upset). He said he’s tired of being disrespected when I refused to answer for 30+ minutes and wanted a divorce. He crumbled up our marriage license and took my wedding ring off my finger.

He didn’t say anything about the baby shower and started asking questions about the divorce. ‘How much do you want in child support? When do you want to do visitation? Etc.’ I refused to answer for a while but he kept asking and I mostly gave vague answers like ‘whatever you want’ all while still crying. I didn’t say much except to say he was staying and we weren’t getting a divorce.

I don’t remember what happened next and what I said, but he eventually said that I had one more chance to choose him because he’s always chosen me. This is true because he has put me first. He works a lot while I’m not working this pregnancy and always makes sure I eat and everything. I’m not sure what’s going on with baby shower. I think he said that she can come if I put up boundaries about being nice otherwise she can’t come. I think this will start an unnecessary fight because she hasn’t done anything in many months so it seems insulting. I didn’t say anything though. We fell asleep and cuddled and he apologized the next morning before he left for work. He said he was more mad that I refused to talk. I, personally, was more upset about the marriage license he crumpled up. I still didn’t say anything but ok. He still hates my sister and expects me to tell her to be respectful.

I don’t know what to think really. I sound like a jerk for not letting him have a say for baby shower. It is his kid too. I also don’t want to divide my family by not inviting my sister, but he’s also my family. I know he acted like a jerk for the argument but that doesn’t necessarily means he’s wrong about the guest list and having a say. So would I be TA?

What are these acronyms?

[soursfilms]

gina wanted someone to fight for her. (a short sort of analysis on gina porter)

ej never fought for gina during their miscommunication in the season two finale. he just cancelled the date and let her go. if it wasn’t for ashlyn talking to gina, they wouldn’t of gotten together because he didn’t fight for her. in season three he said he was doing the musical so maybe his dad can let him stay in salt lake and they could be together, but we all know his dad’s approval was his main motivation. he ditched her and made promises he couldn’t keep. he didn’t fight for her when she gave him another chance to show up at prom. when they broke up, he deflected, bringing ricky up unprovoked, and then let her go, again, without a fight. (though they only dated for two weeks and what they had wasn’t strong enough for a fight but i digress)

when gina admitted to ricky her feelings in the last episode of season three, she was prepared to walk away with her head held high, but he stopped her, and like ej told ricky in season four, gina wouldn’t be with him if she didn’t know the guy he could be. all of season three ricky continuously showed up for her and regretted what happened the semester before. gina saw something in ricky all the way back in season one and she knew that he was the one. although it took some time, due to the fact that ricky didn’t want to make the same mistakes he did with nini.

gina would’ve loved to receive a bunch of messages from ricky telling her he wishes she could stay with him unlike nini would’ve. (which is so valid for her to feel! this is just me explaining how different nini and gina receive and view love) she doesn’t see it as him “holding her back” she saw it as someone who fights for what they built and she’s always wanted someone to fight for her, and ricky did that. he showed up for her and stayed. even if she would’ve left, he sang to the world how he’s in love and how they’re forever no matter what. that’s all gina has ever wanted. growing up no one in her life fought to stay in it. jaime left. her mom leaves her alone a lot of the times because of her job. her dad isn’t there. no one fought to be in her life that way. she’s so used to leaving and moving. then ricky comes around and promises her she’ll never walk alone (puppy love lyrics reference!) that they built a sacred home forever, and showed it to her continuously all season.

also, want to mention, in the troy and gabriella scene in the play, one of her lines is, “i always do the right thing, maybe i want to do something crazy this time. i mean, everything about my life has been full speed ahead.”

while ricky was worried of holding her back, or ruining her moment and saying the wrong thing because of his past mistakes with nini, gina wouldn’t of minded that at all. she wanted ricky to finally say i love you. to know what they have is real so they could fight for their love together no matter what happens next. (she already knew he loved her though, gina just needed him to say it so she could finally do “something crazy”)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?

Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.

Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.

“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.

You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”

Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.

There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”

“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.

“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.

“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”

“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.

“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.

“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.

“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”

“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”

“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.

“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.

Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.

“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.

“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.

“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!

“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.

“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.

“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.

“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.

“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.

“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”

“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.

“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.

“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.

“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”

“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.

“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”

They stay silent and you know you were right.

“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.

“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.

Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.

The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.

“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.

“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.

“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.

“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”

“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.

Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.

“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.

You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.

You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.

Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.

“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”

Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.

It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.

Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.

“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.

You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.

“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.

“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.

“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”

“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”

“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.

“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”

“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.

“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.

“See?” she smiles warmly.

“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”

“Harry Styles.”

You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.

“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”

Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.

“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”

“You and Harry?”

“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

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

[waitimcomingtoo]

Better Left Unsaid

Pairing: Deaf!Peter Parker x Reader

Requested by @peterspeaches

Synopsis: you ask Peter to tutor you in sign language 

Masterlist

Peter looked up when he felt someone bump into his table in the library, finding you standing there with a sheepish look on your face. You steadied the wobbling table with your hand and smiled nervously at him, giving him a small wave to greet him. Peter felt his face flush all the way to the tips of his ears at the unexpected encounter, forcing himself to wave back before he came off as weird. You seemed to relax at his greeting and sat down, fishing in your bag for a piece of paper. You slid the paper across the table for Peter, who looked up at you in confusion. You nodded, as if you give him permission, and he opened it.

“You’re Peter right?” Was written in blue ink in your handwritten. Peter looked up at you and nodded eagerly, pleasantly surprised you knew his name.

“Um.” You bit your lip and hesitantly looked down at your hands before showing him what you’d been practicing.

“Hi. My name is Y/n. I have a question.” You slowly and a little poorly signed to Peter. His eyes lit up when he realizes you were signing to him, something no one in the school had ever done. He chuckled a little at the determined look on your face and smiled in approval.

“What’s your question?” He signed back. You concentrated on his hands as they moved, smiling in excitement when you understood.

“You just asked me what my question was. Okay! This is going better than I thought. Um, I’m gonna write it.” You pointed to the piece of paper before taking it back. Peter watched you as you wrote him a whole paragraph before sliding the paper back over.

“My dad is has been dating this woman for a few years and I think he wants to propose. She has a 7 year old son but he’s deaf so we haven’t been able to bond all that well. I think my dads is hesitant to propose because he thinks I don’t get along with her son. I was hoping you could teach me some sign language?”

Peter read the note a few times to fully understand it while you watched him nervously. You suddenly grabbed the palate back and wrote something else before returning it to him.

“Please.” You had added, making Peter laugh. Peter took your pen and wrote down his answer, turning the paper around so you could read it.

“I would love to help you.” He had written. Your eyes lit up as you looked up at him with a smile.

“Really? Thank you so much! I mean.…” You stopped speaking and signed what you had said, remembering that Peter was deaf.

“You’re welcome.” He signed back.

“You’re welcome! I knew that one!” You exclaimed, getting shushed by the people around you. You and Peter exchanged a look before silently laughing. You wrote something else down and slid the paper to Peter for him to read.

“Could I have your number?”

Peter’s heart stopped momentarily as the girl he’d been pinning after for the better part of four years asked for his number. He quickly scribbled it down and shoved the paper in your direction, making you laugh at his eagerness. Your eyes darted back and forth from the paper to your phone as you typed in his number, sending him a quick text once it was in.

“I’m so excited for this.” An unknown number appeared on his screen. He looked up at you and smiled before texting back.

“Me too. When do you want to start?”

“Is tomorrow after school okay? We could meet right here.” You sent.

“That’s good. I’ll see you then.” He wrote back and looked up at you.

“Thank you, Peter. I love you.” You signed. He tilted his head in confusion and laughed a little, making you pout.

“Sorry. I don’t know that many phrases yet.” You texted him before getting up. Your reasoning made sense and he found it incredibly endeared as he signed goodbye to you.

“Bye!” You waved at him before leaving the library, both of you going back to your day with a satisfied smile.

~

“Hi, Peter. How was your day?” You signed one of the few phrases you knew as you sat across from him in the library the next day. Peter signed back something that to your surprise, you actually understood.

“Good?” You mimicked his movement and he nodded. “Me too.”

“Are you ready to start?” He texted you and you nodded.

“What’s the sons name?” He wrote.

“Levi.” You sent back.

“Follow my lead.”

You looked up from your phone and focused all your attention on Peter. He let out a nervous breath now that he had the complete attention of the girl he liked and feigned a smile.

“Hi Levi.” He sighed, spelling out the name with single letters.

“Hi Levi.” You followed his movements.

“Wanna play with me?” Peter continued.

“Wanna play with me?” You repeated Peter’s actions and looked at him for approval. “

Is that right?” You quickly texted and he gave you a thumbs up.

“Cool! What did we say?” You sent. Peter explained what you had said and watched you make a mental note of it.

“Okay. He really likes those little matchbox cars. How do I ask which one is his favorite?” You texted him and looked up for answers. Peter signed the phrase, watching you slowly lose your understanding.

“Sorry, could you do that again?” You texted him. He signed it again and you slowly followed along, doing it over and over until you got it.

“Which car is your favorite?” You signed. “Did I say that right?”

Peter read your text and gave you another thumbs up.

“I did?” You said out loud then remembered he couldn’t hear you. “Eee I’m so excited. I can’t wait to show him.” You texted. Peter smiled at you before motioning that he was going to continue.

“How was school?” He signed. You followed along and got this phrase pretty quickly.

“What does this mean?” You repeated the sign for “school” as you slightly recognized the phrase. Peter texted you the answer and you signed it again.

“School. Got it. How was school?” You mumbled to yourself as you practiced the phrase.

“Perfect.” Peter texted. “Now try this.”

“Need any help with your home work?” Peter signed another phrase he thought you might find useful.

“Need any help with home work?” You signed back before picking up your phone. “What does that means?”

Peter texted you a response and you sighed in content.

“This is so great, Peter. Thank you so much for helping me.” You texted him before signing “thank you”.

“No problem.” He signed back. You smiled brightly at him before texting back.

“Can we go over them again?”

That night, Peter was deep into his Calculus homework when he saw your name light up on his screen.

“Levi came over for dinner and I helped him with his homework! He was so excited when I started signing to him! Thank you so much!” You wrote. Peter smiled happily at your message, loving your overuse of exclamation points.

“I’m happy to help. When do you want to meet next?” He asked.

“Can we do every Tuesday and Thursday? I know marching band is on Monday’s and Wednesdays.” You sent.

“Not that I’m stalking you.” You followed up, and Peter laughed.

“Sure. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

~

You saw Peter sitting alone at lunch the next day, as you often did. Instead of walking past him and heading to your friends table, you placed your lunch bag next to him and took a seat. He looked up at you in surprise and closed his textbook, waving shyly at you as you smiled.

“Hi.” You signed.

“Hi.” He signed back. You put a note on his textbook and tapped it twice, signaling for him to read it.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” It read, making him look up at you and nod. You took a seat next to him and fished a pen out of your bag before writing something down.

“I want to show you something.” Peter read off the note. Peter looked at you expectingly while you gave him a shy smile.

“You look nice today.” You signed, eagerly waiting for his reaction. Peter smiled at you and clapped his hands before signing “thank you.” You beamed signed “you’re welcome.”

Peter took out his phone and sent you a text, patiently waiting for the days when you no longer needed to communicate that way.

“Good job. Do you have another tutor?” He teased, hoping you’d get the joke over text. The smile on your face told him you did as you texted him back.

“I wanted to surprise you with the phrase so I looked it up. I’ve been practicing all day.” You sent.

“You did a good job with it. I’m proud.” He sent back and applauded you again. Your heart melted at the proud look in his eye, something you hoped you’d see a lot of.

“Thank you.” You giddily signed.

Peter’s phone buzzed suddenly and he picked it up, seeing a text from his conductor that band practice was cancelled for the day. He made a face, which lead to you making a face, so he showed you his phone to help you understand.

“It’s cancelled?” You asked audibly, but he read your lips. He got an idea now that his after noon was free and brought your attention back to him.

“Do you want to come over after school?” He signed. You furrowed yourself eyebrows before picking up your phone to text him.

“All I understand was “school”. Can you do it again?” You asked. Peter repeated the motion before texting you what it meant. Your eyes lit up as you nodded at him.

“Oh, sure. Watch this.” You sent, making him look up at you.

“Where do you live?” You signed. Peter chuckled and texted you his address, as well as his plan for the evening.

“I’ll meet you at your locker after and we can walk. I want to teach you some of the basics before you learn any more phrases.”

“Sounds good.” You signed another phrase you knew. You and Peter sat there smiling shyly at each other for a moment before he realized why you sat there in the first place.

“Did you want to practice now?” He texted you, but you shook your head.

“No. I just wanted to sit with you.” You wrote back, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Good. Because I really like you.” He signed, knowing you wouldn’t understand him. Your face twisted in confusion as you tried to make sense of his movements.

“What does that mean?” You texted him.

“It means you can sit with me whenever you want.” He lied.

“Thanks. I’ll probably sit here a lot because I really like you.” You laughed at the admission as you said it out loud. He couldn’t read your lips fast enough and didn’t understand what you had said. He pointed to his phone, silently asking you to text it.

“Nothing.” You wrote. “Do you want a carrot?”

~

You sat on Peter’s bed two months later with a whiteboard and dry erase marker that you’d been passing back and forth. It was your temporary system of communication until you got better at sign language.

“Can I ask you something?” You wrote and showed him the board. He smirked and took the marker, writing a sarcastic message under yours. You looked at the board and made a face at him.

“You just did.” It read.

“Very funny.” You signed before picking up the board.

“Why are you in matching band if you can’t hear the music?”

“Because I can feel it. Watch.” He answered your message with his own before picking up his drumsticks. He hesitantly took your hand and pulled you over to his drum set, placing your hand on the barrel of the drum before sitting down. He played a fast, loud beat that reverberated in your chest. A smile tugged at your lips when you understood what he meant by feeling the music. Peter got up and grabbed the whiteboard, writing a message down and turning it to show you.

“You feel that?” It asked, and you nodded.

“I feel a lot of things for you, actually.” You said, but he didn’t hear.

“What was that?” He signed in confusion.

“Nothing.” You signed back. Peter gave you a funny look but dropped the subject as you began to look around his room.

“You have so many movies. Which ones your favorite?” You looked at him and signed. Peter pulled out a Star Wards movie from his collection and handed it to you.

“Really? Aren’t action movies really loud though?” You wrote on the board, not knowing how to say all that in ASL.

“Subtitles exist, sweetheart.” He signed to you.

“What was that last part? You better not have called me a mean name.” You signed back and stuck your tongue out. Peter just shrugged and pretended to whistle.

“Peter Parker. What did you call me? I demand to know.” You signed again, making a false angry face at him. Peter shut his eyes so he couldn’t see you, making you shove him playfully.

“Do not close your eyes when I’m speaking to you!” You wrote on the board and shoved it in his face. Peter’s body shook as he laughed at his own joke, making you laugh as well before sticking up the middle finger at him.

“See? I already knew that one. I didn’t need you to teach me.” You wrote and flipped your hair.

“I called you sweetheart, which is what I would call you all the time of you were my girlfriend. But you’re not my girlfriend because I’m too scared to ask you to be and don’t want the possible rejection to ruin our friendship. That doesn’t stop me from being hopelessly in love with you though.” Peter signed his true feelings. You tilted your head as you tried to follow along, but lost him almost right away.

“What did you say? All I read was “you”.” You wrote down.

“I said you’re gonna have to study more if you want to keep up with the master.” He wrote under your message.

“We study every day. I’m basically fluent. Try me.” You signed to him with a poised look.

“I am so in love with you it hurts.” Peter signed to challenge you. You grimaced and grabbed the board again.

“You are having a heart attack?” You asked, not having understood what he said. Peter laughed sadly and shook his head at you, wondering when you’d finally understand him. He took the board from you and wrote his own message, deciding to drop the subject.

“Sure. Let’s go over homophones again.”

“I absolutely hate homophones. We have been doing them for two weeks and I’m sick of it. You’re lucky I’m absolutely in love with you, you idiot.” You told him after reading his message. Once again, he failed to read your lips and was left in the dark.

“What was that?” He sighed and you waved your hand in dismissal.

“I called you an idiot. Now teach me some signs.”

6 months later

“Hey Peter.” You signed as you approached Peter at his locker. “Guess what?”

“What? You finally decided to give me my shirt back?” Peter signed before tugging on his own shirt that you were wearing. You had stolen it the previous week after a particularly long lesson.

“Nope! Even better. I found a ring in my dads dresser!” You signed excitedly.

“Wow, really? How did you find it?” Peter wondered.

“I accidentally found it in his sock drawer when I was looking for a ring!” You signed in response after taking a minute to comprehend what Peter had said.

“So he’s proposing?” He asked.

“Yes! He has a dinner planned for this Friday night and he’s doing it then.” You slowly signed the longer phrase, messing and mixing up a few words along the way.

“How do you know?”

“I asked him when he was doing it.” You signed and made a “duh” face. Peter gave you a knowing look for snooping through your dads belongings but you just rolled your eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just excited.” You signed and slung an arm around his shoulders. You began to walk towards class like that, ignoring looks from the students around you.

“I’m happy for him. And I’m happy for you.” Peter signed with a proud smile. You smiled back before pulling out a note you had written him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sign it all.

“I wanted to ask you to be my date to the dinner. Her whole family is gonna be there and my dads side will be there too.”

Peter looked up from the note with a hopeful expressing as you bounced on your toes.

“You want me there with your family?” He signed and you nodded eagerly.

“You are my family, Peter.” You sighed back. “You’re basically the reason this is happening.”

“Your dad is not proposing because of me. He doesn’t even know me.” He signed with a skeptical face.

“Yes he does.” You rolled your eyes as you signed. “I talk about you all the time, dummy.”

“Well I sign about you all the time to May.” Peter responded, making you laugh loudly.

“Is that a yes to dinner? You know, since you’re so obsessed with me.” You signed with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Yes. I will be your date.” He sighed back with a smile. You threw your arms around him and hugged him tightly to say thank you and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you!” You signed. “I’ll text you the details.”

~

Peter stood next to you at your dads dinner in the one nice shirt he owned and pants that were just a bit too big. You stood next to him in a short black dress, nervously chewing your lip as you looked around the room.

“That’s Levi.” You signed and pointed to the boy. “And that’s my soon to be step mom.”

The pair spotted you and waved, immediately making their way over to you and Peter.

“They’re coming. Be normal.” You quickly signed before plastering on a smile.

“Hey Levi! I like your bow tie. You look super cool.” You signed to Levi, and the young boy smiled.

“Thank you.” He signed back and hide behind his moms legs. Peter knew exactly how he was feeling and frowned. He knew what it was like to be in a loud room and not hear a thing, and how overwhelming it could get. He knelt down to Levi’s level and gave him a small smile to let him know it was okay as you began to talk to his mom.

“Hi Levi. My name is Peter.” He signed. “That’s a cool watch you have on.”

Levi looked down at his watch and smiled a toothless grin before looking back at Peter.

“Thank you. Do you like Star Wars?” He signed back, taking a cautious step away from his mother’s leg.

“I love it. What’s your favorite movie?” Peter asked.

“I like Revenge of the Sith.” Levi answered.

“No way! Me too!” Peter signed excitedly. “We should get Y/n to watch it with us sometime. She really likes spending time with you.”

“I like her too.” Levi signed, fully away from his moms leg now.

“You’re a cool dude. Us deaf kids have to stick to together. I’ll see you at dinner.” Peter signed before holding his fist out. Levi gave him a fist bump as a huge smile lit up his entire face.

“See you.” He signed before walking away with his mother. Peter got up and looked at you, giving you a smile shrug.

“Cool dude.” You signed to tease him as you raised your eyebrows playfully.

“Leave me alone. I don’t know how to talk to children.” He signed back.

“Clearly you do. I’ve never seen him smile that much.” You told him. “Thanks for being nice to him.”

“Excuse me, are you Peter?” Your soon to be step mom ran back up to you and signed to Peter. She had been so distracted by her conversation with you that she hadn’t noticed Peter and Levi. But after walking away and watching Levi happily sign about the nice deaf boy he met, she had to say something.

“Yes ma’am.” He signed back.

“I just wanted to thank you.” She have as an emotional smile. “My son doesn’t meet a lot of deaf people and that interaction meant a lot to him. Thank you.”

She pulled Peter into a tight hug and you heard the air leave his body. He looked at you for help and you just gave him a thumbs up.

“She’s a hugger.” You signed with a wicked smile.

“Okay. Sorry.” She signed and wiped a stray tear. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Peter turned to you once he walked away, body still aching from the hug.

“She seems nice.” He signed, and he meant it.

“She is.” You signed back. “Come on, let’s go take a seat.”

Halfway into dinner, your dad tapped his glass with his fork and stood up. You tapped Peter’s shoulder and pointed to your dad before giving his hand and exciting squeeze.

“Hello everyone. I know it’s not a normal thing to make speeches at dinner, but this is important. As you all know, Sharon and I have been seeing each other for quite some time now.” Your dad took Sharon’s hand and looked around the room. As he spoke, you translated a majority of his speech so Peter and Levi could follow along. Peter was so enchanted by how far you’d come with your signing that he didn’t fine back into the speech until he heard-

“Yes!” Sharon exclaimed. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Everyone clapped except for you and Levi, who did the ASL version of clapping. Peter laughed at what you opted for and did the same, leaning into you endearingly.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” You sighed. Peter’s eyebrows knit together I’m confusion so you rolled your eyes.

“Now you have to be my date to the wedding.” You signed and his face heated up in a blush.

“I would love to.” He signed, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

One month later

“Great job today.” Peter signed as he closed his ASL text book. “Your reading and pace is getting a lot better.”

He got up to put his textbook on his desk, but you grabbed his sleeve to keep him in place.

“Peter, wait.” You signed. “I’ve been practicing something behind your back.”

“Go ahead.” He signed as he sat back in his seat. You bit back a smile and hesitantly looked at your hands, trusting them and Peter’s tutoring to carry you through. You shyly looked up and Peter and began to sign.

“You’re my favorite person to talk to. I really love spending time with you. I feel like you’re the only person who really hears me, no pun intended.” You laughed nervously and he did too. “And so, I have a question for you.”

“What’s your question?” He signed with a smirk, remembering your first conversation.

“Um...” You mumbled and looked down at your hands again, squeezing your eyes shut for the next part.

“How do you say “kiss me” in sign language?” Your eyes fluttered open after you signed the rehearsed phrase, nervously waiting for Peter’s reaction. He tilted his head in confusion and signed it for you, too naive to understand why you were asking. Of course, you had googled how to say it so you could recognize it when he did it.

And you recognized it.

“Okay.” You signed back before leaning in and kissing him. You heard his breath hitch into his throat as a small sound emitted from the back of it. Peter’s eyes widened as his lips touched a girls for the first time. His instincts kicked in and he cupped your face in his hands, leaning closer to you to deepen it. You pulled away to gasp for air, laughing shyly as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’re my favorite person to talk to, too.” He signed before kissing you again.

~

You found Peter at his locker the next morning, eager to show Peter what you worked on once you went home the night before.

“I have to show you something. I’ve been practicing this all night.” You signed with an elated smile. Peter nodded, signaling for you to go ahead.

“Oh, wait. Almost forgot.” You signed before grabbing Peter’s face to kiss him. He smiled against your lips, deeply loving your new way of greeting each other. You pulled away and looked at your hands, mentally rehearsing the phrase before you showed him.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” You signed slowly and hesitantly as you looked at Peter. It took him a minute to register what you were trying to say, but once he did, he excitedly signed “yes.”

“Yes?” You asked and he signed it again. “He said yes! He said yes, everybody.” You cheered as you pulled him into a hug. He couldn’t tell what you were saying, but the ecstatic look on your face was enough. You kissed his cheek a few times before pulling away with a grin.

“You can’t hear but I’m yelling.” You signed, accompanied with a laugh.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Peter signed as he rolled his eyes at you.

“You shut up. You’re so loud.” You teased him before kissing him again.

1 year later

“You got this, sweetheart.” Peter signed as you got ready to deliver your speech at your dads wedding. As promised, he had come as your date. You had done a decent job of signing the vows to him, your speed and memorization improving every day. Now it was time for your speech and you and Peter had been practicing something special.

“And I believe my daughter has a few words.” You heard you dad say, snapping your attention away from Peter. He squeezed your hand for encouragement as you stood up, giving you a soft smile to relax you. You took a deep breath and looked out at the table, never letting go of Peter’s hand.

“Hello everyone.” You signed and spoke out loud at the same time for Peter and Levi’s sake. “My name is Y/n and I’m the daughter of the groom. I had some things I wanted to say to my old family and to my new family. Whew.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter for courage. He kissed the back of your hands and held up a symbol he hadn’t taught you, but you already knew.

Middle finger and ring finger bent to touch the palm with pointer finger and pinky extended, the way to say “I love you” in sign language.

Peter telling you he loved you for the first time gave you the courage you needed to continue the speech. You spoke about your dad and Sharon for a while before turning your attention to Levi.

“And to Levi, I’m so happy you’re my brother.” You didn’t speak this part and only signed. “I can’t wait to see who you grow up to be because the person you are now is amazing. I promise that I’m going to try my hardest to be the best big sister you could ask for. As long as I’m here, you will always have someone who cares about you. Welcome to the family. I love you.”

Levi looked at you with the biggest smile, feeling empowered to know he wasn’t the one who didn’t understand what was being said anymore.

“I love you too. I’m glad you’re my sister.” He signed back, making you tear up. You thanked the guests and took your seat again, continuing the rest of the reception with content bliss.

Peter held your hand as you walked towards a gazebo that had been dawned with fairy lights, a popular place for photos during the night. You were both in need of a break from the dancing and the gazebo just so happened to be empty. Peter lead you inside and twirled you around, smiling as you rested your head on his chest. You began to slow dance to music that wasn’t there until you pulled away.

“That went so phenomenally well.” You signed to him. “When do things ever go to plan the way that just did?”

“I guess the universe is on our side.” He signed back with a smile.

“It must be, if it brought me to you.” You signed, tears of joy coming back to your eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Peter signed, wanting to say it over and over now that he had gotten the first one out of the way.

“I love you more. I can’t wait to sign “I do” to you one day.” You signed, making Peter gasped. Your smile fell at his reaction and you realized that might have been too much too soon.

“Did I just ruin the moment and say too much?” You grimaced as you signed. Peter came back to his senses and shook his head before pulling you into a kiss. He wasn’t afraid of what you said, just taken aback by you taking the words right out of his mouth.

Or, well, you know what I mean.

“No.” He signed once he pulled away. “You said just enough.”

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[hanibalistic]

#5B52AD | NA JAEMIN. NCT DREAM.

genre | fluff, friendship

word count | 2835

warning | a fever, mention of pain

note | i got kind of sick after my first dose of vaccine and i think about is my mother used to sit and rub my tummy whenever i get tummy ache even when it’s 3am.

your body felt heavy, you could not walk without an awkward arch of your back and at an annoyingly slow pace. you haven't gotten a migraine in so long that the gentle ringing in the back of your head now felt like a gradual decomposing of your brain. your tummy gurgled obnoxiously from time to time, confusing your body and mind with hunger and pain.

long story short, you were sick. you got sick, unfortunately, after a streak of good health for the past years, and you barely knew how to take care of yourself now because of how unusual the occurrence was.

you suspected it was the pouring rain you walked under the other day, or the multiple cold nights you've stood through in the unorganized tent area backstage during award shows this past few weeks. either way, since there weren't any other possible reasons, bad weather was the only thing you could blame your sickness on.

you had contacted the team manager about taking a few days off, leisurely estimating your return date while the manager told you to take your time and make sure to only work once you have fully recovered to avoid spreading your sudden fever to the dreamies when you get back. another thing you also asked of, with more grit and firmness this time, was to make sure the manager leak not a single word of you being sick to the boys.

it was true that you have not been sick in a long while, but so far you have gotten a grip on how it works and adapted to being uncomfortable and alone. reminding yourself to take those over-the-counter medicines was annoying but doable. moving around the apartment so you could cook and clean was exhausting but also doable. you did not need an extra pair of hands; it would definitely be good to have one, but you could survive without one.

you knew very well if the boys knew that you caught a fever, they would insist on visiting and taking care of you.

they would probably try to pull up to your apartment with some homemade soup and old movie discs, rambling on and on about sneaking out and forcing the driver to come to your apartment estate, complaining about you keeping everything a secret from your friends. then they'd get unreasonably mad at you for not visiting a doctor, and they'd force you to stay in bed while promising to take care of everything. they would be loud, and destructive, and annoying and—ugh! everything you do not need when you have a fever burning on your head!

"oh, finally!" you groaned in tired delight when you heard the doorbell ring. you have been waiting on the jajangmyeon takeout you ordered about fifteen damn minutes ago (to be fair, it felt like two hours with that migraine in your head).

shaking the shiver off your back when you stood on the cold wooden tiles with your bare feet, you grimaced at the pair of fuzzy socks you previously pulled off out of spontaneity, not wanting to bend down to get them from the ground. you stepped on then as you moved begrudgingly from the messy couch, where your blanket and tons of pillows resided, to the front door.

you unlocked your door with some trouble, finding it hard to stand on your legs and twist the lock. when you slowly swung open the door, you muttered, "sorry for the delay, it's kind of hard to–huh."

you cut yourself off when you saw the sight of renjun handing cash to your delivery man and patting him on the back as he bowed and left your house with your jajangmyeon. your eyes pulled back to look at the bigger picture—four people present before your apartment door, all wearing the same reaction to your figure uncared for.

renjun has turned his attention back from your delivery man and his grimace deepened when he saw your red face. donghyuck pulled a face at you when he saw your terrible posture and dead expression, and he tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand. jeno was frowning in disapproval with one brow raised as if you were spreading the bacteria to him but he was too polite to cover himself up. jaemin looked like he didn't want to be here, like always, but for a moment you saw his eyes flicker with soft concern over your visibly sick posture.

you sneered. that bastard! the manager snitched on you and here came the power rangers of the 2000s judging you at your front door! you would not take this absurdity!

"goodbye," you muttered blandly before you went ahead to close the door on their faces, but a hand swiftly reached out and blocked the door frame from meeting its end.

jeno smiled casually at you from the side, his arm muscle flexing as he, with no effort against your sickened strength, pushed the door open. you attempted to struggle against him, but obviously you were of no match for him, riddled with a fever or not.

"lee jeno," you warned.

"[full name]," he returned.

you clicked your tongue. you were too dizzy to get angry, but the rumbling inside your chest sounded anyway so you wouldn't be so overwhelmed by the boys' relentless care that you forget you didn't like this nor want this, that this wasn't ideal for you.

"please leave," you asked. "i don't need help."

"no. we're coming in whether you like it or not, [name], so give it up," donghyuck mentioned as he gently brushed past you into the apartment. "and before you ask–no, we are not leaving. we got our phones, and we brought movies. we also have to take care of you, so we got plenty to do here. we won't get bored."

you rolled your eyes as the rest of the boys followed behind. kicking their shoes off and placing them neatly to the side, they slowly began acting as if they were back in their humble abode.

donghyuck headed over to the coffee table before your couch. he grimaced at the sight of falling blankets and unorganized pillows as he placed the bag on the surface, then he turned to renjun, "renjun, where do we put the soup?"

"not on the coffee table, take it to the kitchen!" renjun exclaimed as he pointed aimlessly at a spot.

donghyuck listened. as he made his way to your open kitchen, he began rambling off. "you know, i can't believe you didn't tell us you were sick. i knew something was up when you were absent for more than a day!"

renjun nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, looking to you with a semi-displeased expression. "he is right. we are all friends here, you should tell us if you need some help."

just having them around your apartment was enough to make you want to jump out the window. it was nothing personal against the boys, though. you would have felt the same with just about anybody who dared enter your territory when you felt uncomfortable. but the way they never stop talking—ugh, it made you want to end it altogether so you didn't have to listen to their voices overlap each other in such annoying frequency.

"if i needed help, i would have asked," you dragged out through gritted teeth.

donghyuck snickered from the sink, rolling his sleeves up and getting ready to do the unclean dishes. "oh yeah, that's why you have no clean bowl and spoon to use!"

"also, why are all your stuff here on the couch, [name]?" jeno complained as he picked up your heavy blankets in his arms. he popped his head out from the side and eyed you. "i'll take them back to your room, you should stay in bed!"

jaemin leisurely approached the coffee table, his face was bland with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. despite acting like he didn't want to be here, his curiosity to know whether you were doing well alone was killing him inside; you weren't, it appeared. he gazed around your apartment with feign disinterest before an opened box caught his eyes.

bending down to pick up the medicine, he furrowed his brows and turned to you. "these aren't doctor prescribed medicine."

ignoring the drowsiness in your eyes, you looked at the displeasure on jaemin's face before you sighed, "i didn't see a doctor."

"you what?" jaemin exclaimed in disbelief while the rest of the boys gasped in what sounded to be disapproval.

there it went. there came the wave of complaints and disagreement piling out of their mouths like rainwater flooding into the ditch. the migraine in your head magnified the more frustration built up inside you, trying to force you to explode on the boys who only meant well.

"yes, i didn't visit a doctor. stop making a big deal out of it," you retorted, straining your voice to make yourself heard. "do you know how expensive an appointment at the clinic is?"

"still! it's always better to visit a doctor!" renjun pointed out softly.

the others agreed with him like dominos, opinions falling on top of each other in the form of noises. you closed your eyes in hopes to cancel their presence, but they've been talking nonstop it felt impossible to ignore them.

their voices were adding to your nausea, too many words to understand and to process that you felt useless not being able to retain their words as quickly as usual. it made you want to vomit, it made your chest tighten, it made your tummy hurt.

"god... please... shut up," you muttered under your breath as you glared at the floor. "shut up... stop talking... stop talking!"

the heat burst.

"[name]..." jaemin began cautiously, dropping the empty box of pills on the table as he eyed you sturdily.

you grimaced; your lips quirking down in guilt and your eyes darting elsewhere but their faces. seeing their innocent, good-intentioned, widened eyes would just make you feel like a bad person more than anything. shaking your head, you waved your hand at them dismissively and proceeded to turn away.

"thank you for coming, but please leave because i don't need your help," you said, "i'm gonna go to bed. lock the door when you leave."

the boys watched you move back to your room slowly, still surprised at your sudden outburst. they half-expected something like this to happen, but not exactly the way it turned out. they did come here fully prepared to be kicked out kindly knowing well your inability to accept aid from others, but the event has taken a turn for even worse, it seemed. they had not expected you to yell at them.

donghyuck turned away from the sink, his confused gaze darting between the door to your bedroom and the rest of his friends. "we're not actually leaving, right?"

"no, but we will leave them alone," jeno mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. "for now, at least."

jaemin's eyes trailed after your steps and they have yet to tear themselves away from your bedroom door.

he knew you well, better than the rest of his friends if he could say so. even though you might have meant what you said, you wouldn't do anything if they refuse to listen. and the consequences of adhering to your request and leaving you alone when you just did something you didn't want to would outweigh those of them not listening to you.

you don't need help, you never ask for them, whatever reason that was. but you do want them when they were presented to you. he knew that much, at least.

"jaemin, where are you going?" jeno asked when he saw his friend shuffling across the small living room.

nobody talked when jaemin moved to your room and knocked on your door. he pushed it open without waiting for your permission, and the stifled cries stayed beneath the walls unknown to the outsiders. he softened at the sight of you helplessly rubbing your tears with your forearm, wanting nothing more than to coddle you, but he leaned against the door instead.

"feeling bad now, are we?" jaemin said to catch your attention.

your head hurt, the pain was piercing. but nothing shattered you more than realizing you were a bad person for refusing help from good people who cared about you, realizing the mortifying cycle of loneliness you cannot thrust yourself out of because you could not accept any form of good social interaction. you were never one to cry from those whimsical things, you were used to it, but the thought of your friends shuffling out of your apartment and leaving the area dead cold made you cry.

you still have them now, but for how long, really? how many more "leave me alone" and "i don't want your help" would they take until they truly leave you alone for good?

you sobbed out breathlessly, your words continuously getting cut off against your will. eventually, you made out a sentence.

"jae-jaemin, my head hurts."

like a sharp shot through his heart, jaemin wavered and crumbled. he wasn't sure if this kind of melting was good, but he was taking the ache along with him. he approached you swiftly and sat down on the edge of your bed, a spoiled gaze dawning within his eyes while he moved his hand to your head, threading his fingers through your hair and messaging your scalp.

"try going to sleep, it'll help," he coaxed.

the more you cried, the more he sunk himself onto your bed. he kept his head high up against the headboard of your bed, and he let you snuggle close against his side for comfort. your head hastily leaned against his chest, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to focus on the rhythm of which he scratched your head dotingly.

"shhh, it's okay," he hushed, reaching his free arm over you to pat your back. "it's going to be okay."

jaemin was always so kind. everyone was always so kind. with their homemade soup, their refusal to abandon you at a tough spot, their snark remarks against your constant attacks, their nagging and coaxing—they were your friends.

you never knew why it took so much effort to get it into your head that they were going to be here whether you wanted them to or not. when you pushed them away, they would push back ten times harder, however many times they needed to. they knew you hated blatant affection so they never show it, nor do they make you show it, but it was here. flowing between their heads was love, discreet love, love that sat in patience, understanding, and stubbornness.

you pack a mean punch, but they could take it.

"jaemin... how are they doing?"

jaemin looked up from your sleeping face to find donghyuck at the door. his hands were wet from messing around in the kitchen, and he wiped them clean on his pants as he quietly approached the bed to take a peek at you. he raised his brow when he saw your face smushed against jaemin's chest and hidden under your arm, then he signed.

sleeping, huh. good. he heard you cry from outside a while ago, everyone did. nobody said anything about it and the living rooms were hushed quieter until your sobs gradually calmed down.

"are you going to stay here?" donghyuck asked after he pulled away. "you might get sick."

"yeah," jaemin nodded down at you, "i might."

donghyuck pursed his lips together, then he shrugged. "alright, i'll leave you then. do you want me to turn the lights off?"

"no, i don't want to fall asleep," jaemin said, stroking your head gently. then he nudged his chin toward donghyuck. "i do want my phone though."

donghyuck scoffed when he was by the door. he was only gonna turn the lights off because it would help you, so if that wasn't needed...

"interesting," he said. "i'm not your errand boy, though. you can stay bored."

jaemin held back a hiss when donghyuck ran out to the living room. he grimaced after the opened door, eyes wide in annoyance that donghyuck left the lights on and the door open, that irresponsible bastard! and he wouldn't even run to get a phone, which would only take a couple of steps!

turning his attention, he glanced down at you instead and breathed out a sigh. he wasn't going to be on his phone for long anyway, he just wanted to tell jisung and chenle you were doing okay. other than that, he has the plan to stare at you until you wake up—your scrunchy nose and closed puffy eyes were abnormally adorable, he has to admit.

"yeah, i'll get him," jaemin whispered playfully down at you. "we'll get him when you wake up."

[plus-size-reader]

Creep pt.2

Victor Criss x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2424 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Victor finally gets the date he was so desperate for

Part 1 

—————————————————————————————————

He’d figured it out.

It took him all week, and he’d nearly burst a blood vessel while trying to figure out what it was he wanted to do, but Victor knew now.  

You specified that you wanted him to take you to dinner. That was what you wanted if you were going to believe that he had feelings for you, and he definitely did.

So, all he had to do was figure out was where to take a girl like you, a girl he really liked, without his friends ever finding out that the dinner date happened.

It was a tall order, but after all this time, he had an idea.

All he had to do was make sure that the guys were busy, and he would be free to take you anywhere he wanted. Then, as far as wooing you went, he already had a whole dinner date set up in the form of a picnic in the quarry.

There weren’t a lot of first date level restaurants around here that were any good, and the ones that were around, he certainly couldn’t afford or wasn’t allowed back into.

Most of the business owners in Derry were wary of the Bower’s gang, and they had been banned from most of the fancier establishments.

Hell, even the milkshake bar on the other side of town had threatened to have them arrested if they ever went back. Though, he sort of understood where they were coming from, after Henry spray painted some really obscene things on the side of their building.

Victor just hoped the saying was right, and the thought behind his evening with you would be enough to show you just how much you meant to him because the picnic he’d planned was pretty extensive.

He had gone out and picked up everything you could have wanted, aside from the burgers he was going to pick up right before picking you up at your house, so they wouldn’t get cold.

He had a blanket that he could spread out over the edge of the rock quarry, looking down over the water, and he even got these tiny little cakes from the bakery down the street that he figured you’d like.

Girls liked those kinds of things, he’d asked Belch.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good date. The only thing Vic still had to do was figure out how to get the guys out of his hair for the night.

The worst thing he could possibly imagine happening would be Henry, Patrick, and to a lesser extent Belch, crashing your picnic and ruining his chances with you completely.

The blonde was already well aware that he was on thin ice with you, which was why this probationary date had to go well. He wanted to show you that he was capable of this.

That he was more than just some thug who made fun of pretty girls for their extra weight and relationship status, two things Henry went pretty hard at you for.

Henry and Patrick both liked to comment on how you would never have a boyfriend because of your size, and how you would probably die a virgin cause nobody would hit that.

In fact, there were very few things about you that the more alpha of his friends wouldn’t torment you for, something that, the more he thought about it, made Victor upset.

You had a point that day in the hall.

He had never really said anything nasty about you to your face, but he hadn’t stopped them from doing it either. He just stood back and let his friends treat you like the dirt beneath their boots.

It was hardly the foundation for a functional relationship, but he wanted to try. For now, all he could do was hope that he’d planned such an amazing date that it would make up for all those terrible things.

Thankfully, before Victor could further drive himself crazy, his three best, and only, friends came around the corner and made a B-line for him. This was it, if this went well, he would be home free for his date tonight.

...But if it didn’t, he had no idea how he was going to explain it to you.

There was no way you would give him a second chance if he cancelled your date to spend the night riding around in Belch’s Trans Am, listening to hair metal.

It had to happen tonight.

“Where have you been?” Belch asked, the only one of the three to even address him once they’d made it to his side.

Henry and Patrick continued to talk about whatever it was that had them so enthralled.

It wasn’t new, and didn’t even really bother Vic, but it was something he had never realized before. They didn’t even really seem to care if he was there or not, which he never would have noticed before talking to you.

Somehow you had managed to turn everything Victor knew upside down and he wasn't sure that he liked it. He wasn’t blind to the fact that his friends weren’t the best people before, but it had never hurt him to be around them.

They were the only friends he had, even if they weren’t the greatest guys of all time.

They were what he had.

“I had to run a few errands, no big deal” the blonde shrugged, hoping he’d done a good enough job at hiding his true intentions so that Belch wouldn’t ask any questions.

He wouldn’t have any answers for him if he did.

This whole thing was new to Vic, who had never really liked a girl this much in the first place, but he was doing what he thought would work. Lying, thankfully, wasn’t new to him.

At the very least, he could rely on his quick wit and the fact that two of the three of his friends couldn’t have been more oblivious to what he was doing and the third wasn’t the brightest to begin with.

It was starting to look like his little scheme would actually work.

Belch didn’t pry any further, something that Victor was glad for, and before it could get any more awkward or he gave himself a stroke, he asked what he’d been trying to ask for days, but didn’t have the nerve to.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

He tried to make it as nonchalant and casual as he could, as if he was just inquiring about the plans he knew they had indefinitely.

Even if the four of them were just going to walk around Henry’s property, or terrorize kids in the park, they always did something together. It wasn’t the sort of question that should have roused any suspicion.

Still, Vic couldn’t help but feel like his entire plot was unraveling at the seams and it was only a matter of time before the gang found out what he was doing and slaughtered him.

It wouldn't go over well. “Nothing, I gotta take care of some things for my pop, so you three girls are on your own” Henry shrugged, not offering any more explanation than that. Whatever it was, if Butch was involved, they knew not to press it.

Though, Victor already felt a little better knowing that Henry wouldn’t be skulking around, potentially finding the two of you in the woods.

Henry already had it out for you more than anyone else because of that time he asked you to see a movie with him and you said no. That rejection had really stuck a bur in his side, and it surely had something to do with his cruelty toward you now.

He wasn’t used to hearing no, after all.

Patrick and Belch had other plans too, it seemed, not really interested in hanging out with any of the others of them without Henry. If it wasn’t the whole gang, it was weird for them.

So, it seemed like Victor was in the clear.

All he had to do now was show you the time of your life and hope that you actually gave him a chance. A girl like you should have never even agreed to go out with him in the first place, so he wasn’t going to ruin it.

You deserved the best, and he was doing all he could to provide it.

~

Vic was sure he’d never been this nervous in his entire life.

Before now, he’d been so preoccupied worrying about the threat of the gang finding out what he was doing, or you changing your mind and rejecting him that he hadn’t given any thought at all to how this would feel.

Waiting for you to get here was going to kill him.

All Victor could think about was whether or not you were coming, or if something had happened to you on the way here. Maybe you decided that this wasn’t a good idea and were staying home, or worse, maybe you had another date.

Whatever it was, it was taking you way too long to get here and every second that passed by, he was sure you weren’t going to show.

You had stopped him in the hallway after the last bell rang, signalling the end of the day, and told him that you would meet him in the Quarry, because he didn’t drive, which didn’t seem like that big of a deal at first.

No good first date had even begun by walking awkwardly in silence through the woods, and it was smart to meet up for the more romantic parts of the evening. However, now that it was here, Vic had to wonder if it was all some clever ploy to leave him in the quarry alone.

It seemed cruel, but after everything he and the guys had done to you, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t deserve it.

He couldn’t have blamed you if you hated him.

Thankfully though, as the sun began creeping down and the air cooled that much more under the waterfront’s influence, you came walking up the path.

You had to admit that when he first suggested coming to the Quarry this late in the evening, you weren’t sure. It still seemed like this whole thing could be some joke, or something put on by Henry to humiliate you.

After all, Victor was the most unassuming of the four of them and if you were going to agree to go out with any of the Bower’s gang, it would have been him.

You just weren’t sure how to feel.

...but you were relieved to see Victor, right where he said he’d been, sitting on a beach towel or something.

It didn’t seem like a set up for a prank, but you weren’t fully convinced until you reached his side and saw the huge set up he’d spread out for you, right on the edge of the cliff.

You were far enough back to avoid falling off or dropping anything into the water below but close enough to see how pretty it was up here. You had never been here before, which had only solidified Victor’s plans to bring you.

The quarry was one of the only things in Derry that was worth seeing, and the fact that you’d lived here this long and still hadn’t come up here was blasphemous to him.

“Hey, I was getting worried you wouldn’t come” Vic called, the first to speak between the two of you. He did his best to play it off like a joke but it seemed like you knew how nervous he was.

Of course you did.

You were nervous to do this too.

Putting yourself out there wasn’t really something you did often or were good at, and you felt like you had taken a huge risk in agreeing to do this with him. However, as far as dates went, this really was worth the risk.

No one had ever gone through so much trouble just to impress you.

“You get stood up often?” you teased, sitting down on the spot across from him which you assumed was meant for you. It would have been sort of strange if he was waiting on someone else too.

It was a joke of course, but what you didn’t know was that he had. In general, Vic didn’t date too often just because he didn’t have a great history with this sort of thing.

He wasn’t exactly a ladies man after all.

“Sometimes” he shrugged, hoping that wouldn’t scare you off. It was much more honest than he was used to being, with anyone, but for some reason, you brought it out of him.

The two of you seemed to bring something different out of each other and as strange as it was for both of you, it was nice.

Victor, for one, felt like he could be who he was around you. It didn’t matter how vulnerable or goofy he wanted to be, there wasn’t going to be any awful consequences like there would be with the gang.

You didn’t seem to care if he wanted to be a geek.

“That’s okay. Me too” you shrugged, grabbing one of the cans of soda he offered you.

Your admission made him laugh, of course, because he assumed that you were joking, but after a few seconds of silence, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

You were completely serious, but that didn’t make any sense to him. You were beautiful and the fact that you had been stood up on a date didn’t compute for him.

Who in their right mind would have skipped out on a date with you? Victor certainly wouldn’t have, even considering how difficult you had made getting here for him.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad they were so stupid because now you’re here with me” he sighed, doing his best to keep from looking you in the face after saying something like that but you were happy he had.

That was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to you and as shocked as you were that he was the one saying it, you weren’t going to argue.

“I’m glad too. You’re surprisingly sweet, Vic” you allowed, taking a sip of your drink without much more between the two of you. This was hardly where you saw the evening going, but it was for the better.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

[comfortwriting]

I Prefer You - F.W

Fred Weasley x Fem reader 

Masterlist , Request Rules , Writing Prompts

About: The reader is best friends with the Weasley twins, whilst studying with them, Cedric Diggory shows up and confesses his love for her. Little does the reader know, Fred is also in love with her. She finds herself having to deal with Fred and Cedric competing for her love and in the end she has to choose one.

Warnings: love triangle, major fluff! 

“I wish he’d stop staring at you” Fred huffed, staring at the popular Hufflepuff student who couldn’t take his eyes off you.

George looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Cedric, turning back around and tapping the book you were reading. 

“He’s been at it since you bloody walked in.” George spoke up, trying his best to not notify the whole library. 

You smirked and stopped focusing on your DADA homework, looking up you caught Cedric’s glance, his pearly white teeth twinkling as he smiled, his grey eyes radiating love towards you. You smiled back and waved at him, looking back down at your work and chuckling.

Fred didn’t like the way you looked at Cedric, in fact he hated it, he hated that Cedric had to be staring at you and not his handful of fangirls that constantly flocked around him everywhere he went. 

“Oh do give over” Fred huffed again, looking at you “you can’t be seriously entertaining that air head.” 

You looked up from your work again and looked at Fred, his facial expression hardened and you could tell that he was in no mood to joke around, you opened your mouth to ask what his problem was but Cedric had already walked over to you, practicing his lines. 

“Y/N, may I have a word?” Cedric asked politely, his soft voice almost putting you in a trance. 

“Whatever you’ve got to say just spit it out, Ced.” Fred interrupted, fidgeting in his chair.

George smirked “Yeah, Ced. What's the big deal?”

Cedric pursed his lips trying not to laugh, he knew the twins were doing this on purpose but he wouldn't allow them to get in the way of what he wanted, even if they had more influence over you than he did.

Cedric looked at Fred and George and nodded “Alright then” he cleared his throat and looked back at you “Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend on a date.” 

The four of you went silent for a moment, Fred’s heart rate elevated and he felt like jumping out of his chair and battering Cedric for making a move on his girl - but then Fred realised that he had never told you how he felt, he always assumed the two of you would have a moment but it never happened and it certainly wouldn't now thanks to Cedric. 

George stared at his brother, preparing himself to hold him back if he tried to go for Cedric, and you - you were sat in your chair feeling flattered that someone had asked such a thing, that someone saw something in you for the first time. After all, you were hoping Fred would gain feelings for you like you did for him, but in your mind, Fred wasn’t interested in being anything more than best friends. 

You blushed and nodded “I would love to” you smiled back at Cedric, cracking Fred’s heart.

Cedric chuckled and licked his lips, nodding his head, looking incredibly proud with himself “I’ll see you Saturday” he replied, walking away. 

“And in class!” you reminded him, shaking your head and closing your book. 

Five days, you had five days until your big date with Cedric and funnily enough, Fred was more nervous than you were. 

“Are you actually going with him?” Fred asked, stabbing his slice of chicken breast with his fork. 

You could tell Fred was irritated, annoyed, but you couldn’t understand why. You thought after all the other people you had brought up he would finally approve of the student who went ahead and made a move on you. 

You looked at Fred and swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice, you placed your Goblet back down on the table. “I said yes didn’t I? Why are you so bothered about it, Fred?” 

George nudged Fred and whispered in his ear “just tell her, Freddie.”

You looked at Fred and started to slice your own chicken breast into strips “tell me what?” you shoved a strip into your mouth and started to chew.

Fred sighed and gave in, looking at George before focusing on you. “I fancy you alright, I’ve been after you since third year and as soon as that plonker shows up you’re all giggly.”

You inhaled a few dry strings of skin from the chicken breast, causing you to choke, you grabbed your goblet and downed some more juice, washing down the bits that got stuck in your throat. 

“why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you hissed at Fred “I fancy you too!” 

You didn’t mean to let that last part slip but it was already too late. 

Fred’s face turned into a massive grin, he put down his knife and fork “do you really?” 

You nodded your head and continued to eat your breakfast. 

“Brilliant, cancel your date with Cedric and we’ll go instead.” Fred looked over at the Hufflepuff table and laughed at Cedric gently buttering his toast.

You shook your head and grinned back at Fred, your plate almost empty. “No” you replied “if you want me you’ve got to prove it.” 

From Monday onwards Fred and Cedric went head to head with one another, constantly trying to one up each other and increasing how much love they were showering over you. Cedric didn’t give up all because Fred entered the picture and Fred didn’t give up as Saturday got closer.

Four Days

Walking over to you bed your jaw dropped, bouquet's of flowers littered your quilt covers and rested against your pillows, you were surrounded by sunflowers and  yellow roses, all of which were from Cedric - the yellow notes representing his house. 

As much as you loved the sentiment, flowers weren't really your thing - sure they were gorgeous and they brought you light when you looked at them but it didn’t make you double over in laughter like Fred did and everything he did for you. Instead of flowers and detailed love letters, Fred didn’t gift you anything except his biggest and most comfy jumper that his mother knitted, he also gave you his time and effort. 

You walked into the great hall wearing Fred’s jumper, his ego boosting and Cedric’s crumbling. 

“You look stunning in my clothes” Fred smirked, taking a bite out of his toast.

You blushed and sat next to him “I want more than just your jumper.”

Three Days

As much as Cedric wanted to, he didn’t have as much time as Fred - well he did - but he spent that time studying, going to extra classes and entertaining his fanbase. The only time you got with Cedric was in Herbology, he tried getting to know you better, asking you about your interests but he couldn’t make you laugh, he didn’t understand your humour. 

“I don’t understand” Cedric replied “is that supposed to be funny?”

You sighed and shook your head “it doesn’t matter, don’t sweat it Ced.”

Two Days

You and Fred bunked a few classes and went off to Hogsmeade, going crazy in Honey Dukes and even cuddling up together and sharing a Butterbeer to keep yourselves warm. The two of you stayed up all night, winding up Mr Filch and Mrs Norris, you even went into Snape’s personal stores and stole the ingredients to make a Poly Juice potion, transforming yourselves into Draco and Pansy to get them into more trouble. 

“On second thoughts, I don’t think you’re that pretty.” Fred grimaced at you.

You stared at him and walked over to him, pulling out one of his platinum blonde hairs “could say the same thing about you” you joked, both of you waiting for the potion to wear off.

One Day

“You looking forward to tomorrow then?” Fred smirked, seeing you groan in pain.

You shook your head “it’s going to be unbearable, he’s can’t make me laugh, he’s too soft, can’t take joke. I feel like he gets scared and takes things a bit too literally.”

Fred grinned and licked his lips “well I make you laugh all the time, wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve wet yourself because of me.” 

Rolling your eyes you looked over at the Hufflepuff table again, Cedric talking with his fanbase. 

“He’s got more than enough options, the majority of them girls are better suited for him than me.” 

You turned your focus back to your food and took a bite out of your sandwich.

“Aright then, if you’ve got it all figured out go and tell him.” Fred encouraged you, his ego shinning through, George just wanting the two of you to shut up and be together already. 

You knew Fred was testing you again and you didn’t want to back down, after Cedric’s offer, you and Fred were finally heading where you always wanted, you felt yourself itching for him, hungry for him, you wanted him - the more you wanted him, the less you wanted Cedric, the less the popular Hufflepuff lad stood out to you. 

“Okay then, watch me.” 

Standing up, you left your table and walked over to Cedric, his fangirls instantly looking appalled to be in your presence. You tapped him on the shoulder, Cedric turned around and smiled searching your face. 

“Y/N” his face fell when he noticed you were still wearing Fred’s jumper.

“Ced - Cedric, I’m sorry but I’ve changed my mind about tomorrow.”

The infatuated girls around him started to smile, suddenly enjoying you being around. Cedric looked upset but then again you couldn’t read into him like you could Fred, you realised that you barely knew Cedric at all - he was sending love letters and flowers to a girl he didn’t know at all.

“She’s taking her bloody time isn’t she?” George spoke up watching you.

“Shut up” Fred shushed him “wait for it”

You smiled slightly and looked at Cho for a moment who was sitting with her friends “you should ask Cho, I know she sees something in you.”

“She’s done it” Fred smirked “she’s actually done it.”

Saturday

“I still can’t believe you nearly ended up with that toss-pot.” Fred laughed, grabbing some black pepper imps. 

You grabbed some Chocolate Frogs “it’s a good job that I prefer you” holding his free hand the two of you shared a moment.

The overcrowded sweet shop suddenly felt empty, as if it were only you and Fred inside. Getting on your tiptoes and leaned in and Fred accepted, the two of you sharing the first kiss of many. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Fred grinned and licked his lips, bringing his hand up to your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I feel like such an idiot for not telling you sooner” Fred shook his head “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything either”

“I was sort of just waiting for it to happen, I suppose we’ve got Cedric to thank for that.”

Taglist: @reeophidian , @amourtentiaa

[writingsforanyone]

Forgotten Fling 5/7

pairing: Y/N x Brett Talbot

warnings: blood, guns

A/N: here’s part 5! the last two parts will be coming out soon, so be on the lookout! i have also decided that i’m going to go back to part 1 and rewrite a few parts of it. i realized that there’s probably a few things that i need to clarify, and that it would best be done in part one. i’ll make a note on here whenever it’s updated!

+++++++++++++

You knew tonight was a full moon. Not only a full moon, but a supermoon. You had told Brett earlier in the day that he could call you if he needed anything, or if he just needed you to be there. He didn’t like to call you on nights like these, in the rare case that he wolfed out and hurt you. You had found out you were his anchor a while ago, right around the time you found out about the supernatural in the first place. Brett was very good at keeping himself in control, but every werewolf had their slips, and it didn’t help that today was a supermoon. That meant that Brett would become stronger, angrier, and have a much harder time controlling himself. 

The sun was setting, and you were in your room watching TV. You looked out your window at the moon that was already very visible in the salmon skyline. You were torn with yourself on whether or not you should go to Brett’s. He hadn’t called or texted you, but you knew he probably wouldn’t unless it was an emergency. You decided to send a simple text and ask how he was doing. When you still hadn’t gotten a text back 30 minutes later, you were growing very worried. As you were getting up to start putting your shoes on, you got a text from Lori.

Are you busy? 

Not at all, what’s up?

It’s Brett. The supermoon is effecting him really bad and he won’t calm down. He told me not to text you but I didn’t know what else to do

Hey, don’t worry. I’m on my way

Thank you. We’re in the shed out back

You finally put your shoes on and grabbed your stuff, running out of your house and into your car. You sped to Brett’s house, where he lived with Lori, Satomi, and a few other members of Satomi’s pack. When you got there, you headed around the house to the shed that was in the backyard. Satomi had the shed specifically for this reason, in case a member of her pack had trouble on a full moon. You walked in, not bothering to knock, and were shocked at what you saw. Lori was crouched in a corner, looking scared to death, Satomi had a cut across her cheek that was in the process of healing, and in the middle of the room was Brett, halfway chained to a pole. He had broken one of his arms out of the chains, and was pulling at the other restraint on his other arm. His claws, fangs, and eyes were all out and every prominent, but he wasn’t completely wolfed out, which you took as a good sign. You hesitantly made your way to the middle of the room, calling Brett’s name. At the sound of your voice, he looked up, and growled,

“Y/N? You shouldn’t be here.”

“When do I ever listen to what you tell me what to do?” you responded lightly, knowing that talking to him normally would help him focus on you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled again. 

“And I don’t want you to hurt anyone else,” you said. At that, he pulled at the restraints again, growling. You slowly walked over to Satomi and asked her quietly,

“What’s wrong with him? He’s never been this bad.”

“I can’t say. I haven’t seen him struggle this much in a long time,” she responded.

“What can I do?” you asked.

“Get him to focus on you. It will make him human,” she told you. You nodded and slowly made your way over to Brett, standing just far enough to where he couldn’t reach you.

“Brett?” you said, “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” he said, louder than you were expecting.

“Why didn’t you want me to come out here tonight?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, not as loudly as he had been a few seconds ago.

“That’s not the reason. I know you won’t hurt me. What’s the real reason?” you said. He seemed to hesitate as he thought about his answer, which was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to think more on his answer instead of thinking about hurting you. 

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he finally said, no longer growling and sounding like his normal self. You heart broke slightly at his answer, but you tried not to let it show. You walked closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks. You brushed some of the hair that had fallen onto his eyes away as you said,

“Sweetheart, I will never be scared of you. I know that you’re doing your best to stay in control, and if you were to hurt me, it wouldn’t be on purpose. You hear me? I will never be scared of you Brett.” At your words, you saw Brett’s fangs slowly retreat, and looked down to see his claws had also gone back to normal. His eyes were still yellow, but you knew he was calming down and regaining control. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him slowly, and he kissed back immediately. When you pulled away, you saw that his yellow eyes were gone, and his beautiful green eyes sat in their place.

“Feel better?” you asked. Brett nodded, before you heard Satomi clear her throat behind you. You had almost forgotten that the Alpha and Lori were in the room because of how quiet they had been. 

“The connection between the two of you is remarkable,” Satomi said. You felt your cheeks flush, as did Brett’s, and then Satomi motioned for you to untie the remaining restraint that held Brett’s arm. When he was free, he walked over to Satomi and placed his hand on her cheek, where he had previously scratched her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said to her. She placed her hand over his and responded,

“I healed, and you’re in control now. That’s what matters.” Brett nodded before turning around, looking for Lori. She had stood up and had made her way to stand next to you. Brett moved to give his little sister a hug, and she hugged him tight. Finally, he turned to you and wrapped his arms around your waist in a hug. You reached up and snaked your arms around his neck, holding him tight.

“Thank you,” he whispered to you. You nodded in the crook of his neck before pulling away, the four of your walking out of the shed and towards the house. You stayed the night with Brett that night, holding him until he fell asleep, not wanting to be anywhere else.

You don’t know why you had been thinking about your most recent dream all day, but the reoccurring thought hadn’t left your mind since you woke up. The school day was now over, and you were trying to get some studying done in the library before the charity game tonight, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything except last night’s dream. After your last encounter at Sinema, you didn’t know where you and Brett stood. To make matters even more complicated, you knew Brett was going to be at the school tonight, considering that Beacon Hills was playing Devenford Prep. The pack was trying to get the game canceled, because of The Beast that had been lurking around recently. No one wanted to take the risk of playing the game and putting the entire town in danger. You knew even if the game was canceled, you would probably still end up seeing Brett tonight, but you had bigger problems to worry about than that right now.

“Y/N,” you heard from behind you. You turned to see Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Liam walking into the library, heading straight for your table. 

“Hey guys. What’s the plan for tonight?” you said as they all sat down around you. 

“Well, Mason said it’s not just a transmitted frequency. It’s high powered. Like it has to be a really strong signal,” Liam said.

“And that’s causing it to shift?” Lydia asked.

“No. I don’t think it’s just that. Last night, Argent said it’s getting smarter. What if the Dread Doctors are trying to make the Beast grow faster?” Scott said.

“With frequencies?” Stiles asked, to which Scott replied with,

“No, by shifting. The frequency is just the trigger. The important part is when it shifts into the werewolf.”

“Like Peter,” Lydia said.

“Right. Yeah, when Peter was an Alpha, he got stronger every full moon. Eventually, the burns healed and he was back to normal,” Scott confirmed. That’s when you butted in and said,

“So the Dread Doctors don’t want to wait for the full moon.”

“They want the Beast to be as strong as possible, as fast as possible.”

“Because of Parrish,” Liam said.

“So if this is happening tonight, what are we gonna do?” Lydia asked.

“Uh, we’ve got one clue to go on,” Stiles started as he pulled something out of his backpack,

“This came from the hospital. Whoever’s lurking inside the Beast is wearing a size 10 of indeterminate make.” Everyone looked down at the picture of the bloody shoe print before you said,

“Indeterminate?”

“Means it’s a partial print. Basically it was all we were able to get considering all the fire, blood, and carnage.” Stiles responded.

“How many size 10s are there?” Scott asked.

“Only one with Parrish’s blood on the sole,” Stiles said.

“So are we going to try to get the game cancelled?” Liam asked. 

“No, no. we’re going to play, but we’re just going to hope really hard that it doesn’t turn into a blood-soaked massacre,” Stiles answered, albeit sarcastically.

"Okay but, aren’t we kind of missing out a chance to catch this thing? We don’t have the ‘who,’ but we have the ‘where’ and the ‘when,’” Liam asked. Everyone paused and looked around at each other. Liam made a good point, but was it worth the risk? Scott seemed to be thinking the same thing, and said,

“There’s too many people.”

“And we still don’t actually know if it’s going to happen. It just might end up being a regular lacrosse game. It’s possible, right?” you asked, Lydia nodding in agreement.

“Well, uh, it’s possible,” Stiles said.

“So we’re still getting the game canceled?” Liam asked

“We’re getting the game cancelled,” Scott said confirming his question.

The five of you got up and headed out of the library in your own separate directions. You and Liam headed for your car so you could run to your house for a little bit. Liam needed to get his lacrosse gear and you wanted to change, and on the way home, Liam asked a weird question,

“So, are you going to talk to Brett tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you going to talk to him? You two seemed like you were getting along better a few weeks ago.”

“I don’t know Liam. I have no idea where we stand right now, I won’t even know what to say,” you said.

“Why don’t you start with ‘Hi’?” Liam asked.

“Since when are you the one giving me advice?” you said laughing. Liam laughed with you before saying,

“I’m serious. Talk to him.”

“Maybe.”

______________

A few hours later, you pulled back into the Beacon Hills High parking lot and parked in one of the only available spots left. Almost the entire town was here, and that made you nervous for what might happen. You and Liam got out and headed towards the field, where you saw Scott and Stiles getting out of the Jeep. You jogged over to met them, and saw that they were turned around looking at something in the distance. When you looked over, you saw that they were looking at the Devenford Prep charter bus, and more specifically, the player getting off of it. Brett. All of a sudden, the stadium lights all came on one by one, lighting up the entire field as if the sun was out and shining. You also saw the news vans scattered around the field. You made your way towards the school with the boys, to the classroom where you were meeting the others. When you arrived, you saw Kira, Malia, Corey, and Mason all sitting around a lab table in the chemistry classroom. Scott immediately jumped into the plan for the night and said,

“Mason, you know your part.”

“Corey and I break into the Devenford Bus and search their shoes,” he said nodding.

“I take out the TV vans,” Malia chimed in. 

“Right before the whistle, Coach forfeits the game,” Stiles said.

“The rest of us are looking for a size 10 with a bloody sole,” you said. 

“Just out of curiosity, what if it doesn’t work? What if we have to go up against this thing? I mean I hate to bring up back memories, but Scott’s still healing from what Theo did to him” Malia asked. 

“No he’s not,” Kira said.

“She’s right,” Scott confirmed. He pulled up his jersey to reveal a completely healed torso, with no signs that he had ever even been touched.

“It happened the night we got Lydia out of Eichen House. I healed. When we were all together again; when we were a pack.”

“The Beast doesn’t have a pack,” Liam said. 

“Not like us,” Scott said, looking around at everyone at the table, 

“We can do this guys. No one dies tonight.” You all nodded in agreement before heading out of the room to the field. Malia made her way towards the news vans, Mason and Corey headed towards the Devenford bus, and the rest of you walked towards the field. As you were able to head up the bleachers to find a seat, Scott stopped you.

“I talked to Brett earlier. He said Lori can help you search the bleachers for shoes.”

“Oh okay. You were with him?” you asked.

“Yeah only for a second when they got here. Lori should be somewhere around here,” Scott said.

“I’ll find her,” you said before making your way up the bleachers. You were able to get a better view of the field, and you saw the young werewolf walking around the field towards your side of the bleachers. You made your way down and over to her, where she greeted you with a hug. The two of you made small talk and caught up as you made your way back to the bleachers. Just as you were about to sit down, Stiles came running up to you and said,

“Coach isn’t forfeiting the game.”

“What?” you and Lori said at the same time. Stiles had run off by then, leaving you and Lori confused. You heard the whistle blow and turned your attention to the field where both teams were running out, and saw Brett and Scott squat in the middle of the field. Just like that, the game started, and you and Lori were able to get away without alerting anyone’s attention. You started walking under the bleachers searching all of the shoes for even the smallest speck of blood, and after 20 minutes of searching, nothing. Knowing that there was nothing else the two of you could do for the time being, you both sat back down for the third time that night and watched the game. 

You watched Kira score a goal, taking down half of the Devenford team in her path. She was playing very rough, and you were growing worried about what was going on. A few plays later, you watched Brett tackle her, and she fell to the ground. Immediately she was back on her feet, and swung her lacrosse stick, striking Brett on the head. You gasped as you shot down the bleachers. You watched his helmet fly off his head as he fell to the ground. You knew you couldn’t go onto the field, but you watched from the sidelines as Kira was kicked out of the game, and Liam helped Brett to his feet. Kira stormed past you and Lori, and Scott stopped next the two of you. He nodded at Lori and she ran off after Kira, but as you moved to go after her, Scott stopped you. 

“Go see Brett,” he said. He knew you wanted to check on him, but you also wanted to make sure Lori didn’t get hurt. You were debating and Scott could tell, which is why he said,

“She can take care of herself. Go see him.”

You nodded before taking off towards the opposite side of the field, where the guest benches and bleachers were. You saw Brett sitting alone on one of the benches, still looking a bit disoriented. As you were walking, Brett turned towards you. You could see a smile spread across his face, which caused a smile to form on yours as well. You sat down next to him and said,

“Why do you always seem to get hurt when I’m around?”

“Maybe so I have an excuse to talk to you,” Brett responded. You laughed lightly before asking,

“How are you feeling?”

“A little hazy, but I’ll be fine,” he answered. You leaned over a little to get a better look at his forehead where he had gotten hit.

“If you weren’t a werewolf, that would leave a nasty bruise,” you said.

“I can already feel it starting to heal, I just hope I can get back in the game.”

“You’re Brett Talbot. I guarantee your back in the game in like 5 minutes,” you said to him. You hadn’t realized how close you were to his face, but Brett seemed to have noticed right away. You could have sworn you saw him glance down at your lips, but you might have been imagining things. You involuntarily glanced at his as you were having an internal conflict with yourself. Your head was screaming at you to stop, while your heart was screaming at you to go for it and kiss him. Right when you were about to go with your heart, the Devenford coach called Brett’s name. You snapped back into reality and said,

“I told you,” you whispered as you started to pull away. The two of you stood up as you said, 

“Try not to kill us out there.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Brett said with a chuckle.

“Talbot!” his coach yelled at him; he was clearly growing impatient. Brett grabbed his lacrosse stick and helmet, and started jogging over to the Coach. As you were turning around to head back to the other side of the field, Brett called your name. You turned around and he asked,

“Come see me after the game?”

You smiled and nodded, watching him jog back onto the field, playing as if nothing had ever happened. 

Throughout the rest of the game, you, and the rest of your pack, were growing more and more nervous. The Beast hadn’t shown up and Devenford was close to ending the game, and none of you had any idea what to do. You hadn’t seen Kira or Lori since they both ran off, nor had you seen Corey or Mason, or Malia. Scott had run off, Brett and Liam were getting into it, and Beacon Hills had called a timeout. Eventually, Liam had evened up the score, and the game went into overtime. You were cheering so loud for your little brother that you hadn’t even realized that the news vans had just about exploded from the feed back.  You closed your eyes and winced from the loud noise, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Liam charging at the school busses, and The Beast was flying over the busses right at him.

“NO!” you screamed out. You ran down the bleachers towards your brother, someone hot on your heels. You figured it was probably Hayden, and you realized it was when you both came to a sudden halt. The Beast threw Liam to the ground, and ran towards the bleachers. When you turned back to Liam, there he was, bleeding profusely from what seemed like every inch of his body.

“LIAM!” you and Hayden yelled, running over to him. He was struggling to breathe, and he wasn’t healing, which in turn just made you freak out even more. You saw someone running towards you in your peripheral vision, and when you saw that it was Stiles, you moved to help Liam up. 

“Liam, come on we have to get inside. Can you walk?” you asked. Liam yelped in pain before saying in a strained voice, 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Stiles went around the other side of Liam to help him stand, and Hayden led you all into the school. Everyone from the game was in the process of running into the school, so when you all found the first available classroom, you took it. After knocking off the contents of the desk, you and Stiles laid him down on top of it. Liam kept repeating ‘I’m okay’ and ‘I’m fine’ over and over again, but by the tone of his voice and the blood pooling out of his chest, it was very clear that he was not fine. You moved to peel up his jersey to look at the damage, and at the sight, Stiles gagged.

“Is it that bad?” Liam said, sounding nervous.

“No!” you and Hayden said at the same time, while Stiles went in the opposite direction and said,

“Very.”

“Okay. Okay, what do you guys usually do when this happens?” Hayden asked, not have nearly as much experience with this as the rest of you. 

“Oh, I usually pass out. And I still might do that,” Stiles answered as he started swaying.

“Stiles! Not the time!” you said, grabbing his arms and forcing him up straight.

“Okay, Okay. Scott did this with pain. He could trigger it. Pain makes you human,” Stiles said.

“He’s already in pain,” Hayden said, sounding annoyed.

“Right, okay, but maybe adding a little more could help take away the pain,” Stiles said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Just then, Liam yelled out in agony, not being able to hold it in.

“Take away the pain. Take away the pain,” you mumbled under your breath, before saying out loud,

“Hayden, you’re the only one who can take his pain away,”

“How do I do that?” Hayden said frantically. You didn’t know how to answer that. Both you and Stiles were human, and had no idea what to do in terms of taking someone’s pain.

“Y/N! Did Brett ever take away your pain? How did he do it?” Hayden said, needing an answer fast. You thought about it before saying,

“He would kiss me. He would kiss me and it took the pain away.” As soon as the words left your lips, Hayden kissed Liam, and you saw the vines in her cheeks turn black as the pain moved from Liam’s body into hers. When Liam laid back down, he seemed much more at ease than he was before, and Stiles said,

“Next time I’ll kiss him.”

“Brett,” you whispered to yourself, before it clicked in your head that you hadn’t seen Brett since you left him at the bench.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Where’s Brett?” you said, panicking once more. 

“I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably in one of the classrooms,” Stiles said, trying to calm you down.

“You don’t know that Stiles,” you said loudly without meaning too. Without thinking, you headed for the door and threw it open, ignoring everyone’s calls for you to stay in the room. You knew it was dangerous to leave the room, but you had to find him. Who knows where he was, or who he was with, but you knew you had to find him. You ran from classroom to classroom, looking inside each of the windows to see if you saw him. You had no idea how many doors you had looked in or hallways you had ran through when you heard a roar coming from the direction of the library. You ran in the opposite direction, down a hallway that you hadn’t checked yet. Finally, you looked into a room and saw a sea of green lacrosse jerseys, and the tall head of blonde hair that belonged to the boy you were looking for. You pulled the door open, which caused everyone in the room to turn towards you looking frightened. When Brett saw that it was you, he ran towards you, and you ran to meet him. You leapt into his arms and he caught you with ease, holding onto you like you were going to disappear into thin air.

“Oh my god, you’re okay,” you whispered into his ear.

“I’m okay. I’m right here,” he whispered back. He set you on your feet before asking,

“How did you know I was in here?”

“I didn’t. I was across the school helping Liam when I realized I didn’t know where you were and I just ran,” you said, seemingly out of breath after running across the entire high school. After saying that, you realized you should probably text Stiles and let him know you were safe. You pulled out your phone and texted him, and almost immediately got a text back, which read

Library

“We need to get to the library. That’s where the Beast is, and that’s where Scott’s going to be,” you spoke lowly, not wanting the rest of his team to hear you.

“It’s not safe. Stay in here. I’ll come back for you,” Brett said

“You’re an even bigger idiot than I thought if you think I’m staying in here,” you said, and with that, you grabbed Brett’s hand and pulled him out of the door towards the library. You saw Liam, Malia, and to your surprise, Braeden running in the same direction. You met with them in the middle, and Braeden wordlessly reached for her ankle and unstrapped her drop gun. She thrust it in your open hand. Brett squeezed you hand before letting go and running towards the doors, Liam right behind him. The second they saw the Beast, they jumped towards it, striking it in the head, before being thrown to the floor. You, Braeden, and Malia followed suit, you and Braeden aiming anywhere on the Beast’s body, and shooting. After having enough of getting shot, the Beast ran towards the floor-to-ceiling window and jumped through it, leaving everyone in the library out of breath and terrified. Malia and Liam moved to help Scott up, while Braeden stood there and said,

“You didn’t seriously think you were going to have a chance against that thing did you?”

“No,” Scott breathed out, “But I got its scent.” he finished as he ran out of the library with Liam hot on his tail. In the moments that followed, you had given Braeden back her gun, you and Brett had left the library, and the two of you were now walking towards the empty lacrosse field. Brett had left all of his belongings when he ran, and as the two of you were walking he said,

“You didn’t have to walk with me if you didn’t want to you know?”

“Aren’t you the one who asked me to come see you after the game?” you retorted back, making him chuckle. 

“Can I ask you something?” Brett said, to which you nodded, prompting him to continue.

“Why did you come looking for me?”

“I told you, I didn’t know where you were,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t push you further. Wishful thinking.

“I know that, but why did you leave?” he said. You hesitated. Should you tell him you were scared that he was hurt? That you wanted him to be safe? That you were freaking out over the thought of not knowing if he was okay?

“I just- I- I needed to know you were safe okay?” you finally threw out, slightly louder than you had anticipated. You stopped walking and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before starting again.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” You started fast walking towards the bench, when Brett grabbed your hand and spun you around, and said,

“Hey, hey, hey. Slow down. Why are you freaking out? You heartbeat is going like a mile a minute right now.”

You sighed, trying to gather all of your thoughts so you didn’t  say something you regretted. 

“I don’t know,” you finally said, looking up to meet Brett’s eyes for the first time since this conversation started. Brett moved his hand from yours and brought both of his hands to rest on your cheeks, before saying,

“You want to know something? Right before you came through the door of that classroom, I was searching for my phone so I could call someone, anyone, who might have known where you were. The guys kept telling me to calm down, and that you were probably okay, and then you walked through the door.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” you asked, confused on why he wanted to call your friends, rather than just calling you.

“Someone still has my number blocked,” he said lightly, easing the mood. You let out a breathy laugh, before saying,

“Oh yeah. I wasn’t sure if I should unblock it or not”

“You should. Now come on,” Brett said, moving to grab your hand again and led you to where his bags were. You sat down on the bench while he started gathering his stuff, putting all of it in his bag. He started stripping off his lacrosse gear, leaving him in a tight workout shirt and his uniform shorts. Once he had everything tucked away in his bag, he sat down next to you. The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, until,

“Can I ask you something else?” 

“Sure,” you said, curious as to what else he wanted to know.

“Do you still hate me?” The question took you by surprise, and you contemplated with yourself before saying,

“No. I don’t think I ever hated you.”

“It sure seemed like you did that day you walked away,” he said tentatively, not wanting to start an argument.

“You had just told me I had to chose between you and my little brother. I was mad. I was mad for a long time. But I don’t think I ever actually I hated you. I don’t think I ever could,” you said. You weren’t sure why you were telling him this, but it had to come out at some point, right?

“You know, I tried to stop you from walking away. I wanted to take back everything I said, but it was too late. I tried to call you that night, but I think you had already blocked my number,” he said. You could feel him looking at you, but with the words that were falling from both of your lips, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. You were staring off into the night sky when you said,

“Yeah, I blocked it the second I got home that day. It was easy to do in that moment since I knew I wasn’t going back to Prep, so I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences.”

“You know why I started an argument with Liam when I got off of the bus, that day last year? Because I knew that if you were anywhere around us, you would’ve come to stop it. I wanted to see you. I didn’t want to pick a fight with Liam, I just wanted to see how you would react to seeing me,” Brett let out. For some reason, this made you smile, and you said,

“It just took a lot for you to admit that didn’t it?” Brett let out a breathy laugh and said,

“Even over a year later, you still know me better than anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, there’s some things I could just never forget,” you said, standing up. You knew the Devenford Prep bus would be leaving soon, and it seemed like Brett did too. Brett stood up after you and grabbed his lacrosse bag, before he reached his hand out for yours. You looked at his outstretched hand and back up at him, before biting back a smile and lacing your fingers through his. It wasn’t a new feeling by any means, but a feeling that you hadn’t experienced in quite a while. The two of you started walking towards the parking lot in a comfortable silence, and after a few minutes, Brett spoke up again.

“You know, I never got the chance to apologize. And I mean really apologize for what I did back at Prep. I never meant to make you chose between me and Liam. I was angry and I took it out on you, and I’m so sorry.” 

That was what you had been waiting for. An apology. You knew that you and Brett were in the process of mending your friendship (or whatever it was), but the one thing you wanted was an apology from him before you forgave him. 

“Thank you. That means more than you know. I always wanted to bring it up and ask if you really meant it, but I think I was always too scared to say anything.”

“I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t,” Brett said. By that point, the two of you had reached your car, and you were expecting him to let go of your hand when you stopped walking, but he made no move to pull away. You turned towards him and nodded, before saying softly,

“Apology accepted.”

This brought a smile to Brett’s face, and unbeknownst to you, lifted a huge weight off of his shoulders.

“Promise me that you’ll be safe? I know that with everything going on its hard, but I need you to be okay,” Brett said, slightly pleading with you. There was the ‘promise me’ phrase again, the one that used to be so prominent between the two of you. You nodded and looked up at him, saying,

“I promise. Promise me you’ll stay safe too, and keep Lori safe.” Brett nodded, a small smile playing on his face. All of a sudden, you heard someone yelling from behind you, the sound coming from the direction of the Devenford Prep bus.

“Talbot! Stop playing grabass and let’s go!” You both turned around to see one of Brett’s teammates leaning out of the bus doors. You chuckled and shook your head, before turning back to Brett and asking, 

“They haven’t changed a bit have they?”

“Not at all,” Brett answered. He then let go of your hands and hesitantly moved to wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you. You reached up and brought your arms around his neck, pulling him in the rest of the way. You had missed Brett’s hugs; the way you felt safe in his hold, the way he would lean his head into the crook of your neck, the way he would slightly sway the two of you back and forth, the way he would barely lift you off your feet because of the height difference. Neither of you wanted to let go right away, so neither of you did. You stood there in each other’s embrace for as long as you could. It was your way of conveying all of your emotions to each other, without having to say a word. When you finally started to pull apart, Brett pressed a kiss to your forehead before pulling away completely. You felt goosebumps run down your back at the lack of body warmth. You both said your goodbyes, before you watched Brett walk over towards the bus. You weren’t quite ready to get in your car, and it seemed Brett wasn’t quite ready to get on the bus, because you saw him turn towards you one last time, as if to make sure that he hadn’t been dreaming for the last hour. He definitely wasn’t dreaming, because you were right there, smiling back at him as he climbed the steps to the bus. 

When the bus doors finally closed, you got in your car and started the engine. You still weren’t quite ready to pull off, so instead you pulled your phone out. You went to your contacts, and scrolled until you found Brett’s name. You clicked the contact name and proceeded to unblock the number, before sending a short text that read,

hi :) 

You felt content as you put your phone away and pulled out of the Beacon Hills High parking lot.  The long overdue conversation you had just had with Brett put you at ease, and had settled a lot of your worries. However, it also made some new thoughts float around in your mind. It made you wonder if you had made a mistake walking away that day, instead of talking it out. More importantly, it also made you wonder if maybe the feelings you had developed for Brett months ago weren’t as one-sided as you thought they were. Maybe he was just good at hiding them. 

[fangirlovestuff]

Holding On - Andy Barber x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! i’m so happy i’m kicking the new year off with the loml andy barber aka if ‘husband material’ was a human. this is my entry for the Merry Hoemas Challenge, hosted by the absolutely amazing @amythedvdhoarder​ @chrissquares​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @pumpkin-and-pine​ and @starlightcrystalline. i know this is the last day, i’m sorry it’s so late but i hope you enjoy!<3

Summary: this year, christmas isn’t what it used to be. the story of you and andy through christmas, and the soft epilouge (angst with a happy ending because i’m mushy)

Prompts: sad memories of christmas past & new year countdown kiss

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none that i’ve seen:)

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

For the first time in five years, you were spending Christmas alone.

Well, you weren't really alone. You were with your coworkers at a lame office holiday party. And you've done that before, but not without –

Point is, for the first time in five years, you were spending Christmas lonely.

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

five years ago

"So, what do you wanna do for Christmas?" you asked as Andy, your boyfriend of three months, sat down on the couch next to you. You were in the middle of a movie night, and he went to bring more popcorn, putting it halfway between your lap and his before wrapping his arm around you.

"Oh, I don't know. I haven't really… done Christmas in a while," he shrugged.

You gasped. "You can't just shrug something like that off! We have to do something big for Christmas now!" you exclaimed before reaching for your phone and typing away hastily.

"What are you doing?" he chuckled.

You just typed a number into your phone and dialed, and put your finger to your mouth shushing Andy. The person on the other side of the line picked up and you spoke.

"Hey, I was wondering what's the biggest Christmas tree you guys have available at the moment."

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

four years ago

"Open it!" you said with a grin, waiting to see Andy's reaction to the gift you got him.

"Alright, alright, I'm opening it," he chuckled before tearing the wrapping paper, revealing a super fancy pen and a mug with the 'words cannot espresso how much you mean to me' printed on the side of it. Clutching the mug in his large hand, Andy let out a hearty laugh.

"Do you like it?" you grinned. You tried to be lighthearted, but honestly, Andy Barber was a difficult man to shop for. Your first Christmas together you could get away with the standard shirt or cologne, but now you wanted it to be a little more personal, and you hoped you'd succeeded.

"I love it," he smiled. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he brought you close and kissed your temple, prompting your grin to become larger, more sincere.

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

three years ago

"Are you sure you won't be back home in time?" you pouted.

"Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure, sweetheart," Andy sighed over the phone. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you said, "I know work is important. You'll just unwrap your presents a little later."

"The greatest present I could get is you," you heard the smile in his voice.

"Exactly," you smirked.

It took him a couple of seconds to realize what you were saying before chuckling. You had the mental image of him shaking his head slightly. You wished so bad he was here so you could actually see it.

"I'll see you soon honey, I gotta go," he said.

"See you soon, love you," you said, and he returned it before hanging up the phone.

That night you were tossing and turning in your bed, unable to sleep. It was Christmas eve, and Andy wasn't here, and the thought sent a pang of sadness through your chest.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of the house door opening. Shaking off your thoughts, you tensed up, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. You heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and you jumped up, ready to bolt to the bathroom and lock yourself in there before hearing a familiar deep voice call out your name.

"Andy?" you said, disbelieving, before truly registering the man in front of you. "Andy!" you laughed in relief as you came and hugged him tightly. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I wanted to surprise you in the morning," he admitted a tad bashfully.

"Well, that was a surprise if I've ever seen one," you chuckled, "you nearly gave me a heart attack back there."

"I'm sorry," he grimaced.

"It's alright," you giggled, "you're home."

"Merry Christmas honey," he whispered as he buried his head into your neck.

"Merry Christmas Andy."'

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

two years ago

"Honey, I'm home" Andy called out to you in an amused tone as he came in through the door.

"I'm in the kitchen," you called out, a grin on your face at his cheesy words.

You heard the shuffling of him taking off his shoes and hanging his coat before the padding of his footsteps, heading in your direction.

"Merry Christmas," he said as he entered the kitchen, immediately coming to wrap his arms around you and peek around your shoulder at the cookies you were making.

"It's not even Christmas eve yet," you laughed as you tilted your head back to kiss his cheek.

"A few hours don't really matter," he smiled and you scrunched up your nose just to make that smile turn into a hearty laugh.

You loved it when he laughed. You did your best to make him laugh as often as possible.

"Maybe you're right," you admitted with a smile. "Merry Christmas."

He opened his mouth expectantly, but you just tapped his chin with a smile, gesturing for him to close it. "These aren't ready yet." After a short pause you continued, "But of course, a few hours don't matter, right? If you want you can have some uncooked eggs right now, but I don't know if that's how I would wanna spend my Christmas," you smirked up at him.

"Touché," he chuckled before removing his arms from around your waist. "I'm gonna go get the decorations out of the attic so we can decorate, so just yell if you need anything, alright?"

"Yes sir," you mock saluted him and you both laughed softly.

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

one year ago

"We're stuck," you let Andy know as you plopped onto the bed with a sigh.

"They don't have any more flights?" Andy asked, his brows furrowed.

"They said all of the are canceled because of the storm," you buried your face into the pillow, which muffled your next words, "And they said to further contact them for financial compensation."

"I'm sorry sweetheart," you felt the bed dip next to you as Andy sat down and started rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry," you flipped so you were laying on your back, facing him, "I know we planned on having Christmas at home this year, and now we're gonna spend it in this hotel far away."

"I don't mind," he shook his head before leaning down to envelop you in a hug and pulled you back up with him. "You're my home. I don't need anything else."

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

present

"Champagne?" your coworker offered you a glass full of the bright beverage.

"No, thank you," you shook your head. "You know what? I think I forgot something at my desk upstairs, I'm just gonna run up there real quick," you excused yourself.

At this point, you were contemplating just leaving altogether, but you knew that wouldn't be the polite thing to do. Besides, sitting at home thinking about how you haven't seen Andy in months would be way more depressing. It's boring here, but at least you were somewhat distracted from the memories plaguing your mind.

Instead, you actually went up to your office. You started rummaging through some papers, pretending to be working. Then, you thought about clearing out your drawers, if you were already here. No one would notice if you were gone for a little while longer.

You started taking out papers and sorting them, throwing some away. The pile was getting slimmer and slimmer, until you saw something that made your breath hitch.

It was a photo of you and Andy, on the beach from a year ago. You both had such happy smiles on your faces in the picture, and you couldn't help letting a stray tear escape your eye.

When you heard footsteps approaching, you quickly wiped the tear from your cheek, putting the photograph away before turning around in your chair, "Sorry, I'll be righ-"

"Hi."

In front of you was Andy. To a stranger, he would look in tip-top shape, his suit and tie neatly arranged. But you were able to see the frantic look in his eyes, the twitch of his jaw, the way he rubbed his hand on his beard.

"Andy? What's going on?" you got up and got closer to him, standing in front of him and tilting your head up slightly to meet his gaze.

"I… look, I know we left things badly, and I know this might be a bad time. But I just… I couldn't spend Christmas without you," his voice cracked slightly. "I don't even know if you're dating anyone else already, but I just… I miss you, so much. If I didn't say it I'd go crazy," he chuckled.

"I miss you too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not… seeing anyone else either."

"Then will you… give me another chance? I'm sorry for what I did, for what I said. I haven't stopped playing it over and over in my mind, and I just… if you'll have me, I'd like to fix things. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't try."

"Okay," you nodded, "A chance. I can do that."

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

one year later

"Three… two… one… happy new year!" everyone yelled in unison and lifted their glasses in a toast. Andy smiled before pulling you in for a searing kiss, swaying slightly as your lips moved against each other.

"Happy new year Andy," you said against his lips when you parted.

"Happy new year sweetheart," he smiled.

You toasted your glasses against each other, and you smiled at the twinkle of the ring on your finger. It wasn't extremely new, it had been a few weeks already, but whenever you had it on it made you giddy.

It showed, among other things, that Andy wasn't going to give you up ever again. He told you that himself when he proposed.

And god knows you'd never give up the love of your life.

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

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[joshslater]

Quarantine & VR

5500-word story, so I used the Keep Reading feature for once. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“Are you sure you’re OK with this?”

We were slowly driving through an eerily empty city center from my student flat next to campus on one side of town to Ethan’s flat on the other, with all my belongings stuffed in the back of the U-Haul. Not that I had so much stuff we needed one. I just moved into the state right before the semester started, but it was the cheapest rental we could get. No one is going anywhere with this lockdown in effect. We barely had time to read the syllabus before everything screeched to a halt. You thought we’d know by now how to handle pandemics, but nooo.

“I wouldn’t have helped you clear out your shit if I wasn’t. Bit late to ask now.” “Yeah, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.”

Ethan turned towards me and spoke with a more serious tone. “I’m really happy to have you stay at my place. I think I would go mad staying alone. Go mad or go home, and I don’t think being locked up with the parents would be better.”

He was about as new in the city as I was, but his aunt had moved out of an old apartment last year and his parents had decided to take over the lease. Apparently it was even cheaper than the student apartments and much larger, but further away from campus. Though where it was in the city didn’t really matter as long as this lockdown was going on.

“Someone else is out at least”, I said indicating out the window. Across the street, a police officer with a navy blue face mask followed our truck with his eyes. Or her eyes I guess. Hard to tell in uniform and mask. I don’t know why, but I found it a rather good look. I hate the flimsy paper masks, but these form-fitted ones kind of make you look more badass.

“Do you think he looks sexy like that?” he asked, as if he had the same thought. “It’s a bit dystopian sci-fi, but that’s not to say it doesn’t look good.” “Take next right. The one after is one way.”

The apartment had two bedrooms, a large living room, decent bathroom and kitchen. Ethan’s aunt had left some furniture, but overall there wasn’t that much stuff. Makes sense as he had barely been here a month. That’s how he had a sparsely furnished extra bedroom for me to use. This was only the second time I had been in the apartment. Ethan forced me to have a look in person before he allowed me to agree to stay with him. Now standing there with all my belongings in the truck outside and my student flat lease canceled, I realized we really didn’t know each other. I studied corporate finance and he medical computer science, whatever that meant. When I asked he tried to explain that almost everything in a hospital now has a computer in it, and a ton of work went into things like volumetric renderings of MRI scans and somewhere there I started to tune him out.

There really weren’t any overlapping circles between us, we studied completely different subjects, he was active in computer games and health, I was trying to get into the writing room of the student theatre company and looking to sign up in the cinema club. But both of us had the bright idea to start working in the student pub, and really hit it off during the start of school year party they threw for their workers. We decided to pick the same work schedule and found out we have the same taste in pop culture, music, books, movies.

And now I’m moving in with him.

He had the larger of the bedrooms with a queen-size bed in the middle, a desk with a few computers and screens set up, gaming computer chair, a reading chair. Basically his room was set up so he could live there except for visits to the kitchen and bathroom. My room didn’t have a desk, but a normal bed, an armchair that looked comfortable, and more wardrobe space than I would ever need. He told me that I could basically consider the living room as mine as well. It had two couches in front of a big flat screen. By the balcony door stood a workout bench and weights. Barbell, plates, dumbbells, and that kind of stuff. Apparently it wasn’t Ethan’s but his uncle’s, but that didn’t really make a difference here and now.

Moving my stuff only took a few runs up the stairs, so we were soon back in the truck, returning it to the rental place. Ethan really didn’t have to come with me, but he said that this would probably be the last adventure for a while, and decided to come along.

“You’re supposed to buy pizza and beer for everyone who helps you move, right? What do you fancy?” “I’d like… You know what? We’re not going to get out much, and you don’t look like someone on a strict diet. Oh, no offense!” “None taken.” “How about we both keep healthy macros and workout regimen while locked up. Instead of paying rent you can help me make sure I at least isn’t in worse shape when all this shit ends.” “Macros?” “Diet.” “Sure I can do that, if you show me what to do.” “It’s a deal then. I’d like one with Gorgonzola and ham.” “Come again?” “The pizza topping. I’m allowed one cheat day per pandemic.”

The pizza place was only a block away from the apartment. Just this one time it was great, as we walked back with one quattro formaggi and one bresaola. But it would be so much harder to eat whatever Ethan had in his plans knowing a real wood fire oven pizza was just four minutes walk away.

Unprompted Ethan started to tell his story over pizza. How his father was a successful businessman in Arkansas, but his hometown always felt too small for him. He talked about how he was making synth music in school. How that made him interested in computers. How, since it was such a small town, he had ended up on the football team without any desire or skill to actually play the game. How he had almost by accident found this education program and had looked forward to both leave Arkansas and to study. I too did a year be year recap of my life so far, up to how my girlfriend dumped me just before the summer. In a way that was lucky, because it made me feel free from obligations and actually do what I wanted.

It was 9:21 when I woke up from a knock on the door. I was a bit disoriented for a second until I remembered where I was. I was sleeping in the guest bed left by Ethan’s aunt. After the pizza we did continue to talk over beer all evening, but I didn’t feel any hangover. Just thirsty. It wasn’t that early in the morning anymore on the other hand. “Yep” I called out. “I’m making breakfast,” Ethan called out from the other side of the door. “Coming”.

It literally only took me seconds to get ready. Stand up. Sweatpants. T-shirt. Done. In the kitchen I saw Ethan had a similar fashion sense, but had gone for shorts instead. “Porridge is fine with you? It would be good if it is. Lots of fibers.” I couldn’t really recall if I liked porridge and told him as much. The porridge itself didn’t taste much, but with toppings I could get used to it. “With our schedule in our own hands I think it would be a good idea to start out with breakfast and work out. That way we can get it out of the way.” Sounded sensible enough.

I changed into shorts as well and made myself ready to do my part of becoming Ethan’s gym buddy. At a quick glance we didn’t look that different, Ethan and I. On one hand I never had that big of an appetite, but on the other I had never really done any sports, and had no gym experience, so I let Ethan guide me. He tested different motions and how many times I could do them with weights he selected and noted down the results in a notebook that would log my progress. It wasn’t at all as tiring as I thought it would be. “Oh, you’ll feel it tomorrow for sure.” We each took a shower, and I went back to my room to catch up on my reading.

A few hours later I was starting to think about lunch. More because I was getting tired of reading than actually being hungry, but I thought I should ask Ethan if he had a plan. The door to his room was open, but as I got closer it became apparent it was an oversight on his part. Splayed on the bed was Ethan, naked save for a pair of boxer shorts and a big VR goggles. His right hand was massaging his obviously erect dick through the fabric of his underwear. He must have followed his normal routine and forgotten I had moved in. I’m not a prude and do the occasional tug myself, like any student, so I was more embarrassed than shocked. As on autopilot, my mind decided to ignore Ethan and continue walking to the kitchen to assess the lunch situation, but another part of my brain decided to keep him in sight.

Walking without watching in an apartment I’ve been in for all of 18 hours predictably made me jam my toe into the door frame. In the corner of my eye I could see Ethan’s body spasm and ripping off his VR goggles as I yell out in pain and surprise. He stared right at me, eyes wide open and mouth ajar in an expression that was hard to read. Surprise for sure, but also something else in between horror and delight. Perhaps it was like the smiles and laughter after you have completely made a fool of yourself. My eyes were drawn to his, and I could feel my face twisted in pain. It was like time stood still, waiting for either of us to make the next move. Out of sheer momentum my mind continued ahead as if nothing had changed and blurted out “What’s your plan for lunch?” over whatever Ethan said at the same time.

“What?” and an awkward pause again. “I said would you like to try?” “I… What is it?”

Ethan put down the VR kit on the bed, quickly got up and stepped into his pair of shorts. His erection was still very much apparent. He pressed escape on one of the keyboards and the screen switched from one incomprehensible menu to another.

“It’s a virtual reality system. I’m using an open source environment system to render inputs from an interactive story engine controlled by a GAN AI system. I’ve been experimenting with regenerative NLP feedback loop plugins for it.” “I followed you all the way up to and including virtual reality system.” “It’s like a VR movie that is generated specifically for you. Here.”

He picked up the bulky goggles and held it out to me. It wasn’t just goggles, but a pair of headphones were built in, and there were a few additional sensors glued on. Hesitantly, and with a throbbing toe, I stepped forward and took the headset. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked. I put it on my head and as it settled into place a digital version of Ethan’s room wobbled into place as well. It was remarkably similar. The colors and patterns were all slightly wrong, but the layout of the room and placement of furniture was almost spot on. I assume he had measured everything at one point and put in the data somehow.

“Go lie on the bed.” Ethan told me. I very tentatively stepped towards the bed, and feeling my way there. It was somehow surprised to find a bed where the digital bed was, and although the visuals of the sheets didn’t quite line up with what I felt, if you just moved quick enough the illusion of actually being in the digital room felt very real.

“This is so weird.” “I’ll start a blank session for you.” “A what?”

Almost immediately a guy entered the room through the door frame. This must be some VR video recording or something because he looked completely real. About the same age as Ethan and I but more fit and, I’ll admit, better looking. He looked flush and sweaty, with his french crop unkempt as if he had just ruffled it. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt and sweatpant shorts. I couldn’t see further down from my position. “Fuck, that was so dope! I love getting pump like that, you know what I’m saying” He was stretching his arms in different ways. Then he zoned in on me, like he was actually looking me over. “Fuck, I love how you look, babe. Mind if I join?” I shake my head slowly. He breaks out in a big smile. I notice he has a bit of a sweatpants boner. Carefully he climbs into bed, next to me. There’s no vibrations of course, or heat or smell, but everything I see looks utterly convincing.

“Hey, are you OK?” “What the…”

I’m looking into Ethan’s face as he stands over me. Bewildered I pat my head.

“I removed it once the program stopped. Didn’t shake you from your sleep one bit. I guess it wasn’t that interesting for you.” “It was very convincing. I fell asleep?” “Perhaps moving stressed you more than you knew? Or it could just be, you know, how shit the world is right now.” “Fuck… I only wanted to ask about lunch.” “A bit late for that. It’s like four and something. Let’s wait an hour or two more and have dinner. Ok with you?” “Sounds dope.”

It was like neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened. I certainly had questions. Had I just fallen asleep like that? Perhaps he was right and I had been anxious about the move and how things would work out. And what was up with that program? It wasn’t gay, exactly, and it didn’t mean Ethan was gay, and if he was there wasn’t anything wrong with that. All of it was just so confusing. Perhaps Ethan was right to just pretend it didn’t happen. Poor guy. I walked in on him watching porn, and then I fell asleep when he tried to show his system. Watching the news on how ever more countries were shutting down was probably time better spent.

He had not joked about being sore in the morning. I woke earlier than in weeks feeling stiff as hell. I didn’t want to wake Ethan, but I couldn’t just lie there in agony, so I got up and did some bodyweight repetitions. Squats, push-ups, dips, and stuff like that just to get some blood flowing. It honestly felt great. Me doing morning gymnastics! Who would have guessed that a week ago? When I left my room I found out Ethan was already up, but didn’t want to wake me up.

“Dude, we need to sort that shit out. I’m ok with you making noise when you’re up. You live here.” “You live here too. What if whoever gets up first makes breakfast and wakes the other up.” “Yeah, dope. I’m down with that.”

We quickly worked out the kinks in our schedule. I would typically wake up first, do a quick workout routine in my room. Then set the breakfast and wake up Ethan. Then we would do workout together. We had different weights and number of reps, but we had very quickly settled on the same exercises, though Ethan was still adjusting my form ever so often. Ethan would then shower first while I did stretches. We then kept to ourselves until lunch. Ethan cooked for both of us. Depending on what we felt like and needed we would either go back to study or do something like shopping or that kind of stuff in the afternoon.

It was hard to keep track of time, but I think it was on a Sunday four weeks later when Ethan said during breakfast that he wanted to show me something he had worked on. He moved the workout bench and the barbell stuff to just outside his room and told me to lie down. The bar had no plates on it, and that’s how I’ve used it until two days ago when I started to add extra weight to it. Ethan emerged out of his room with the VR set in hand, and a trail of cables running in into one of his computers. “Here, give this a go.”

I was a bit surprised, given the last time, but I was also curious what he had to show. Once snugly fitted on my head I was transported into a real gym. It wasn’t a very large one, but a few people did their thing around me. He almost scared me, the guy with the french crop, when he called out “Hey, bro!” just to my left. He had the same navy blue sweatpant shorts as the last time, but his upper body was bare, glistening muscles. He took a step back and his eyes were scanning me up and down. “Dude, you look so fucking good! You’ve really been hitting the weights.” I smiled and immediately realized that I was smiling at an avatar that wasn’t actually there and couldn’t see me, but it’s amazing how good some positive reinforcement feels, even if it is from a program. Perhaps that was the surprise from Ethan.

“Here, show me what you got!”

He walked around me, through the couch I knew was there in the real room, and stood behind me. I leaned back fully on the bench and looked up. He stood over me, just behind my head, so all I saw was a navy blue bulge, some abs and pecs, and his face looking down on me. “Go on, I’ve got you.” I could somehow feel him standing over me. Was Ethan spotting me in the real world? Not that it matters with an empty bar. I grabbed it. It felt heavy. “Good. Give me 15.” He started counting as I lifted. “Slower on the way down. Keep control all the way. Ten more” As I was getting to fifteen he upped it a bit. “Come one! Five more!” As I sat the bar back I felt utterly exhausted. “Fucking awesome, dude!”

“You really went all out.” “What?”

I was lying on the workout bench but I wasn’t wearing any VR shit. I sat up and hit my head in the barbell.

“Fuck! Dude, what the hell!” “The idea was for it to be motivational, but you really took it to heart.” “It was fucking dope, bro. I’m so pumped. Guy was kind of cute too.” “You think?” “Fuck, yeah. I wish I had those pecs.” “You better start some supplements then, if you can’t even last a virtual session.” “What you mean, dude?” “It’s already lunch.” “Fuck dammit!”

I rubbed my head where I had hit it and looked around the room. It looked mostly like before, but the sun had clearly moved ahead. Fuck, I really felt pumped to get some reps in hard and really make a difference. Perhaps lunch, and then do my daily sets.

“You ok with shopping without me after lunch?” “Sure. You need anything?” “I… You said supplements.”

Fortunately for me I have a roommate that studies medicine, kind of. Well, he hasn’t actually gone to any of the classes yet, but he has the books, so he picked out some things for me to boost me. Some of it looked like medicine, in small plastic jars with scientific-sounding names that could just as well have been a frat house. Alpha-omega-manganese-BS-whatever. Some of it decidedly did not look like medicine. Enormous containers with lids that looked too fucking small, with names like amazing-gainz-ultra. He set up a regimen for me to follow, basically some stuff with every meal. I started right away that evening with something like a vanilla and chalk milkshake after dinner. I don’t know why, but something made me feel really good drinking it.

I slept fucking fantastic, and despite having done way more lifting the day before than ever I barely felt any soreness or anything. I probably woke up Ethan with my harder than normal pre-breakfast cardio. Lots of burpees and jumping jacks, so I almost felt guilty making breakfast while steaming sweaty, but whatever. Ethan had to remind me what supplements to take. I really should have written that shit down.

I had a strong deja vu while doing weights. It wasn’t until Ethan spotted barbell for me I realized that this was almost exactly what I had seen doing the VR shit. I looked up and saw Ethan standing over me similar to the guy, but Ethan was wearing grey sweatpant shorts and a red tank. I kind of wished he was topless as well, like the other guy.

“You ok down there?” “Fucking dope, bro”

I realized I must have zoned out a bit. What’s worse I could feel I rocked a hard erection out of nowhere. Rather than making a deal out of it, and run to the shower, I decided to pretend like everything is normal. Guys get boners all the times. He’s a guy, so he knows that. I even did a few extra exercises to really drive home that point. While Ethan took his shower I dared to lower my shorts and slowly stroke my dick. I haven’t cummed once since moving in with Ethan, which I realized was longer than I’ve gone in years. The days were blurring together. I hadn’t watched porn either since moving in. I’ve been too preoccupied with the move and everything else going on.

“All yours” Ethan said and closed the door to his room. I just froze. I was sitting on the workout bench, shorts by my ankles and dick in hand. He saw that. There is no way he didn’t see that. I could feel my face getting hot by embarrassment, yet I continued to sit there and stroke my dick. What the fuck is wrong with me. My mind flashed to Ethan, to the guy in the VR, to his bulge just above my eyes, to his abs to the barbell, to the free weights.

No. I got up and took a long shower, trying really hard to not think about anything. Just observing the tiles, the shampoo bottles, the soap. But there were the creeping thoughts that perhaps Ethan will find me a weird creep and kick me out. How would he do it? He’s been far too nice to be direct. Would he bring up this incident or would he just wait a week or something and over one lunch say something vague like we are not as good of a match as he hoped? Fuck. I needed to do something.

I couldn’t concentrate at all on the block on taxation I was supposed to read. Apart from the residual thoughts of unease I was beginning to see what a mistake it was to not cum in the shower. I was very close to surfing porn sites, but decided against it and ended up aimlessly browsing social media. I can’t really explain how, a hundred clicks that trended in that direction perhaps, but I got into the circles of fitness instagram people. Big arms, broad chests, and slinky stringers. Somehow I was hard again. Stealthily I walked back to the bathroom, locked the door, and started to jerk off in the shower. I’d been saving for a week and been hot all day, but somehow it took quite a while to shoot the load. My mind was a soup of barbells, Ethan, sweatpant shorts, vague old porn clips, and more recent instagram models. When I finally came it was like I’ve never orgasmed before in my life. Rope after rope shot out of me, the first few even hit the wall, and my hips involuntary thrust forward for each of them. I felt cleansed in a way, like a weight had been lifted from me. I couldn’t really understand why, though. Nothing had really changed.

I didn’t want to go back to my room and study. I rinsed the shower, got a pad and a pen, and went to the kitchen to get on top of the supplements. I decided to write down all the ingredients from the labels. I had just accepted Ethan’s plan uncritically. It’s probably fine, but I wanted to understand it. That’s where Ethan found me.

“Hey, dude. Already hungry?” “Yeah… No… I don’t know, bro.” “You don’t know?” “It’s like… Fuck. You saw, bro.” “Saw what? You jerking off?” He laughed and sat down. “You saw me doing it first.”

He was right, of course. I didn’t know how that could have slipped my mind.

“Was it porn?” I didn’t know why I asked that. I was curious, but it also felt a bit too personal of a question. “Yeah. Wanna see?”

Before I even had time to respond he continued “Let’s fill up your macros first and then I can show you. If past experiences are any indications you’ll take your time.” “Already jacked off today.” Why did I tell him that? “Even better”

Ethan had this ever changing dish where he would chop and fry vegetables like bell pepper, chili, garlic, ginger, onion, peas, and whatever else was around, pour in coconut milk and whatever spices you craved that day green curry or red curry for Thai, madras curry for Indian, Soy and miso for Japanese, anise and szechuan for Chinese, saffron and parmesan for Italian, and so on. Then serve it with pasta or grains or rice. I helped him prepare it, as I always do unless he started making it without telling me. This time however the air was different, filled with tension and awkward anticipation. He made it with chicken, lemon grass, and brown rice this time. We hardly spoke a word while cooking, and then continued to eat in silence. We both knew what was on my mind, and there wasn’t any question on the subject that wouldn’t be awkward. I was weirdly looking forward to trying out whatever it was he wanted me to try. I couldn’t explain why it felt so compelling to me. Just thinking about it made me hard. “You clean up here and I’ll go and set it up for you,” he said as soon as his plate was empty. “Yeah,” was all I could manage, and he left. I finished my plate as well, put the few things we’ve used in the dishwasher and went to his room.

His bed was made and on it was the VR headset and what I first though was a protein drink shaker. “Dude, is that a… fleshlight?” I asked him both with incredulity and genuine curiosity. Curiosity because a cable ran from it to one of the boxes on the floor that connected to his computers, and incredulity because I couldn’t believe he thought I would use one of his sex toys.

“Yes. No. Not exactly. It’s modified to connect into the haptic subsystem.” “Haptic?” “Force feedback” “It’s a vibrator, bro.” “Eh.. No. Well, not only. You’ll see.” “Why do you think I’d touch that, bro?” Though somewhere inside I knew I would. “It’s a brand new inset. You’ll be fine.”

I walked up to the bed and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. I would need to at least lower my shorts and boxers to get the until-recently-fleshlight on my dick, but Ethan was still in the room. Not only in the room but almost studying me like a lab project.

“I’ll lie down?” “Got to strip first,” he said motioning towards my tenting shorts. He saw me hesitated and continued “Dude, I just saw you jerk off in the living room this morning”. I blushed and pulled down my shorts and boxers, and stepped out of them. “Shirt too,” he said. I removed that as well and stood naked in front of him. “Wow, you are making progress. Ok, on the bed and hook yourself up. Red dot up.” I climbed into the bed, as he told me, and grabbed the cyber-fleshlight and pushed it down on my hard dick with the red dot up towards my head. There was some sort of lubrication in it and it slid on with very little effort. It must have been heated as well, because the lubrication didn’t make it feel cold. I was given a nod from Ethan and put on the helmet over my eyes and ears.

The alternative version of Ethan’s bedroom was already there, waiting for me. I looked around and as far as I could tell everything looked like in the real world, except no Ethan of course. After half a minute, perhaps more, I was almost about to ask if he had started it when the French crop guy jumped in through the doorway, as if he was in a hurry. He was naked except for a pair of white, tight speedos that both highlighted his big package and created a reference point for his deep tan and made it look even deeper. There was a sheen over all his body, like he had been working out hard or oiled himself up, and he was breathing heavy. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t expect you so soon,” he panted. I didn’t know what to say. “You want me to help you with that?” he asked and nodded towards my dick. I looked down and saw a massive erection, easily twice my real size. “As an apology…” he continued.

“Yeah, sure bro.”

He made the cutest little jump of joy in response, and caught my smile. He composed himself and locked eyes with me. Then he started some sort of dance where all the movement was in his hips and abs. Then he added more of the upper body, still keeping eye contact. I thought I would hose him down with cum from my monster penis right there, so sexy was it. He smirked and moved closer. Still swaying he leaned forward and licked the head of my dick, which shot pleasure up my spine. He then started to circle the head with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. The first few times were shallow, but then he stopped teasing and begun to really do down deep on the dick. In addition I could feel him alternate between stroking my hips, the insides of my thighs, and tugging my balls. Just as I was about to nut he stopped working on my dick and started to slowly run his tongue up my faint abs, circling my nipple. I was squirming in horny delight.

He was straddling me now, face to face. I couldn’t resist it any longer and reached to pull him towards me and kiss him on the mouth. There was a loud crack of plastic against plastic as our VR helmets collided. “Dude?” I was looking at the French crop guy who was moving his hands in front of his eyes. “Ethan?” I asked, suddenly realizing what was going on. The French crop guy looked bashful, did a little wave, and answered in not-Ethan’s voice “Yeah.”

“Did you just blow me?” “I wasn’t… No, it’s still the device.” I hesitated, considering briefly what this would mean. “Would you like to?”

[staywritten]

Roommates│Han Jisung (M)

Synopsis: Jisung is a selfish, rude and loud roommate but he’s also really cute and you can’t help but develop a crush or ignore the unspeakable tension.  Roommate!Au

Genre: A tiny bit of angst, Smut

Word Count: 3k

When you responded to an ad for a roommate online, you figured the worst thing that could happen to you was that you’d be killed by some stranger in your sleep. Especially because the ad was far too good to be true. The apartment was beautiful, an in-unit washing machine, walking distance to campus, and work, and its rent was a steal. Especially in Seoul. Unfortunately your roommate wasn’t some creepy serial killer who dwelled in a basement and rarely interacted with you. No, he was a young attractive inconsiderate asshole testing your patience.

Admittedly you were a bit flustered with you first met him. His gummy smile was your weakness, his cheeks so squishy it took everything in you not to poke them, and when he worked out around the apartment, wearing that cut off tank you loved so much, you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure.

And as smitten as you were with his appearance you wanted to fight him about 80% of the time.

From how he always took too long in the shower on days he knew you had class, how he always ate your food. Knowing damn well he wasn’t the one who bought it. How his dates would always use your shampoo the morning after, how his stupidly attractive friends were always over without warning. And the worst offense of them all. His damn music.

It was the middle of the night, you had stupidly agreed to cover your coworkers 8am shift on what was normally your day off and Jisung had his friends over. Again. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to live with a music major. But not just a music major, a music major that was an underground rapper, with lots of friends who frequented your apartment. 

Especially in the middle of the night after a show.

You tried to keep your outburst to a minimum. Sharing a space was about compromise. And you tried your damnedest to compromise. You bought noise-canceling headphones, you stuffed a towel under the bottom of your door to try and buffer the music, you tried having an asmr video of thunderstorms playing. You even attempted banging on the wall to get his attention to lower the volume.  Anything and everything to drown him out. But by 3am, you could not only hear the beats booming against the shared wall but the laughter of his friends.

“Oh my god. I can’t” you groaned, throwing the blanket off and storming over the whole five feet it took to get to his door. “Yah! Han Jisung!” you knocked on his door vigorously, to ensure he heard you. You knocking not letting up until he opened up.

He swung open the door, a scowl on his face at the interruption.

Originally you were planning on politely asking him to turn down the music. And that cordial thought went straight out the window the moment you saw him. It was like all you could see was red. Here you were frustrated in the middle of the night and he had the nerve to look that attractive. His snapback pushing back his hair, displaying his forehead. Honestly it made him look like a fuck boy and it was a weakness. “Do you ever sleep?! It’s 3am!”

His mood immediately went on the defensive when you started yelling. “I live here too, and the last time I checked I don’t have a bedtime!”

“You are such an asshole! Turn the music down!” you hated that your immediate response was to stomp your foot like a child. But he was being childish too!

“You can’t tell me what to do” he scoffed rolling his eyes. “If I wanna play music until 6am I can!”

“You are so inconsiderate!”

“Me? What about you!? You always act like I’m the problem. I don’t complain when you’re being a pig! I clean everything” he rolled his eyes “You’re not perfect I just don’t whine about it”

Your eyes widdened at the sudden attack “If my mess bothers you then just clean it up or tell me about it! Don’t try and throw it in my face in a conversation about something else!”

“You’re the one that came over here to pick a fight with me! I have guests and you barley even wear clothes! You’re the one being inconsiderate” He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth and he saw how immediately you looked uncomfortable. 

But there was no backing down now.

You immediately folded your arms over your chest, feeling far more exposed than you had realized. But it was the middle of the night. You were in your sleep clothes. Which tonight consisted of a pair of comfy short shorts, and a thin t-shirt. You were flustered and caught off guard with his attack. Suddenly you could feel the gaze of his friends, looking at you and you just felt so exposed.

He wanted to apologize the moment he saw your eyes glaze over. The frustrated embarrassed look becoming more noticeable. “I-”

“Do what you want” you mumbled before hurrying back to your room, slamming your door hard.

He groaned before slamming his door as well. He continues playing music throughout the night, even after his friends left. He knew he was doing it out of pettiness. But he hated that you came and yelled at him, and then he ended up feeling guilty.

It was always like that. 

It was like everything he did pissed you off and he couldn’t help that you were sensitive to everything. You nagged him all the time. And if he wanted to be nagged he could have continued living with his mother. You even managed to guilt him after his one night stands left. It was uncomfortable. Why should he have to live like this? He did his best to make sure you lived comfortably. He knew living with a guy could be kinda uncomfortable so he never hit on you, made sure his friends never made a pass at you and you always make it hard for him.

He knew you were attractive and everything you wore was gonna be sexy but you could try harder to be ugly. He didn’t want to fight with you but he opened the door and the first thing he noticed was just how stunning you looked in such a simple outfit, one that he never really saw. You usually wore hoodies, or a robe when you walked around the common areas. And just as quickly as he took in the exposed skin, you yelled at him. Your hair was messy, your clothes disheveled, the neck of your v-neck falling off your shoulder. You just looked so kissable-so fuckable. And he couldn’t, so he threw a tantrum.

He’d figure out how to make it up to you tomorrow, he knew it was your day off so he figured he’d make breakfast as an apology.

He rolled out of bed bright and early to get started on your favorite breakfast but frowned seeing you drinking coffee and eating some bread. You were already dressed and ready for the day. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, you rolling your neck stiffly. He looked at his phone checking the time. “Why are you awake?”

You rolled your eyes, and downed your coffee. “I have to go to work” you placed your cup in the sink, making sure to wash it and put it away before grabbing your bag. “Sorry if my exposed legs offend you, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Today’s your day off.” he ignored your little stab at him, he felt bad enough.

“I had to cover someone's shift.” you spat, shooting him a glare.

“Why didn’t you tell me last night...I would have-”

“You wouldn’t have care. I asked you to turn the music down…” you sighed heavily and walked over to the door, slipping your shoes on. “You never care.”

“Why didn’t you tell me...I would have never had the guys over if-” he jumped as you walked out slamming the door shut.

But that’s how things were between you two. 

There was an undeniable tension, but after a few days it’d slowly die down. He’d ask you what you wanted for breakfast and things went back to normal. He never apologized for being inconsiderate, you never apologized for throwing a temper tantrum. It may not have been the healthiest but it worked.

Being roommates was about compromise right?

It’d been about two weeks since your last argument with Jisung and for all intents and purposes things were going well. He’d been more mindful of having people over only on the weekends, and keeping the music to a minimum on days you had early shifts. And you had been more mindful to clean and stay in your room when he had his friends over.

You yawned walking out of your bedroom, padding over to get a glass of water. Jisung was cozy on the couch with a blanket, flipping through movies to watch. “You enjoy your nap? It’s like midnight”

You nodded and grinned, downing your water. “It was the best four hour nap I’ve ever had. And the best part is I’m off tomorrow so I can sleep in.” You cleaned your cup before walking to him. “What are you doing back so early? Didn’t you have a date?”

He sighed before rubbing his temples “I did.” his tone curt and short.

“That bad huh?” you sat beside him, hugging your legs to your chest. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I picked her up, we had dinner…” he hesitated looking back to you, trying to read your expression. “And…”

You smirked, raising your eyebrow. “Had sex?” you laughed “I’m a big girl Jisung. I know what sex is.”

“I know- we just never talk about it or dating in general and stuff...I didn’t know if that was weird…” he fiddled with his sweater uncomfortably. “Like you don’t bring guys back…”

“Jisung no offence but, I don’t bring guys back when you’re home. It’s kinda uncomfortable too, and I don’t like scaring guys off with the My roommates is a guy, talk on first dates.”

“Woah- wait you brought guys back here after the first date?”

“Sometimes” you grinned, eyeing him “Han Jisung… You seem so surprised” your tone light and teasing. “Is it so hard to imagine that even I have sex?”

“No it’s just… “

“I’ll have you know I’m actually quite charming.”

“Oh I know” he looked a little embarrassed at how quickly it slipped out. “Like I know you’re hot and charming and… I dunno I just feel a little in the dark...I didn’t even know you were dating and yet I-”

“Bring your dates back home all the time.” you gave him a smug smile “Trust me, I know” you pointed to the walls. “They’re thin, remember? Oh and your dates always use my shampoo and body wash”

“I’m sorry…. That’s kinda rude isn’t it?”

You shook your head “Live comfortably”

“But you don’t…”

“Jisung, I don’t bring guys home when you’re here because I don’t want you to have to hear us.” you cheeks warmed as you chewed on your lower lip. “I’m kinda loud, I’m a little self conscious.”

“I wanna hear…” he turned toward you, his voice barely above a whisper. Part of him was hoping you didn’t hear him over the Netflix trailers, the other part of him prayed you heard him so he couldn’t chicken out.

“Do you?” your eyes darkened as you stared at him, slowly moving closer to him. He took in a sharp breath before pulling you into his lap. You grinned, straddling him, your lips inching closer to his before pulling away. Just ghosting the slightest bit, loving how he chased you. “Tell me bout your date and I’ll do whatever you want”

“Isn’t that kinda weird?” he tried to read your expression, but his wary look turned into one of intrigued as your smile grew. “Wait… Could you hear us earlier…?” He felt himself getting turned on more, as he noticed how warm you were, how flushed you got thinking about it. “I thought you were asleep…’

“You guys woke me up” you licked your lips, your hips moving against his just slightly. He stifled a groan before steadying your hips.

“It turns you on doesn’t it...? Hearing us?” Seeing your coy smile, he grabbed your jaw before pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips moved quickly against yours, as he nipped and chewed on your bottom lip. “Mmm…” He pulled your hoodie over the top of your head and groaned seeing your bare chest. “No shirt or bra?” he traced your soft, smooth skin, running his fingers up your sides.

“I never wear a bra at home” he smirked against your skin, kissing down your neck.

“You never answered my other question…” his teeth grazed your skin, reaching your nipples “Mmm such a pretty color Baby…” he whispered, his eyes peeking up at you as he peppered kisses before taking the bud into his mouth, sucking softly. His free hand palming your other one, gently tweaking your nipples. He loved how it made your squirm. You hips, desperate for friction. Almost angered by how much both your sweatpants got in the way. “Do you get turned on when you hear me have sex…? Did you wish it was you? Do you touch yourself…?” he chuckled, kissing your nipples, his teeth tracing them. Your head rolled back as you whined bucking your hips more. “Pay attention baby...answer me.”

“I get turned turned on…” your pout deepened before you cupped his squishy cheeks. “I wished it was me...and I always touch myself…” you leaned down closer to his ear, your lips brushing against the shell of his. “And I always cum…”

He gripped your hips tighter, digging into your skin. “Fuck….I…” he gripped your bottom, moving you closer to his crotch. “How many times did I make you cum tonight…?” his voice dropping an octave as he teased you. His fingers found their way into your sweatpants, teasing you from the outside of your panties. “Mmm and since when do you wear sweatpants?”

“I thought you said I didn’t wear enough clothes”

“Yeah when my friends are over and I’m trying to not fantasize about fucking you over every surface” he chuckled, rubbing a bit harder feeling your panties moistened. “Answer me Sweet girl….How many times did you cum?”

“Nnnn...how do you know I’m sweet?” you shivered as his finger rubbed against your slit. “You’ve never tasted me” you moaned softly.

“Stop trying to distract me, if you’re a good girl and answer me and I will.”

“T-twice…”

“I’m gonna double that” he whispered before tossing you on your back on the couch, making quick work of your sweatpants and panties.

You grinned as he settled himself between your legs. His mouth covered your core, as his tongue made its way inside you. Your thigh hooked around his shoulder as he deepened his teasing. “A-Ahh Jisung… you’re no fair” you panted “You never told me about your date”

“You minx” he grinned, pulling back just slightly pushing his index finger inside of you, curling it and watching you squirm. “You heard us, you know exactly why my date went badly.”

You shivered, gripping the arm of the couch. “But I want you to say it.” you licked your lips. “Please...I wanna hear it-Ah!”

He teased, shoving another finger inside of you, pumping it in and out. “Did it make you cum when you heard me call out your name instead?” his voice low and husky.

You nodded, squirming more from his teasing. “You sounded so sexy when you moaned my name” you reached down pulling at his shirt, pulling it over the top of his head. “I know you didn’t get to finish” you grinned. “Should I be nice and let you finish in me?”

“Please…” You ran your hand down his toned chest, the efforts of his workouts paying off so beautifully. He pressed his mouth over your center again, relentlessly, teasing and fingering you until you were a moaning mess. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pressed him into you, desperate to cum, you were so close. But more than his tongue, more than his fingers, the thing that brought you closer to the edge was his intense eye contact. It was both shy and dominating. He just never looked away and for the rare moments he did, the way his gaze flashed up at you made you feel so flustered. “J-Jisung” you moaned out, your stomach tightening as you shivered. He helped you ride out your high, his fingers relentlessly moving until you came against him.

“Such a pretty girl…” he licked the slick off his lips before meeting your lips again. “You were so good for me..”

“I can be better” you reached for the growing tent in his pants, rubbing him. “Let me..” you crawled closer to him, wanting to return the favor.

“No baby.. I don’t need it. Right now all I need is you.”

“But-”

“I’ve literally been thinking about you all night, I promise if you put your lips on me, I’m not gonna last.” he gave you a sheepish look, almost embarrassed from his confession. 

“Fine” you pouted pulling his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs.

“Don’t pout” he chuckled, kissing your jaw. “Next time Baby”

He was fully erect, pre-cum leaking from his swollen head. You smiled, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing him firmly. “I need you…”

His head rolled back as he closed his eyes. The feeling of your fingers around him was like a dream. “Mmm Baby, I need to get a condom”

You shook your head and grinned, your grip tightening a little. “No~I want you now…” 

“You serious?”

“I wanna feel you Jisung~ Can’t I? Will you let me?” your voice so soft as you coaxed him into a deep kiss. Your tongue rolling against his “Please?”

“You beg for me so well..Fuck-yes Baby” you rubbed himself against your wet entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. There it was again, that beautiful eye contact, that little furrow in his brow when he concentrated, his soft lips pulling into a pout as he moved against you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“It’s ok, you can go harder.” you encouraged him.

And that was all he needed before he began to pound into you more vigorously. His hands moving down your body, cupping your breast and rubbing against your side. Like he was just desperate to touch everywhere. His lips occasionally finding yours to tease. “C’mere…”

He pulled you onto his lap again, his back against the couch as he let you ride him. He hit deeper at the new angle, and you loved every second of it. You arched your back, gripping the couch as you moved your hips faster, in a circular motion to stimulate yourself. 

His lips sucking the soft skin of your neck, leaving a mark as you moved. His strong hands on your hips guiding you back and forth on him. “Faster baby” he whispered huskily. Your moans music to his ears, his, your desperate cries of his name, encouraging him more. “I’m almost there, are you close?”

“Not quite but don’t worry about me I-” you moaned out louder, feeling him tease and squeeze your clit. “Ah-Jisung!”

He kept rubbing your clit harder, desperate thrusting into you, his free hand moving your hips harder. “Cum for me Baby…” he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

He could feel you pick up the pace, your body shivering as your second climax inched closer. “That’s my girl…” he slammed into you, gripping so tight as he released, he kept moving until he felt you cum following not far behind him, just long enough before the over stimulation became too much to handle.

“Jisung” you whined, holding his shoulders to steady him, your face collapsing in his chest as you calmed yourself, and steadied your breathing. You could feel him start to soften inside you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Mmm… you’re right you are pretty loud, it’s so sexy” he chuckled running his hand up and down your back.

You pulled back to look at him and pecked his nose softly. “I’m really glad your date ended badly tonight”

“Hell, me too” he laughed “I’ve had a crush on your since you moved in, but kinda figured I shouldn’t try and hit on my roommate” he playfully spanked your behind for you to get up. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and got you both cleaned off before he tugged back on his sweats, you only bothered to put on a new pair of panties and a t-shirt. He cleaned up your clothes to put near the laundry while shyly looking at you, like he was trying to find the courage to speak.

“What is it?” you leaned against your door frame, watching him fidget with everything in his path from the washing machine to your door.

“I-Um...Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?” he asked shyly, standing in front of your door. “I know the order is kinda backwards but, I really am interested in you and I was kinda hoping this wasn’t just a one night thing. I mean-If it was that’s cool with me too, like no pressure but”

“You’re rambling” you grinned “I’d love to go out tomorrow.”

“Really?!” he smiled so brightly, his beautiful brown eyes disappearing in a crescent shape as that gorgeous gummy smile graced his face.

“Really” you giggled, subtly touching his hand. “You weren’t the only one with a crush Jisung”

“Can I kiss you goodnigh-” you interrupted his silly question, pressing your lips against his before pulling him into your bedroom.

End.

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  Hey Friends I hope you liked that one shot, it was my first smut for stray kids, i know it was kinda long. But it seemed silly to split it up into parts so I hope you didn’t mind >///< If you liked it let me know~

-D❍MI

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

VISIONS IN THE SNOW

Good Evening All! I have a new one-shot that was inspired by the horrific weather that recently swept across the U.S. It caused so much grief, suffering to so many people. I hope this would bring a smile to some faces. This was written with one particular person in mind (and you know who you are) and I’m glad you like it.

Thanks as always to @scubalass for the read through. Your suggestions were, as always, spot on. It made the final story so much better.

Status of Edinburgh to Boston: There is progress but it is painfully slow. There are two characters that are essential to this chapter whose voice I do not hear as well as I do Jamie and Claire. I write something, then I delete it and I do the same thing over and over. We will come to an understanding at some point so dinna fash. There will be A/N at the end to explain words or terms.

Without further delay I give you Visions in the Snow.

Here goes nothing:

VISIONS IN THE SNOW

February 1968  - Boston

The responsibility for hosting this week’s poker game fell to Joe Abernathy.  He took his duties in this regard very seriously. It was the way the surgeons decompressed after a week of stressful surgical procedures and this week was no exception. 

“It must have been a full moon,” he thought. Motor vehicle accidents, stabbings, gunshot wounds, volvulus, a ruptured esophagus, the works. It was during these times that he dearly missed his friend. Claire. He cast his glance over to the card table set with one extra place, Claire’s place. On the seat was her green visor that she wore when she played poker with the boys. It sat in repose like a memorial to a fallen comrade.

Silly thing! She believed wearing it masked her glass face.  Nothing could be further from the truth, but none of her colleagues had the heart to tell her. They all knew what Claire Randall was thinking. So much so, they often let her win which caused her to think she was good at playing poker.

He glanced around the room and saw that everything was in readiness for the evening. The sideboard groaned beneath the bounty of food, snacks, and brews.  

Outside, the wind blew fiercely rattling the windows drawing his attention. Joe looked out the window watching the two front trees bowing to the brute force of nature. Their skeletal fingers scraped at the roof almost as if trying to gain entry. It had been snowing for the last six hours with no sign of it letting up. He had considered canceling the game but a majority of his colleagues soundly vetoed that idea. Only Callahan and Peterson dissented. Callahan’s wife would kill him if he left her alone to deal with their six small ones while he went to play poker. Peterson lived thirty miles away. The remaining players all lived a short walking distance from his home, on Doctors Row. It was so-called because many of the physicians who worked at the hospital lived on the same street.  These surgeons were gambling men betting they had enough time for some comradery, hands, and beers before the brunt of the storm arrived.   

For a Boston snowstorm, it hadn’t accumulated very much. Yet. Regardless, it would not hamper these hardened surgeons accustomed to driving through Boston’s worst to get to the hospital. Without warning, the storm picked up intensity driving the snow hard enough to erase the landscape before him. Amid the squall, a hazy light glowed like the high beams of headlights in the snow. A wraithlike figure emerged from its center. Joe wasn’t able to make out any of its features. Man? Woman? He wasn’t sure. But one thing was for sure, it was headed directly toward his house. 

Joe leaned closer trying to see if the person was in distress as they were caught out in the snow. Maybe they had abandoned their car and were seeking help.  His warm breath met the cold pane fogging it, wholly obscuring his view.  Using his shirt sleeve, he wiped away the condensation hoping to improve his ability to see. As the person drew closer, it became apparent that it was a young woman and her attire was totally inappropriate for the weather. She wore a long dress whose hem floated across the snow. It looked like a green and black plaid and a white scarf crossed her neck to cover her bosom. Her hair was dark, curly, piled high on her head, and tendrils framing her face. She looked a lot like… It couldn’t be, could it? She came closer. So close that he could see her eyes. Eyes the color of a fine whisky. Claire? Claire! How? She had left for Scotland, disappearing into the past, to find her true love.

Anxiety flowed through him. He needed to speak with the woman. He needed to know if it truly was Claire. Joe tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge. The frame had swollen from the moisture, he thought. He rapped on the window calling her name, but she paid no heed.

Claire was running and laughing bright and merry. Stopping suddenly, she turned and extended a hand into the haze. A man appeared laughing and chased after her. He was a big son of a bitch standing at least six feet four inches and as big as a brick…Well, he was big. He had a mop of red hair, but to simply say red would deny the richness of the color. It was a curly thick mosaic of cinnamon, auburn, gold, and cinnabar.  And his eyes were the deepest blue Joe had ever seen. The man was kitted out in traditional highland garb right down to the sword strapped to his side. Reaching her, the young man made a courtly bow. He straightened, then took her hand to bestow a kiss. A moment later, he lifted and spun her around. She tossed her head back and peals of joyous laughter rang through the air. He set her down gently settling his hands on the swell of her hips. His eyes danced with love as he lowered his head to kiss her most thoroughly. Joe felt his cheeks burn as he watched such intimacy. 

Time advanced in front of him. He became witness to a lifetime, to a marriage, to the bonds of love that could not be broken. The vision changed from the blush of first love through to a life fully lived.  He wept at their trials, tribulations, and heartbreak. And he reveled in their accomplishments, triumphs, and joys. But through all their hardships, and there were many, their love for each other never wavered, never changed. 

The final event showed the couple had aged. The woman, Claire, had streaks of grey in her hair while the man’s hair had lightened. They stood atop a ridge overlooking some land. The man had his arm securely around her waist pulling her protectively close to him. Claire stood on her tiptoes wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a fiery kiss. She nodded her head and started to pull him toward a cabin. He scooped her up and carried her across the threshold kicking the door shut. 

As the vision faded back into the vapor as a voice called out, “I am happy Joe. I found my Jamie.”

Resting his head against the cold pane of glass provided a sense of comfort to his unsettled mind and spirit. Uncertainty gripped him as he grappled to understand what happened. Had this been a dream? Or a hallucination? Or had the fabric of time somehow been rent apart? He shook himself, much like a dog dispelling the rain from its coat, hoping to lift his state of bewilderment. 

Psssst, pssst, ssssssss! The homely sound of the radiator hissing brought him back to himself and away from his ruminations.

Mercilessly, the wind blew about the house ferociously shaking the windowpanes in their frames then suddenly died away. Out of curiosity, Joe tried to open the window. This time it slid open with ease. The blinding snow stopped returning to light flurries. As he turned to walk away from the window, he noticed the clock on the mantel. It was one minute later than when he last looked at it. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” he muttered.

Joe walked over to Claire’s chair and picked up the visor cradling it to his chest,  “Wherever you are Claire, I’m glad you’re happy and you found your Jamie. Jamie, if you can hear me, take good care of our girl.”

With that, the doorbell rang and Joe went to greet his guests.

                                                        *************

Claire woke with a start bringing Jamie to instant alertness. He grabbed the pistol he kept by his bedside in preparation for any threat. Seeing none, he turned to look at Claire. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Sassenach, what’s amiss? Are ye alright?”

“I dreamt...I dreamt I was back in Boston going to play poker with the other surgeons. It was our regular night to play. The game was at Joe’s house and there was this blizzard.”

“Poker? What kind of game do ye play with a poker?” he was afraid to ask. Claire had told him so many peculiar stories about her time that he thought this would be another one. The only poker he knew about was the kind used in a fireplace.

“It’s a card game. I was rather good at it too. Someday I’ll have to teach you.” Claire snuggled up against Jamie seeking his heat, his comfort. She yawned greatly, “Except I will miss my green visor.”

 “A vi-zor?” All he could envision was a knight’s helmet with a visor covering the eyes and face.

“It’s a sort of hat with a green brim. It shades your eyes and some of your face. People use it to hide their facial expressions when they bluff at cards.”

Jamie looked at her as if she were a bit daft. He knew nothing could hide her thoughts on that glass face. He tucked her head under his chin, “Come, Sassenach, rest yer head, aye? I think ye had a bit of the nightmare. I’ll keep ye warm and safe.” He lowered his head placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Jamie closed his eyes and thought about the black man he had seen in his dreams too. “Aye, dinna fash, Joe. I’ll care for her with my life,” he whispered just before lapsing into sleep.

A/N:

VOLVULUS: A volvulus occurs when part of the colon or intestine twists. The twisting causes bowel obstructions that may cut off the blood supply to areas of the bowels. This can cause the bowel to die or left untreated the person can die.

RENT: This involves a story. When I was in catechism class the teacher was telling the story of Christ’s trial before the Pharisees. When Jesus was condemned one of the Pharisees was said to have rent his garment. You say that to a bunch of kids and they start to giggle. They wanted to know who he rented his clothes to and for how much. So the teacher explained that to rent something meant to tear it apart violently. I fell in love with the word’s usage and I never thought I would get to use it in this way. But I did!

And poor Jamie, Claire’s stories always leave his surprised, confused, shocked among other feelings.

The truth behind this story was that it was supposed to be smutty. Instead, it evolved into this. It was supposed to happen that the Ridge was also snowed-in. Claire was bored with playing chess with Jamie and wanted to play something else. She wanted to teach him strip poker. So I left myself an opening if I chose to do a second chapter. But I have to finish E2B first.

I hope you liked this and it brought a smile to your face.

You can find me on AO3. There I am LadyJane518.

Thanks for reading!

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

Lie For Me (part IV of V) (Part I) (Part II) (Part III)

Pairing - Modern!Ben Solo x Reader

Summary - You haven’t heard anything from Ben Solo, and you can’t figure out why. It takes a run in with Han, a forced doorstep conversation, and a confrontation in a bar for you to get any answers. Once you do, you’re even more confused than you were to start with. 

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - Language and a small bit of violence, but that’s it! 

It had been over a week since you had heard from Ben Solo. 

You tried not to let that fact bother you. In fact, you didn’t have time to let it bother you, because you were starting your new job today. 

The job that Ben had helped you get. 

That was unimportant though. You had your dream job, and you weren’t going to mess it up for anything. So it was time to focus and prove how you deserved to be here. You wore your favorite outfit, woke up early to make sure you had enough time to get a coffee, and arrived at the bottom floor with ten minutes to spare. 

“Someone’s trying to make a good impression.” A voice from behind you said. 

You turned around with a smile, happy to see a now familiar face. Vic had joined the company at the same time as you, and the two of you had done all of your training together. You got along rather well, and it reassured you to see him first thing this morning. “I could say the same for you. Are you ready for today?” You asked. 

“Ready as can be. Want to walk up together? I want to see the new office.” He teased you. 

Grinning at him, you nodded. It was a new perk that you enjoyed, having your own office, and you couldn’t deny you were eager to show it off. You led him there, discussing random things in your life until you reached it, unlocking the door and leading him inside. 

“Wow, those are some nice flowers.” He said as he caught sight of the large bouquet sitting in the middle of your desk. Flowers that hadn’t been there the last time you left this room. 

While he explored the rest of your space, you walked over, curious as to where they had come from. When you saw the card that said, “Good luck on your first day.” You assumed that they had to have come from one of your friends, but when you flipped the card over, your stomach plummeted to see the name Ben on the other side. 

This man was really going to ignore you for a week, and then send you flowers for your first day at work and act like nothing was different? A flicker of irritation went through your body, and you placed the card down on your desk. 

Vic called your name, and it took him doing it twice before you heard him. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I was asking if you wanted to go get drinks after work. Celebrate surviving the first day?” He asked, biting his bottom lip as he waited for your response. 

It would be so easy to say yes. You should say yes. You liked being around him, and you knew that he was good company. There was nothing stopping you.

Except for the damn card sitting on your desk and haunting you. 

“I - uh, can I take a rain check?” You asked, sending him a small smile. “I already have plans tonight with some friends.” It wasn’t a lie . . . but you . . . you couldn’t do it. Besides, if someone saw you with a guy who wasn’t Ben, and the word somehow got around to Ben’s parents who thought you were dating . . . 

Even though the relationship was fake, you liked Han and Leia. You didn’t want them to think any less of you. 

“Sure,” He said, shrugging his shoulders, and to his credit, didn’t seem disappointed at all. “I will be taking you up on that raincheck sometime.” Vic added as he started to back out of your office heading to his own work station. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You said with a smile, waving to him as he closed the door. After he left, you glanced at the clock, and  you realized that you had a couple of minutes until work started.

And that card still sat on your desk. 

You didn’t even think about what you were doing. In seconds, you had your phone out of your pocket, and had selected Ben’s name in your contacts, bringing it up to your ear as it began to ring. Of course, the longer he took to answer it, the more you thought about what a bad idea this must be. But after about four rings, he did answer, his hello rough and low in your ears. 

“Hey, um,” it was a startling revelation to realize that you were kind of nervous. For as long as you had known Ben Solo, you had felt several different emotions around him, but never had you been so anxious to hear his voice. “I - I got your flowers.” 

There was a pause, but only a moment. “I ordered those a couple of weeks ago. I apologize for not cancelling them.” 

“Cancelling them?” Your brow furrowed together as you sat down in your chair, frowning. The two of you were supposed to be dating, and your boss knew that. Why would he have wanted to stop them? Plus . . . they were beautiful, and you had spotted several of your favorite flowers in the arrangement. 

He didn’t give you a chance to ask anything else though. “Someone walked into my office. I’ll talk to you later,” and without waiting for you to say a word, he hung up. 

You looked down at your phone in disbelief at the sudden dismissal, and leaned back in your chair with an annoyed sigh. 

What the hell was going on with him? 

____________________

It was a full week before you found out what had happened. You  had decided to take your lunch break at a nearby park since the weather was nice. You were sitting and enjoying your sandwich when a large, brown mass of fur ran and jumped on you, knocking your food out of your hand and licking all over your face. 

At once a huge smile formed, and you began petting the large dog. “Well, hi there, Chewy. It’s nice to see you too.” You said through your laughter. 

“Get off you fuzzball!” Han’s annoyed voice called, and you glanced up to see the  man in question running in your direction, stopping once he realized who you were. “Oh, hey,” he said, and you watched as he ran a hand through his hair, “sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, giving him an encouraging smile that seemed to put Han more at ease. “I’ve missed the troublemaker.” You said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “I hope there haven't been any more attempts at escape?” 

Han let out a chuckle and sat down beside you on the bench. “Not yet, but I’m sure they’re coming. Damn dog’s almost more trouble than he’s worth.” 

You let out a chuckle of your own, turning your smile to the dog in question. “Well, if you ever need any help catching him, let me know. I wouldn’t mind helping out.” 

At your words, Han gave you a confused look. “You wouldn’t?” 

“Of course not. Why would I?” You asked, giving him your own unsure look. 

Han shifted around in his seat, his brow furrowed as he responded, “Since you and Ben broke up I thought -”

Everything else he said was muted in your head. It felt like you were underwater, your brain trying to catch up with his words. Ben had told his parents that the two of you had broken up? Without even telling you? You understood that there probably wasn’t a reason to keep the ruse going any longer, but a head’s up would have been nice so there wasn’t an awkward situation like this. Now you were scrambling for something to say, and Han was looking at you like he was waiting for you to speak. “Oh, um, right.” 

Thankfully, it seemed your confusion worked in your favor as Han gave you a sympathetic look and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Listen kid, give him time to come to his senses. My son’s got a stubborn side, that he got from his mother of course,” You couldn’t help but give him a small smile at that. “But I can tell he cares a lot about you. He just needs a minute to get his head on straight.” 

Ignoring the way Han’s words made your heart stutter, you nodded. “Yeah . . . maybe that’s all he needs.” 

____________________

This was a bad idea. 

Ever since you had talked to Han this afternoon, his words had echoed in your head, and you hated it. You had never been the type of person to spend hours thinking about a guy’s motives behind his actions, but now it seemed as if your brain could do nothing else. All during work you had been distracted, and that was not how you wanted to be when you were still new. So you weren’t going to let it continue. If Ben wasn’t going to give you any closure on what the two of you had gone through, you would make him. 

Sitting on the porch of his apartment with Poe probably wasn’t the best way to get it, but it was the first thing that you had thought of. 

You had a general idea of what time he came home, and thankfully you had only been sitting there for about an hour when you heard footsteps on the stairs. Your heart did an odd little stutter and anxiety filled your chest as you stood up, but you brushed it aside as best you could, determined to get some answers. 

He was startled to see you, that much was easy to see, but almost as soon as you read it, it was gone, a blank mask replacing the expression as he shrugged his bag higher up on his shoulder. “Are you waiting for Poe? He’s going to be late tonight.” 

“Waiting for -” You gave him an incredulous look. “Of course not. I’m waiting for you. Thought it might be a good idea to talk where your work couldn’t interrupt you.” 

“Well, you’ve never been here to see me, so I thought Poe was the logical conclusion.” Ben said, walking up the remaining steps and beginning to unlock the door. 

A flicker of irritation started to form in your heart, and you clenched your fists at your side. “I ran into Han today.” Even with his back to you, you saw the tension form in his shoulders. “If I had time to prepare, I would have brought a box of your things to return.” 

Ben turned back to look at you then, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess I should have sent you an email. I told them last weekend.” 

“An email?” You repeated, your mouth almost dropping in disbelief. “Is that what I’ve been reduced to now? Not even worthy of an email?” 

He shrugged his shoulders as if his words hadn’t cut into your chest like a knife. “I didn’t expect you to run into my parents anytime soon. I apologize for that. I decided since we both got what we wanted, there wasn’t any need to keep lying.” 

“Don’t you think I should have had some sort of say in -” You started to say, but he cut you off. 

“In what? Our transaction?” 

The breath was robbed from your lungs. You had come here for closure, trying to discern his behavior, and with those words, you had gotten what you wanted. If, no matter everything the two of you had shared, all he saw from this was a transaction? It was obvious where his ‘caring’ feelings stood. 

If only you had been able to keep the same mindset. 

You couldn’t stand to look at him for any longer, knowing what you knew now. You wouldn’t dare let him see how much those simple words had affected you. You wouldn’t let yourself appear weak. “I would have liked a head’s up. That’s all, but you’re right. Whatever we had should end. It was going on for too long anyway.” You said, trying to match his tone. You picked up your bag from the ground, placing it over your shoulder. “Let Poe know I’m sorry I missed him.” You said, and without another word, turned on your heel and headed back to your car. 

A part of you, no matter how small, hoped that he would call you back, run to you and spin you around, kissing you like he had that day in the bathroom, like you were something precious that might slip through his fingers . . . but he didn’t. 

And you didn’t let the tears fall until you were safely in your car. 

 ____________________

It was a lot easier to say what happened between you and Ben hadn’t affected you than to believe it yourself. However, you didn’t think you were that convincing in the first place. Rey and Finn could sense something was wrong. It was obvious in the way that watched your every move, and came up with things to do to keep your mind occupied. You appreciated it, but you hated the fact that they even had to do it in the first place. In fact, you hated that you had let Ben Solo have any affect on you at all. 

Which was why you resolved to not let him have any more. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” Rey said as the three of you walked into one of your favorite bars, arms all linked together. 

“We can go back to your apartment, watch the Office again, and order takeout?” Finn suggested. 

“Guys,” you shot them a stern look, one after the other. “I want to be out. I want to do things, and most importantly . . .” You pulled away from them with a smirk, glancing around the bar. “I want to get laid.” 

“You want to . . . what?” Rey asked. 

You turned your attention back to her, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve been stuck in a stupid fake relationship for like three months where I wasn’t getting any, and I’ve been working hard on this new job. I think I’ve earned a bit of stress relief.” 

Finn and Rey exchanged glances. “Of course, if that’s what you want.” Finn said, shrugging his shoulders. 

What you really wanted was to get the sensation of Ben Solo’s lips off of yours, and this was the quickest way to do that. 

Right? 

“Yes, this is what I want.” You reassured them, reaching out to grab both of their arms and tug them towards the bar. “Now let’s get some drinks. First round is on me.” 

____________________

It turned out finding someone to have a good time with was a lot harder than you thought it was going to be. Over the course of two hours, you had talked to around five guys, none of the conversations lasting more than twenty minutes, for purely, you would admit, shallow reasons on your behalf. 

One had the most annoying laughter you had ever heard. Another wouldn’t stop saying “really?” every other sentence. Then there was the guy who had smaller hands than you. If it wasn’t going bad enough, then you met the man who wouldn’t stop smiling with too big of a grin, and after talking to the last one, you realized what was holding you back. 

None of them made your heart race like Ben. 

“I’ve never seen someone looking so miserable at a bar.” A voice said as a body slid in beside you. 

You recognized it at once, turning to give Vic a genuine smile. “Well, I am about to run low on my drink.” You teased him. 

“Guess I’ve got to fix that.” He said, returning your smile as he gestured to the bartender. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean -” You tried to stop him, your face growing hot, but he shook his head. 

“You owe me a raincheck remember?” Vic said. 

“All right,” You agreed, watching as he turned back to the bartender and noticing for the first time how nice his eyes were. 

Maybe this night was finally starting to turn around. 

Three drinks later, you found yourself leaning against Vic’s side, snorting with laughter as he told you, Finn and Rey about the most embarrassing first day of a job he’s ever had. “So you just took off?” Rey said, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. 

“Didn’t say a word?” Finn asked, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Vic shrugged his shoulders. “Boss told me to get out of there. So that’s what I did.” He said, taking another sip of his drink. 

“You’re terrible. I can’t believe they hired you.” You teased him, bumping his shoulder. 

“Neither can I.” A low voice interrupted from behind you, a voice that made you freeze in your spot. If you hadn’t known by the voice, the looks on Rey and Finn’s faces told you at once that Ben Solo was standing behind you. 

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t want to look at him because you didn’t know if you could control your expression. Your heart was already pounding heavy in your chest, and if you looked at him . . . 

“Well, if it isn’t Ben Solo.” Vic said, and you glanced at him to find a rather callous grin on his face. A look that you had never seen, and had no desire to see again. 

As soon as you saw it, you couldn’t help it any longer, and looked behind you to Ben who had an equally unpleasant expression on his own face as he stared at Vic. 

It was at that moment that you realized the two of them must know each other. 

And not in a good way. 

You glanced back at Finn and Rey who were looking as confused as you did as they watched the exchange. Rey shrugged her shoulders and Finn raised his eyebrows, so clearly they had no idea what was going on either. 

Turning back to look at Ben, you felt a shiver roll down your spine. You had seen Ben angry several times. Your mind flashed back to that first night the two of you had pretended to be, ‘dating’, when you had overheard those girls talking about you in particular. The burning rage in his eyes almost seemed tame now compared to the look that he was giving Vic. “What are you doing here?” He asked, venom leaking from his tone. 

“Having a drink with a coworker.” He said, and did he lean even closer to your side or were you imagining it? 

Nope. You hadn’t imagined it, because as soon as you noticed it, it seemed Ben did too. His jaw tensed so hard it looked as if it had turned to stone. The fire in his eyes turned them even darker, a dangerous black, as his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Coming to get my girlfriend.” Ben hissed through his lips. 

You barely had time to stutter out the word, “girlfriend?” before Ben had hauled you up out of your chair and wrapped his arm around you. At once, Finn stood up, ready to intervene, but you shook your head at him, not wanting him or Rey involved in whatever this show of testosterone this was. 

“Ah, didn’t know she was your girlfriend considering the way she’s been flirting -” Vic started to say, but you cut him off. 

“Excuse me? If I was flirting with you -”

“Come on, we’re going.” Ben said, tightening his grip around you and tugging you along with him as he headed to the entrance of the bar. 

You thought about struggling. You thought about turning and screaming at him, and you thought about getting out of his arm, running back to the table, and planting one on Vic’s lips right then and there because it was clear how much that would piss Ben off. But you did none of those things, waving Finn and Rey off once more as they both stood to follow you, and allowed yourself to be taken outside where the two of you were alone. 

And then you turned around and let him have it. “What the hell, Solo?!” You yelled, shoving his arm off of you. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, but now that Vic’s involved I am?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

To your indignation, he ignored every word you said to him. “What the hell were you doing hanging out with him?! He’s bad news.” Ben said, sounding every bit as furious as you did. 

Which made no sense. “Bad news?” You let out a laugh lacking humor. “Guess he was fooling me, because other than Finn and Poe, he’s the only guy that’s been even somewhat nice to me.” You took a step towards him, invading his personal space. “He doesn’t treat me like a caveman dragging me around everywhere. He doesn’t avoid me. He doesn’t act like I have the plague after I kiss him!” You yelled, punctuating each sentence with a poke to his heaving chest. 

If you hadn’t been staring into his eyes with such intensity you would have missed it. The flash of pain that was gone within a blink of his eyes and replaced with that fiery fury. “You’ve kissed him?” He hissed. 

Out of all the things you had said, that was what he had picked up on? You weren’t sure whether you wanted to cry, laugh, scream or a combination of all three. “No, you asshole! I haven’t kissed anyone or anything since your stupid lips!” 

He looked relieved. 

And it just riled you up more. “You know what? Maybe I should give it a shot. He’s got some nice, kissable lips, might even be a good lay too -”

The breath left your lungs in a whoosh as you found yourself pinned between the cold stone of the building and Ben’s blistering, towering body. Shocked by the sudden movement, you looked up at him, but found the breath gone from your lungs once more. You had been trying to piss him off, make him as angry as you were, and there was no doubt he was from the absolute tension that lingered throughout his whole body. When you stared into his eyes though, you saw something you had never seen there. 

Fear. 

“Stay away from him. You’ll get hurt.” Ben said, his hands gripping your wrists in a tight grip as if waiting for you to haul off and run back in there to him. 

Which a part of you wanted to do, to piss him off, but the biggest part of you was more curious as to why he even cared. After all that talk about  the deal between the two of you being over, what should it matter to him if you got into a relationship that would end badly? “Quit bossing me around like you give a shit what happens to me.” You said, trying to sound as vicious as possible. 

Ben’s grip tightened on your wrist, his eyes tracing over all of the features on your face and leaving heat in their wake. “You think I don’t care about you? Every second of every day I’m fighting not to think about you.” He told you, equal amounts of anguish and anger in his voice. “What you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re at that stupid restaurant with the bad breadsticks that you inist are the best in town -”

“T-that’s because they are.” You stuttered, your mind not able to comprehend the rest of the words he was saying yet. 

“Don’t ever, think for one second, that I don’t care about you.” Ben said, giving your wrists one more squeeze, and then letting them go. 

You watched as he turned and took a step away from you. At that moment, you were stricken with the realization that this could be it. If you didn’t say something right this second, nothing might ever come of you and Ben. 

There was no way you could let that chance pass you by. 

“Then why are you pushing me away?!” You called out to him, making him freeze. “Ben, I . . .” You took a deep breath, forcing the terrifying words to leave your mouth. “I want to be with you. Not in a fake relationship, but a real one.” You said, wrapping your arms around yourself as you took a step forward. 

Ben didn’t move, and kept his gaze locked on the ground in front of him when he spoke. “You think that you want that -”

“No. You’re wrong. No matter how big of an asshole you’ve been . . .” You said, shaking your head. “I know it’s what I want. I thought it that night when we were looking for Chewy, and I knew it when I kissed you. I know you felt it too.” You insisted, even though you knew no such thing, not anymore at least, but you had to hope. “Stop fighting your feelings.” 

You felt the tension release somewhat as he turned to look at you, but his face was so, so insecure that it took your breath away. Even more so when his hand, with the most gentle touch, cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. You closed your eyes as you felt him draw closer, his forehead resting against yours, his lips so close you could almost taste them. “Why do you always push?” Ben said, but it sounded more like a plea than a question. 

His lips brushed yours, and you knew, without a doubt, you couldn’t do it. If you let him kiss you, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand firm on what you wanted, what you needed. Your hand rested against his chest, exerting enough pressure to stop him. “Don’t,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Don’t kiss me unless you’re willing to open up to me too.” You opened your eyes, gazing into his intense dark brown ones. “I can’t take it if you don’t.” 

Ben’s eyes closed, almost as if he couldn’t take the emotion in yours. You waited breathlessly for him to say something, do something, and finally he opened his mouth - 

Vic called your name from behind Ben, and your eyes flickered over his shoulder to see him, Rey and Finn a few feet behind, all watching the exchange. “Are you okay?” He asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t care. He just wanted to rile Ben up. 

It worked. As if that switch had been flipped, Ben took a step away from you, turning around to glare at Vic, hiding your body with his own. “She’s fine.” He answered for you. “Now get out of here.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Vic snapped, moving so that he could look at you. “You all right, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine,” You answered, annoyed at him for interrupting and annoyed at Ben for letting Vic get to him. “I’m ready to go.” You called to Rey and Finn who nodded and went back inside to get your stuff. 

“Do you need a ride to your place?” Vic asked, and before you could say no, Ben answered for you. 

“I’m sure she can get home fine.” Ben hissed, moving to step between the two of you again. 

Vic smirked, taking a step even closer and holding his hand out to you. “He sure is possessive of you isn’t he? I promise if you stick with me, you won’t have to deal with that.” 

Ben stepped forward and good God was he menacing, towering over Vic, who was not short either. Everything about him in that moment screamed dangerous, and you found yourself wanting to take a step back yourself. “If you try to touch her again, you’re going to regret it.” Ben growled, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Ben!” You said, shocked by how angry he was getting when Vic was clearly trying to irritate him for God knows what reason. 

“What are you going to do about it, Solo? Wimp out like last time?” He glanced at you, and then looked back at Ben. “Does she even -”

It happened so fast you almost missed it. One minute Vic was taunting him, the next he was on the ground, clutching his nose, blood hitting the concrete beneath him. “Ben! What the hell?!” You gasped as soon as you realized what he had done, hurrying around him to Vic to check and see if he was okay. “Are you okay?” You asked him, trying to see how bad he was hurt. 

Vic nodded, glaring up at Ben, but didn’t say anything else. 

Biting your lip, you looked up at Ben who was still staring at Vic with poorly concealed fury. “You need to get out of here.” You told him. 

That’s when Ben turned his attention to you, disbelief on his face. “What?” 

Did you want him to go? No, you didn’t, but you couldn’t ignore what he had done. He needed time to calm down, and he wasn’t going to get that here, with Vic hanging around. You couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t goad him into another fight, and that was the last thing that needed to happen right now. “Go, Ben.” You insisted. “Get your head on straight.” You said, the words having more meaning than one. 

You couldn’t miss the flash of hurt that crossed his face, but then it was replaced by something almost worse. He almost seemed . . . resigned. Like he had expected you to order him away, and he wasn’t surprised that you had finally done it. Your brow furrowed, and you started to say something else, but before you could, he had turned and walked away, his hands clenched into fists at his side. 

As soon as he was gone, you turned to look at Vic who was staring after him with a clenched jaw. “Listen, I’m sorry about him, he’s -”

“He’s a dick,” Vic spat, moving away from you and standing up, “and if he’s your boyfriend, you don’t have a fucking idea what kind of person that he is.” 

Your eyes widened at the venom in his tone, and you watched as he stomped away as well, so distracted by his words that you didn’t even notice Finn and Rey coming up behind you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Finn asked, rubbing your back with his warm hand. 

Sighing, you let yourself lean against his shoulder while Rey took your hand. “Not even remotely.” You admitted. “Can we just go back to my place and watch the Office like you guys suggested, and I can pretend I’m crushing on a Jim Halpert instead of a hot head who punched someone and won’t let me in?” 

Rey squeezed your hand with a reassuring smile. “You’re on.”

[bular]

Welcome to Live Commentary

I had no one to talk to while watching the movie and I hate being alone with my thoughts so I wrote everything down in my notes app. It's not coherent! Enjoy!

Aw yeah 1.5 seconds of Bular that is all I needed! Might as well stop now I've seen my boy I'm satisfied.

Why is there a nearly 4 minute recap as if I haven't watched the show at least 50 times. I should be the one giving the recap.

The beginning felt a bit forced to me but maybe that's just me? Like they just tried to squeeze too many things into a small timeframe without any buildup, it just didn't really work. Congrats on the engagement! This is my OTP so I'm very happy! But it came out of nowhere.

Nari in Douxies body is so wrong and I love it and hate it at the same time (positive)

Eli is BIG. I knew he was gonna be tall but I was not prepared for that chiseled face. Or the fact that he stepped off the ship without glasses? I wear glasses and I would not choose to step off a spaceship blind.

OkAY who had mpreg on their bingo card?

AAARRRGGHH actually said a full sentence 🥺 there is no heterosexual explanation for this scene and I'm here for it

Arcadia being the center of the universe really does make a lot of sense. I hate how much sense it makes. Despise it.

Strickler in a Christmas sweater is something i didn't know I needed. Jim's jacket too but that's just adorable, Jim's adorable. Oh sweet baby you're about to get fucked over so bad.

Love seeing Barbara actively participating in battle too. Good for her! Power family!!

Where are the kids tho? Is NotEnrique babysitting? Either that or they hired the girl from the Incredibles movie.

Nomura is so talented I love seeing her fighting on the good side. I can't explain it but I love digitigrade legs they're just so pretty?? Aesthetically pleasing??? Fuck yeah, legg! I could watch Nomura run around and be badass all day.

WAIT NO OH SHIT HOW DARE YOU FUCK

STRICKLER DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE NOT YOU TOO THAT'S TOO FUCKING RUDE DON'T DO THIS TO ME

THERE'S NO WAY HE'S DEAD RIGHT WE SAW NO BODY

Barbara does not deserve this I refuse to accept it. He's fine he'll be back they wouldn't kill two Changelings at once. Also Nomura is with Draal now I take no criticism.

So my favorite characters were Bular, Draal, Gunmar and Angor. And before this movie I always half-joked that everyone I love dies, how I still like Strickler and Nomura but apart from them all of my faves were killed in the very order of favoritism. AND NOW LOOK AT THIS. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I LOVE A CHARACTER. MY LOVE IS TOXIC.

OKAY I LOVE GUN RO- WAIT NO I DON'T LOVE HIM FUCK ABORT ABORT

It's great tho omg

I didn't realize it was Gun Robot when I saw it in the trailer this is amazing

Okay but imagine you're chilling in your trollmarket minding your own business when some misfit group of strangers waltzes in, steals your favorite shiny and celebrates your death before running off

"I AM GUN ROBOT" IS THE HORN LMAOOO

Nana better show up at some point to reunite with her boytoy, I'll cancel this entire franchise otherwise

Something bad is going to happen to Toby isn't it. He's getting too much screentime

Jim's hand got DEEP FRIED

ARCHIE NO

We can play Scrabble okay if they don't free them (which they must) I want an after credits scene of them playing scrabble

Douxie and Nari's bond 🥺🥺🥺

Nari pls just say what you fuckin mean the world is ending

Oh god is she going to remember killing Nomura oh nooo

Claire don't make the portal you will die again. Your hair gon be white all over

EVERYONE AVOIDING THE SCHOOL JUST RIGHT THERE LMAO RIP

I love how Darci is just with the school bus. Civilian girlfriend. But also love how the world is ending and Coach is like "fuck that I'm gonna teach these kids"

Does he know his son is pregnant

"Going back to the city where it's safe" buddy have you been to that city

Whatever happens, Nari has the coolest looking titan. Giant four legged gremlin. I'd adopt him.

WAIT SHE CAN FEEL THE PAIN?

Me: oh i love that titan

The titan 5 seconds later:

Did Nari just fucking die what the FUCK

Oh of COURSE the pages are stuck together RIGHT THERE

Seriously tho how do you not notice an entire nougat nummy in a book

Wait so Arcadia has another heartstone? Or OH SO IT'S ALIVE. OKAY GREAT. GUNMAR COULDN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT HUH

Love how the Heartstone has been dormant/dead for months and apparently heard Blinky say it's alive and decided to wake up RIGHT THEN

Finally they're evacuating the city. This is like, the third apocalypse there. About time.

Okay so you can't pull Excalibur from the rock, but you CAN carve out the stone. Couldn't you just carve it off the sword as close as possible and like. Use that? Just swing the whole damn rock around?

God i can NOT get over Steve's pants. I mean I read a spoiler he was gonna be pregnant but I thought it was a prank or shitpost. I did not see this coming and I am never going to be over it. I love how he and Aja just roll with it and nobody else even cares. They've seen weirder stuff. So he's pregnant now. Whatever.

Jim's hand is bandaged and his ribs still hurt. I love that they're actually consistent with his injuries. I mean sucks for him but hell yeah for hero that doesn't always win!

Okayyy here comes the heartstone. Why not!

IS HE IN LABOR

So if you kiss an Akiridion 7 times you will have 3-5 babies in a few hours. How are they not overpopulated?? Also Aja couldn't have WARNED STEVE BEFOREHAND?

Eli is so supportive omfg

So uh where are the babies gonna come out of? I'm not into mpreg how does this usually work

OH STEVE THANKS FOR ASKING MY QUESTION

Oh good thing he happens to have 8 friends still alive. Otherwise this would've never worked. Nomura had to die otherwise there would've been 10 of them.

Why is everyone bowing to Jim? Did they rehearse this?

Stuart if you hadn't taken a bathroom break you would've thrown off the math and doomed the world. That was a poop of fate my man

Ahhh the signature quote. Where did Douxie and the Akiridions learn it? Did they rehearse this too? It's really cliché but I do like it tbh

If Strickler were dead we'd see more Barbara right?

WOOO BLINKY DRIVING

Ah Jim just used she/her for Bellroc! Finally we're learning some pronouns. I've been wondering this whole time.

MY VIRGIN EYES. WHAT IS GOING O N

How are they not dying with all this lava?

She really just yeeted Varvatos

Did Claire just tell AAARRRGGHH to jump off the titan and he did it without question

I want to say I like Stuart and want him to have more screentime, but I won't say it because I don't want him to die

Jim's poor ribs

Toby can drive yoooo

Tobyyy you're scaring meeeee

So did they really need the different stone or was the amulet just waiting for Jim to choose death over giving up

I saw the armor before but it looks VERY COOL

Also I didn't mention this before but I love that they cut Merlin's name from the incantation. Good for them.

Toby you lost your helmet noooo

For real tho I'm terrified for Toby rn. I saw a comment somewhere earlier that just said "Toby no" with no context and I am AFRAID

So do Bellroc's eyes work after all? I thought she was blinded back in Wizards in the past.

DID SHE JUST FUCKING STAB MY BOY

TOBY YOU SHOULD NOT BE THERE GET OUT THE TRUCK

Bellroc maybe screaming "i'm powerless" in front of your enemy isn't the best idea

She sploosh

DID JIM SURVIVE THAT FALL AND ALSO IS THE TACO TRUCK OKAY

How is he lifting Claire like that buddy you have bruised ribs and just got stabbed

ELI HI CAN WE SEE THE KIDS

SEVEN KIDS! AND ELI JR I LOVE IT

This show really loves to give people more than the recommended amount of babies with no warning huh

She immediately knows which one is Eli Jr 🥺 okay listen I'm not the biggest fan of comic relief sideplot surprise babies, but I have to admit they're cute. Cute couple. Throuple. Eli is in on this. He even has a Junior.

I TOLD YOU WHERE'S THE DAMN TACO TRUCK NANA WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU AND NEITHER WILL I

Oh yea he better fuckin be alive I will commit murder

HE BETTER FUCKIN BE ALIVE BITCH

FUCK YOU

THAT'S A WHOLE ASS CHILD HE ISN'T ALLOWED TO DIE IT'S ILLEGAL

JIM IS GONNA LOOK DOWN AT THE GREEN GLOWING BITCH AAARRRGGHH CONVENIENTLY THREW THERE AND SEE HIM ALIVE OR SOMETHING

YEAH USE THE SWORD TO UNDEAD HIM! THAT'S HOW YOU USE SWORDS!

Unbecoming Part 2

So is Jim just gonna Groundhog Day it until everyone is fine? There's only 13 minutes left we're gonna need a bigger movie

Also I screamed so much about everyone's death and now everyone reading this after they already saw the whole thing is gonna shame me for clowning huh

The scene where Blinky is giving his goodbye speech, there are no babies and Steve has a round belly? Did he reabsorb them?? I mean I know Jim is about to un-birth them but he hasn't started yet

JUST HOW FAR BACK IS HE PLANNING TO GO

WAIT HOLD UP EXCUSE ME WHAT

Oh they did NOT just do that. I though he was just gonna go back to like, the start of the movie maybe. Not all the way

Imagine being in your early twenties with as much trauma as this kid has and having to pretend you're 16 again

Somewhere Unkar is complaining because "oh sure NOW it's a good idea"

I know Jim is wondering where Toby is because he was there before. But before, he made an entire meatloaf AND did his homework before leaving the house, so honey maybe wait a minute

For a second I thought Toby wasn't gonna be there and Jim would return to the right time. But there he is!

Alright so they're in school now, did they take the canal and just didn't mention the amulet on screen or did they pass it as if the Unbecoming episode hadn't been that traumatizing? Jim you know what happens when you ignore it

Jim maybe you're being too obvious here lmao

Soooo. Anyway. These whole past years I've rewatched this show over and over and over again are cancelled now?

OKAY AT LEAST WE SAW NANA FOR A SPLIT SECOND THAT'S IRONIC TIMING

So we get the quote again. And Trollhunter Tobias is nice. Cool. Cool AU I mean, but I don't know. I don't knowwww. I've been way too invested in everything to just accept that it never happened?? So uh. Hm. How about this.

Strickler survived because fuck you, and Toby also survived and just has scars now. Maybe a wheelchair but he's fine, also he can use the Warhammer for super speed and make it awesome once he's used to it. Archie and Charlie get freed once they rebuild the bridge (and they were playing scrabble to pass the time). Nomura is still dead because she died on screen and I can't really deny that but she's with Draal so it's okay. Everyone is traumatized but they'll be fine. NotEnrique is still babysitting 500 babies and Steve is about to bring 7 more.

In summary, I reject Groundhog Day ending but everything else was great, as long as it actually happened. It was a good movie. But you can't just cancel years of passion. Having the prospect of a million "canon AUs" sounds great for writing but at the same time nooo you can't do that he didn't have to go back THAT far HHHHH

I liked the movie. It was a great watch and a satisfying end to a franchise, but I gotta say I do not fancy the ending of it so I will from now on be in denial. I honestly feel kind of betrayed that this show was my whole life for so long, I learned every smallest fact, and they basically deleted it from existence. I know what they were going for, I think, but no thank you I will be going with my own opinion. Still gonna rewatch it a few dozen times though ✌🏻

And that concludes my live commentary that was supposed to be a small handful of notes. Feel free to shame me for my opinions. See ya!

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics with everyone’s favorite trope - sharing a bed! We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Just Like Live Wires | Explicit | 5427 words

Harry climbs into Louis' bed when he's cold. Louis pines.

2) Been Gone Way Too Long | Explicit | 8836 words

“This can’t be happening,” Louis says, banging his hand against the window. “This seriously can’t be happening right now.”

Things like this only happen in the movies. Things like this don’t happen in real life. There’s no way that he’s seriously been snowed in. There’s no way that the heating is broken. There’s no way that it’s going to take upwards of twenty-four hours and probably a lot longer for the storm to break and someone to come and rescue them.

“Just sit down, Louis,” Harry sighs from somewhere behind him. He sounds miserable, like he’s already feeling the cold.

Louis whirls around and points a finger at him. “Did you plan this?” he demands a little hysterically. He regrets the question as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but he thinks he’s got a valid point. It’s not like this storm just came out of nowhere - it has to have been on the news for a couple of days, at least. Plenty of time for Harry to have canceled this excursion.

3) I'm Trying Not To Make A Sound | Explicit | 10452 words

Louis thinks he could die right there. He can’t feel anything but the tingling sensation all over his skin. He’s throwing away all his past thoughts on trying to be straight and denying his reactions towards other men, he just wants more of this numbing feeling. Everything else is a long lost memory, can’t think of anything else besides, wow, this feels incredible.

4) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

5) Cuffed | Not Rated | 15254 words

What would you do if you were handcuffed to your enemy for 48 hours?

6) Up For It | Explicit | 18223 words

The one where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

7) Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) | Not Rated | 18417 words | Sequel

Note: This fic has no smut, but it has omega Louis. The sequel has smut.

The one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

8) The Aurora Zone | Explicit | 19633 words

The one where Harry is busy crossing off his bucket list while Louis is busy falling for the guy he's supposed to hate.

9) I Wanna Be More Than Friends | Not Rated | 20721 words

The one where Harry’s an alpha with no sense of smell, Louis’ an omega who isn’t allowed to scent his best friend, and that’s all they’ll ever be. Obviously.

10) Etched In Salt (Is A Cathedral Of The World) | Explicit | 24417 words

Note: This fic has BH mentions. It is also locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 25868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Always Come Back To You | Explicit | 28682 words

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

13) We’re Not Who We Used To Be | Explicit | 30611 words

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit.

14) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

15) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32584 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Playing To Win | Explicit | 36732 words

Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.

19) If I Stay | Mature | 37226 words

Harry and Louis agree to a temporary arrangement that Harry can't seem to walk away from no matter how many times he tries.

20) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

21) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

22) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

23) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

24) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

25) Swallow The Knife | Explicit | 76158 words

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

26) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

27) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

28) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Mature | 102528 words

Another roadtrip AU featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.