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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 3 years ago

Text

Revenge Of The Sith (Part 1)

Words: 8111

Warnings: language? typical Star Wars violence, the plot of ROTS (bc yes, that needs it's own warning)

Star Wars Masterlist Main Masterlist

(THIS IS X READER I PROMISE IF YOU WANT THE NONE X READER VERSION THEN GO TO @imnotobsessedwfictionalcharacters)

So I have like...a million OC's. One of which I have with Anakin Skywalker. Recently (like a few months ago) I decided to rewrite Revenge of the Sith, but instead of Padme, it's my OC and it becomes an AU near the end bc Obi Wan is able to pull Anakin back to the light. So, I decided to rewrite it (AGAIN) to make it x reader. So yeah, here it is, I hope you enjoy

(Next Part)

*Que the Main Theme*

War! The Republic is crumbling under attacks by the ruthless Sith Lord, Count Dooku. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere. In a stunning move, the fiendish droid leader, General Grievous, has swept into the Republic capital and kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine, leader of the Galactic Senate.

As the Separatist Droid Army attempts to flee the besieged capital with their valuable hostage, two Jedi Knights lead a desperate mission to rescue the captive Chancellor....

Anakin sighed as he stared at the holophoto of Y/N. He missed her deeply. It had been about 6 months since he had last talked to her. He wished to go back to Coruscant. Go back and hold her in his arms again. He loved her more than anything and wanted nothing more than to see her. He clicked a button and his smile grew slightly more as it was a photo of her and Ahsoka. It was slightly old, which he could tell by what Ahsoka was wearing. He hated that outfit of hers. He felt like it made her something she wasn’t and left her too open to attacks.

He accidentally pressed something and a new image appeared. This one was not long after he and Y/N had married. It was even certain it may have been the same week. Some of her hair was pulled back into twin buns as the rest was down straight. The side of her eyes were crinkled and her mouth opened in a smile. She was midlaugh. Her hand though. Her hand was out reaching to him. He moved his hand out, trying to grab hers.

He jumped when he heard the hiss of the door opening. Quickly, he went and turned the holograms off and turned around. His eyes meeting the eyes of his former Masters. He gave Obi Wan the typical smile he had the past 3 years. It was different from the one he used to, but neither of them acknowledged it. Neither wanted to delve into that topic as both knew one, if not both, of them would end up saying things that they never did, and never dared, to say to the other.

Obi Wan coughed, “We’re as close to Grievous’s ship as anyone wants to get. They’re having us go and deploy our starfighters.”

Anakin nodded, “Of course Master.”

Obi Wan gave him a look that Anakin knew. Obi Wan was never a huge fan of Anakin calling him master. Especially considering his past. And now that Anakin was no longer his Padawan, he felt a lesser need for him to be called that by Anakin.

But neither said a word as he left the room. Obi Wan stayed for a moment and surveyed the room. He knew why Anakin was here and why he was so quick in his movements. He just never understood why he was never told. Sure, it was against the code, but Anakin had never let it get in the way of being a Jedi. And Obi Wan respected him for that. For he knew that if he and Satine had continued their secret love affair, they wouldn’t have been able to hide it as well as the two of them could. Even if they could possibly hide it better.

Away on Coruscant, Y/N stood on her balcony. A hand was over her mouth and under her nose. Another on her stomach. She stared out into the busy streets of the city. In the distance she could see the Jedi Temple. She sighed and pushed her hair away from her face. She wasn’t sure how she was to tell Anakin. Never had they had a conversation about this before. Mostly because she was pretty sure they both thought it would never happen. But of course with their luck it had to. And it had to happen during a war and at a high point with neither side being at a lead. But she had a bad feeling that something bad was about to happen and somehow Anakin was going to get mixed into it all.

She looked down at the hand on her stomach. She felt bad. But this was the first time since before she found out that they had talked! Nearly 6 months had passed! Although it was getting harder, she had been clever enough to make sure no news outlets knew. Maker knows what they would say.

‘Former Deadly Assassin, Hitwoman, and Bounty Hunter Y/N Y/L/N Pregnant! Theories On Who The Father Is On Page 7!’

She rolled her eyes as she thought of one of the possible titles. She found it stupid. Why couldn’t people just simply ignore these things? She shook her head as she walked back into her living room. She sighed, she mostly didn’t want any news to pick up on it for the fear that what if Anakin found out through that and not through her. She would feel horrible if that happened.

But she shook her head again and decided to distract herself. Afterall, this time next week she could easily be in Anakin’s arms again. Something she had missed immensely these past months.

Anakin flew through space, trying to get inside General Grievous’s ship. Obi Wan flew next to him. Clones were all around. And in this moment he wished that he had asked at least Jesse to stay with him instead of going with Ahsoka.

He looked down at the translator as he heard R2 beep. He nodded, “Lock onto him, R2.” His droid beeped again, “Master, General Grievous’s ship is directly ahead, the one crawling with Vulture Droids.” Maker did he hate Vulture Droids. Not because they were difficult. No. It was because they were annoying.

“Oh, I see it. Oh, this is going to be easy.”

Anakin wasn’t sure if he was serious or sarcastic, but he didn’t care much as he just wanted to get this over with. He missed sleeping in a warm bed. And he especially missed holding Y/N in his arms.

He smirked as he noticed the clones coming up behind them. And for some reason, he just said the first thing that came to his mind. “This is where the fun begins.”

He practically felt the eyeroll that was sure to have come from Obi Wan before he spoke, “Let them pass between us.”

They both began to fly and avoid getting hit. Unfortunately he couldn’t say the same for the Clones. Which is why when he heard that the vulture droids were all over Oddball, he wanted to help. He began to turn his fighter, “I’m going to go help them out.”

But he stopped when he heard Obi Wan, “No. No, they are doing their job so we can do ours.”

As much as he didn’t want to listen. He knew he had to. And he was thankful that he did as he saw the missiles coming towards them. “Missiles. Pull up.”

The missiles missed them, “They overshot us!”

Anakin shook his head, “They’re turning around.” Maker did he hate these types of missiles. He began to click some of his buttons and spoke to R2. “Surge all power units, R2. Stand by reverse thrusters.” He smiled as he felt himself spinning. This was his favorite thing to do. Reckless things that could get him in a lot of trouble if they went wrong. But, when he heard the two missiles crashing into one another he gave a small chuckle, “We got ‘em R2.”

He began to fly in order to find Obi Wan. And of course when he did, Obi Wan happened to be in trouble.

“I’m hit. Anakin?”

He rolled his eyes slightly. He always was saving him. “I see them. Buzz Droids.” They were always annoying. Taking apart your ship. He saw the red top of R4 and he grimaced. That poor droid.

“They’re shutting down all the controls.”

Anakin looked quickly, “Move to the right so I can get a clear shot at them.”

Obi Wan stopped him, “The mission. Get to the command ship. Get the Chancellor. I’m running out of tricks here.” Anakin ignored Obi Wan. There was no he was going to leave him there. He hit a few droids and held back a laugh as he heard Obi Wan groan and say “Oh for the love of--!” They moved around more and Obi Wan continued with, “Hold your fire! You’re not helping here.”

Anakin agreed, “I agree. Bad idea.”

“I can’t see a thing. My cockpit’s fogging.” Anakin looked and moved his fighter closer, “There all over me. Anakin!”

He saw an opening, but it would only be plausible if Obi Wan moved to the right. “Move to the right.”

And he should’ve known what the response would be before he said his statement. “Hold on, Anakin. You’re going to get us both killed. Get out of here. There’s nothing more you can do.”

Anakin shook his head, “I’m not leaving without you master.” One of the Buzz Droids jumped onto his ship next to R2. “Get him, R2.” As R2 was busy electrifying the droid, he remembered he needed to remind his droid to not get killed in a subtle way. “Watch out.”

“R2, hit the Buzz Droid’s center eye.”

When R2 did it, Anakin gave him a small smile, “Yeah, you got him!”

“Gret, R2.” And even though he was hiding it, Anakin could hear the proudness in Obi Wan’s voice. Which made him happy.

The two of them continued forward and he saw that Grievous’s ship was ahead and decided to tell Obi Wan. “The general’s command ship is dead ahead.”

R2 let out a scream and Obi Wan’s response was basically what his droid had just said. “Well, have you noticed the shields are still up?!”

All that ran through his mind was ‘shit’. “Sorry, Master.” He flipped his fighter over Obi Wan and shot the shields down.

But of course with their luck there was an emergency door that was shutting. And in all honesty, he fully agreed with Obi Wan’s statement, but he really didn’t care as whenever this happened, they always ended up alive and with a new memory. “Oh I have a bad feeling about this.”

The two of them barely made it in. Of course Obi Wan took a page out of Anakin’s book and leapt out of his fighter while Anakin took a page out of Obi Wan’s and waited for him to slow some before unbuckling and carefully leaping out. He quickly joined Obi Wan in defending themselves against the Battle Droids. And soon found them back to back.

“R2! Locate the Chancellor.” R2 wheeled away as the two Jedi quickly finished the Droids off. Once so, they walked over to the R2 unit, who was now showing the location of the Chancellor’s signal. “The Chancellor’s signal is coming from right there-” Obi Wan pointed to where the signal was, “The observation platform at the top of that spire.”

Anakin looked around, “I sense Count Dooku.”

Obi Wan joined him, “I sense a trap.”

Anakin looked over at Obi Wan, “Next move?”

Obi Wan looked over with a smile, “Spring the trap.”

R2 began to whistle at them and the two Jedi turned to him. “R2, go back. I need you to stay with the ship.” Anakin knew his droid wouldn’t like it, but he was their best chance of getting off of the ship alive if anything bad happened.

“Here,” Obi Wan took his communicator out of his pocket, “Take this and wait for orders.” He tossed the communicator to R2 and they walked away.

They walked down the hall and both were surprised to see Shaak Ti sitting in front of Grievous. Neither of them had known she had been taken off of Kamino. “Shaak Ti.”

She slowly lifted her head as the two of them got closer, “I’m sorry, Master Kenobi. I failed.”

“Ah. General Kenobi. We’ve been waiting for you.” Anakin looked Grievous up and down. He was much...shorter than how Snips had described him. “Stinking Jedi.”

Both Jedi quickly ignited their sabers as Grievous struck one of his into Shaak Ti. Killing her. But as they heard the ‘Roger’ coming from around, they knew it was too risky to use them. At least in that way.

“That was a bad-”

“Mistake.”

They both held back a smirk after Obi Wan finished Anakin’s sentence. They both knew that at some point, years from now, they were going to make fun of how Grievous coughed every-other-sentence, but now was not the time. “A tragic ending of a gallant warrior, no doubt.”

Anakin lightly rubbed the side of his chin with his finger. He knew that it would probably get shot down, but he had to try. “Hmm. Rescue, Anakin. Not mayham.”

“I look forward to adding your lightsabers to my collection.”

Then he moved his finger around his lips and lightly flicked his nose. “No, no, no, no.”

Anakin was getting slightly annoyed and looked away from Obi Wan. “This is no time to argue, Master.”

“Might I recommend-”

Obi Wan twisted his mustache and Anakin knew it would be too risky, “Far too many of them for that.”

Obi Wan hummed as Anakin lightly scratched his eyebrow and he and Obi Wan finally agreed. “Oh, yes. All right.” They both relit their lightsabers and turned to cut a circle below them. They both fell into the water with a splash. They placed their lightsabers away as they began to walk through the, most likely, electrical water. “The slightest charge will blast us into oblivion.”

And then Anakin pointed out the obvious, “That’s why they’ve stopped shooting.”

“Thank you General Obvious.”

Anakin rolled his eyes as they continued to walk through the water. “Well, we’re safe for the time being.”

Obi Wan held back a laugh, “Your idea of safe is not the same as mine.”

“Well, when you work with the 501st, your perceptions change.”

“Huh, and I wonder who made the 501st be the way they are.”

“And I wonder who made their General the way he is? Perhaps it was his Master who while obeying the rules also breaks all the rules at the same time.”

“Now is not the time for teasing, Anakin.”

Anakin just shrugged, “You started it, Master. You started it.”

At one point some B2 droids began to follow them, and as they were followed, the water began to go higher and they both knew that they were going to need to get out. Anakin found a hatch and went to open it. He laughed. It was too easy. They both climbed out and began to climb up the wall of what appeared to be a service vent. Anakin quickly found another way out when he saw the control panel on the side. He pressed a button and the small, circular door opened. He and Obi Wan crawled through the small space as quickly as possible. The second he saw the button to open the other door at the end, he was quick to press it and get out. If he hadn't grabbed onto the wall, he would have fallen, but that was not something he would admit to Obi Wan. And speaking of Obi Wan. Once he was out as well, Anakin quickly closed the door and used his saber to seal it shut.

“The blast will break the hull. This line’s pressurized.”

Obi Wan was skeptical. “Anakin, you still have much to learn. That’ll never hold.” Anakin gave him an ‘are you sure about that?’ look. And the minute that they heard the blast, all that happened was the wall was pushed out some. But it still held. Anakin gave Obi Wan an ‘I told you so’ look and Obi Wan gave him an ‘okay then’ look and gesture. “All right. I still have much to learn. Let’s go.”

They walked down the halls of the ship that had a similar build as the Republic ships. When they neared the elevators, Anakin grabbed his communicator and pressed the button that went to Obi Wan’s communicator that was on R2. “R2, where are they holding the Chancellor?” They heard his beeps of replies but the communicator didn’t translate it to text. “No text?” He hit it against his hand but still only heard R2’s beeps, “It’s broken.” He looked at Obi Wan, deciding to play with him some, “Can you understand him?”

And he assumed that Obi Wan was in the mood to be around some too as he responded, “I’m not a protocol droid.”

He nodded, “I’m pretty sure that beep,” And he somehow imitated a beep, “Is ‘down’.”

Obi Wan tilted his head up, “I sense Count Dooku is above us.”

Anakin held back a laugh as he nodded, “Oh, yes, yes, yes. You’re right. Beep,” And somehow again imitated the beep, “Is ‘up’,” Obi Wan nodded and moved slightly so, just to tease him, Anakin added, “I think.” But once he received the ‘really’ look from Obi Wan he just nodded. “Anyway, I agree. Up it is.”

And as soon as their backs were turned, Destroyers appeared. He turned around to see them, telling Obi Wan too. “Destroyers.”

They both pulled out their lightsabers and Obi Wan walked back slightly to press the elevator button. “Never an elevator when you need one.”

Eventually the elevator doors opened and the two walked into the elevator backwards. After it began to go up and they thought they were safe, they both sighed as they heard the Battle Droid behind them. “Drop your weapons.” They gave each other a ‘not these guys again’ look and took out their lightsabers and quickly dealt with them. Anakin didn’t see Obi Wan’s smirk or else he would’ve expected the next word from his old Master’s mouth. “Roger.”

Anakin internally laughed and repeated him, “Roger.” It was funny as the two of them did this all the time before the Clone War and during the beginning of them. But as they both turned to face the elevator doors, they let out small chuckles.

Of course nothing was ever easy with them as they felt a jerk and the elevator stopped. Obi Wan looked at Anakin, who had also turned to look at Obi Wan. “Did you press the button?”

“No, did you?”

“No.”

Anakin smirked, “Well, not to worry Master. We simply take another elevator.” Anakin pressed the button for the elevator doors to reopen. But of course when they did, Battle Droids were waiting for them. Anakin groaned as he said, “Bad idea.” And pressed the button to close the doors again. Once they were, Anakin looked up at the ceiling, “Well, there’s more than one way out of here.”

He assumed Obi Wan didn’t see him or just didn’t want to get upset as he only said, “We don’t want to get out. We want to get out.” He brought the communicator up, “R2, activate elevator 31174.” After a moment when R2 didn’t answer he spoke again, “Come in, R2.” Once again there was nothing “R2, do you copy?” And at this point Obi Wan was getting impatient, “R2, activate the elevator number, 31174.” He sighed, “Activate the elevator 31174. R2 we--” He stopped mid-sentence and fell back slightly as the ceiling of the elevator fell. And as Anakin jumped up, Obi Wan rolled his eyes and sighed, “Always on the move.” He rolled his eyes again and back to the comlink. “R2, switch on the comlink. R2, can you hear me? R2?” After a moment he felt himself jolting down and it took him a few moments to gather his composure as he stood up. But immediately he realized they were going in the wrong direction. “Stop.” He brought the comlink to his lips, “Stop. R2, we need to be going up. R2, do you copy?” After a few more moments of silence, he spoke again, “R2, do you hear me? We need to be going up, not down.” And it seemed as if the droid heard him as he was jolted again and the Elevator quickly went up. He got up just as fast and spoke into the comlink again, “Now, that’s better.” Obi Wan quickly turned around and ignited his lightsaber when he heard a thump from behind him. That was, until he realized that it was just Anakin, “Oh, it’s you.”

“What was that all about?”

For a quick second he thought about making a joke, but decided against it as he could tell Anakin was already in an annoyed mood. “Well, R2 has been-”

“Uh, no loose wire jokes.”

Obi Wan faked offense, “Did I say anything?”

“He’s trying.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Once their banter ended, the doors opened and they walked out into a conference-like room. Chancellor Palpatine was up front, cuffed to the seat he was in. They walked down the steps and to him.

Obi Wan was cordial and bent down slightly, “Chancellor.”

Anakin didn’t do the same and so he stayed standing straight. “Are you alright?”

“Count Dooku.” Both turned around as in fact saw Dooku and two B2 droids walking in.

Obi Wan, still upset over Anakin ignoring him back on Geonosis and effectively getting his arm cut off, only said one thing to Anakin. “This time we will do it together.”

Anakin, who really didn’t want to lose his other arm, walked around Obi Wan and agreed. “I was about to say that.”

Anakin held back a smirk as Dooku flipped down to them and grabbed his lightsaber. That was one of the exact things that Obi Wan would typically laugh and call ‘flashy’. “Get help. You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith lord.”

Now was when Anakin smirked and Obi Wan turned to Palpatine and gave him an amused smile, “Chancellor Palpatine, Sith lords are our speciality.”

Both shrugged off their cloaks (and Anakin wouldn’t admit it but he only did it because Obi Wan did) and grabbed their lightsabers. “Your swords, please.” Dooku walked closer to them. “We don’t want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor.”

Anakin and Obi Wan, with Obi Wan leading, walked over to Dooku, “You won’t get away this time, Dooku.” Anakin held back a laugh at Obi Wan’s statement. Every time they went against Dooku, or knew they were going to, he said it.

Obi Wan ignited his lightsaber and Anakin was quick to follow. They waited till Dooku did the same to start attacking him. It was two against one. One would think it would be easy. But no. It wasn’t. Nothing ever was with Dooku.

“I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Anakin held back a smirk. “MY powers have doubled since the last time we met, Count.”

“Good.” Dooku gave a sinister smile, “Twice the pride, double the fall.”

They both back to attack him again. And when Dooku pushed Obi Wan away, Anakin got pissed. Only he was able to randomly push Obi Wan away with the Force in a fight. Anakin continued to fight him alone, until Obi Wan came up from behind and went to attack Dooku. This time Anakin got pushed back and Obi Wan was lifted into the air, feeling as if he was being choked. Just before he was flung to the other side. His back collided with a rail and he fell to the ground. Unconscious. Just as Anakin had thought before, only he could randomly do things like that to Obi Wan. But then he was very angry when he saw Dooku pull the platform down, causing it to land on Obi Wan. But he also noticed that Dooku allowed himself to be distracted, so Anakin went and kicked him off the side of the railing they were at. He was quick to jump down with him and continue the fight

At one point, Anakin was using his strength in order to keep Dooku’s saber from colliding into him. “I sense great fear in you, Skywalker.” Anakin gave Dooku an angry look. What did he know about Anakin’s feelings? And what did Anakin have to fear for? Nothing. He didn’t fear anything at this point. “You have hate. You have anger. But you don’t use them.”

Anakin was having enough, careful was he, as he allowed his tiny bit of anger fuel him. He wanted this fight over. And soon. He fiercely wanted to make sure Obi Wan was safe. And he wanted to go back home to Y/N. He pushed Dooku back and began to attack him. He was more aggressive with his blows this time. He was quick as he got Dooku practically tied up, and as a sort of payback for cutting off his right arm, Anakin chopped off both of Dooku’s hands. He wouldn’t deny, Dooku’s reaction was kind of priceless. Anakin was quick to grab Dooku's saber as it flew in the air. Dooku fell to his knees and Anakin created an ‘x’ in front of Dooku’s head.

“Good, Anakin. Good.” He heard Palpatine say, almost amused and delighted. He glanced over to the Chancellor and then back to Dooku. “Kill him.” He saw as Dooku looked over to Palpatine in horror. And Anakin hated to admit it, but he understood why Dooku had the look he did. He understood it. “Kill him now.”

Dooku looked at Anakin. And for the first time, Anakin saw fear in his eyes. But Anakin was conflicted. Break the code and kill Dooku or stay true to the code and ignore the Chancellor by just arresting him. He knew that Dooki would go willingly this time. “I shouldn’t.”

“Do it.”

And he saw Dooku's face. It was one that you would make if you recognized something. But Anakin chose to ignore it. He chose to ignore his inner feelings and was quick as he used the two sabers and cut off Dooku’s head. He knew it would come to haunt him eventually, but he chose to leave it for a problem for future him.

“You did well, Anakin.” He slowly turned to Palpatine. “He was too dangerous to be kept alive.”

He walked over to the Chancellor and used the Force to unlock the cuffs. “Yes, but he was an unarmed prisoner. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s not the Jedi way.”

Plaptine stood, “It is only natural. He cut off your arm, and you wanted revenge.” Yes. He did. But revenge was not the Jedi way either. “It wasn’t the first time, Anakin.” He looked at him confused, “Remember what you told me about your mother and the Sand People?” Tusken Raiders, he mentally corrected him. But Anakin also heard their screams of agony in his head when the Chancellor mentioned them. “Now we must leave before more security droids arrive.” But instead of completely following Palpatine, Anakin quickly ran over to Obi Wan and began to get him out from under the platform. “Anakin, there's no time. We must get off this ship before it’s too late.”

Anakin flipped Obi Wan and did a quick check. He was alright, overall. He looked up at the Chancellor, “He seems to be all right.”

“Leave him, or we’ll never make it.”

Anakin ignored Palpatine. He'd rather not make it than leave Obi Wan to die alone. Especially when there was a chance he could save him. And he knew Obi Wan would do the same. “His fate will be the same as ours.” He lifted Obi Wan into his arms and carried him on his shoulders. They made it to the elevators and no matter what button they pressed, how hard, or how many times they did. Nothing happened. “R2,” He lifted the comlink to his mouth, “Activate elevator 3224.”

They jolted forward and grabbed onto the, now opened, elevator door. Anakin knew that the elevator wouldn’t be there and that they would have to run down the shaft. He just hoped that the ship wouldn’t go upright as they were doing this. Because that would be a catastrophe. As they were running, he felt himself begin to slip and tried not to make any noise as he felt the ship leveling out. As they slid down, he felt the Chancellor grab onto his leg. He was secretly happy it happened as then he was able to grab onto a wire and not worry about him.

Of course this had to be when Obi Wan awoke. And as he did, he gripped onto Anakin. Tightly. Slightly annoyed with his friend, Anakin spoke, “Easy. we’re in a bit of a situation here.”

“Did I miss something?”

Anakin resisted rolling his eyes. Always the clever one, Obi Wan was. “Just hold on.”

“What is that?”

Anakin looked up in fear as he heard the elevator coming down. He was quick to grab the comlink and talk to R2. “R2. R2, shut down the elevator.”

He knew it was too late. As did Obi Wan. “Too late. Jump!” He let go of the wire as Obi Wan let go of him. They both grabbed their graphing hooks and tossed them to hook onto a beam, the moment they did, they used the momentum and swung into the open elevator door. They all groaned as they got up from the ground. “Let’s see if we can find something in the hangar bay that’s still flyable.”

They all stood and Anakin brought the comlink back up, “R2, get down here.” When his droid didn’t answer, he sighed, “R2, do you copy?” Obi Wan gave Anakin a ‘see what I mean’ look when R2 didn’t respond. This time Anakin did roll his eyes and they began to walk down the hall. Of course the moment they did, shields were activated. Locking them there. “Ray shields.”

Obi Wan looked around, “What a minute. How did this happen? We’re smarter than this.”

Anakin agreed. Typically they wouldn’t allow themselves to do this. Not see where ray shields could come out. Or not even think about ray shields at all. But Anakin, still in a sour mood, replied, “Apparently not.” And for what seemed like the first time in his life, he suggested something that Obi Wan thought was crazy when he usually agreed with it. “I say patience.”

Obi Wan held back a laugh, “Patience?” He crossed his arms, basically telling Anakin to explain why he said that.

“Yes. R2 will be along in a few moments and then...he’ll release the ray shields.”

Obi Wan and Anakin both knew that he made it up on the spot. But before Obi Wan could argue, they heard the door open. And surprisingly, Anakin’s dramatically chaotic droid came screaming in. Anakin tried not to groan when R2 slammed into the wall. He knew that he was going to get an earful from the droid himself about this moment.

He turned to Obi Wan, “See? No problem.” And of course when he said that, a bunch of droids came out and Anakin tried not to say anything when one kicked R2.

Obi Wan looked at him, sort of amused but mostly annoyed, “Do you have a plan “B”?”

No. No he did not.

So now here they were walking into the control panel, face to face with Grievous again. “Ah, yes. The negotiator.” Anakin smirked as they walked past. “General Kenobi. We’ve been waiting for you.” A droid pushed past Obi Wan, “That wasn’t much of a rescue. And-” He stopped mid-sentence to cough and Anakin continued to hold back an amused face. Seriously. He had imagined this guy to be so much larger than he actually was. Snips said he was like 10 feet or something. He mentally laughed. Maybe it was because she was so short. “Anakin Skywalker. I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little...older.”

Okay. That did it. Anakin was annoyed by that. Everyone thought he would be older. No. He was 22...wait maybe 23 now...he really didn’t know what day it was, but anyways, he was 22 or 23 years old! Someone his age could do everything he has! You don’t have to be older for it. He gave a disgusted look for a moment as Grievous wheezed right in his face. But his amused and annoyed look came back almost immediately. “General Grievous.” He smirked, “You’re shorter than I expected.”

“Jedi scum.”

Obi Wan looked at him, knowing exactly why he said it. And exactly what he meant by it. “We have a job to do, Anakin. Try not to upset him.”

Anakin just shrugged and ignored Obi Wan’s comment. Mostly listening to R2’s beeping. Grievous held their sabers in his hands, “Your lightsabers will make a fine addition to my collection.”

“Not this time.” Anakin raised an eyebrow at Obi Wan’s comment, “And this time, you won’t escape.” And Obi Wan just jinxed it. Anakin just knew it. Grievous was going to escape. Again.

But, he also knew what Obi Wan was doing, so he signaled his droid. “R2.” His droid looked as if he was self-destructing, but Obi Wan and Anakin knew better. Obi Wan turned and called for his saber and he cut his cuffs off and did the same to Anakin’s. Once free, Anakin pulled his saber to him and ignited it as well.

He and Obi Wan attacked their droids around them. Of course since he was closest to the Chancellor, he made sure he was safe before heading back in to deal with Grievous. And of course, just as Anakin had suspected, Obi Wan jinxed them and Grievous got away by busting the window open.

They killed more droids as they and those from the Trade Federation ran out. Stopping once they heard a loud beeping. “All the escape pods have been launched.” Both knew it was Grievous’s work and that he had escaped. Again.

“Grievous.” Obi Wan and Anakin turned their attention to the large control panels. “Can you fly a cruiser like this?”

He let out an exasperated breath and he sat in the pilot's chair, “You mean, do I know how to land what’s left of this thing?”

Obi Wan sat down next to him, “Well?”

He began to press the buttons that he knew had to be adjusted, “Well, under the circumstances, I’d say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant.” Considering it was literally falling apart and crashing into Coursacant’s atmosphere.” He looked at Obi Wan, “Strap yourselves in.” He looked around and saw what all was lit up and said to be damaged. They were lucky that it only took him a few moments to understand how to fly something. “Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fins.” He watched carefully as Obi Wan did as he asked. He tried to ignore the pain in his ribs as they slammed forward. He knew that something bad had happened. He ignored R2’s beep that sounded a lot like ‘uh-oh’ and turned to Obi Wan, “We lost something.”

Obi Wan looked and saw exactly what the problem was. He turned back to Anakin, “Not to worry. We are still flying half a ship.” Both of them hoped that the back half would burn up and not cause any damage to the planet below.

Apparently the back half was helping them stay slowish, but now that it was gone? That was a whole ‘nother thing. “Now we’re really picking up speed.”

“Eight plus 60. We’re in the atmosphere.”

Anakin gave a quick nod and pointed to a lever, “Grab that. Keep us level.”

He was trying to keep this to be as much of a control crash as he could. The less damage he caused, the better. Of course his droid constantly beeping in annoyance was causing him to be a little freaked and lose his focus. “Easy, R2.”

“5000. Fire ships on the left and the right.”

“We’ll take you in.”

“Copy that.” More beeping happened that they chose to ignore and Obi Wan pointed ahead, “Landing strip, straight ahead.”

Anakin shook his head, “We’re coming in too hot.” Literally. It wasn’t a joke like usual. He did as much as he could to help control the landing and break as little as possible. And when they hit the watchtower, he just hoped that nobody was in it. Once they had stopped, Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

Obi Wan pushed his hair back and looked between Anakin and the Chancellor, “Another happy ending.” Anakin rolled his eyes at Obi Wan’s comment and got ready to leave the ship.

When Y/N got the news that the Chancellor had been saved and that the Jedi had returned thanks to Padmé, she followed the Senator to where they were going to meet the Chancellor. She stood behind a pillar, hidden from view, as she waited. She heard Anakin talking with Padmé and Bail as they walked through the hall. She bit her lip lightly as she noticed Anakin glancing over at her. She hadn’t really thought this through. How she was going to tell him. But then, she was also happy. Happy that Anakin was safe and alive and in her eyesight.

He and the two Senators’ stopped and she heard Anakin excuse himself. Padmé glanced at her with a knowing look and Y/N returned her look with a ‘shut the hell up’ look.

But as Anakin came jogging over to her, her smile returned. As soon as they were arms length of each other, he grabbed her and pulled her in. Once he knew she was secure in his arms, he lifted her up and spun her around. Once he sat her down, she immediately pulled his face to kiss him. When they pulled away she pulled him into a hug, “Oh, Anakin.”

He sighed and melted into her embrace, “I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

She pulled away slightly, “There were whispers that you’d been killed.”

He smiled softly, he moved a hand and held the back of her head. “I’m all right.” He sat his forehead on hers. “It feels like we’ve been apart for a lifetime.” And while it was probably one of the more annoying and taxing missions he’s had to do the past few months, he wouldn’t deny it. The Chancellor getting taken was a blessing in disguise, “And it might have been, if the Chancellor hadn’t been kidnapped, I don’t think they would have ever brought us back from the Outer Rim sieges.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, but this time more passionately. She stopped him, “Wait. Please, not here.”

He tried his best to hide his hurt as he responded, “Yes here. I-I’m tired of all this deception. I don’t care if they know we’re married.”

“Anakin, I’m not sure you mean that.”

That wasn’t what she meant to say, but somehow, somehow he knew what she meant in some way. So he gave her a soft nod and pulled her into a soft hug. But he pulled away quicker than he had anticipated as he felt the fear in her body. He kept his hands on her arms as he ran his hands up and down them softly. “Are you alright? You’re practically trembling. What’s going on?”

She gulped slightly, “Ani, I found out some...crazy and exciting news not long after you left.”

He tilted his head to the side, “What is it?”

She let out a shaky breath, “Ani...I’m pregnant.”

He looked at her in amazement. The smile breaking out onto his face caused her nerves to wash away. He looked down as he spoke, as if he had noticed her bump that was hidden under the layers of clothes she had on to hide it. “That’s--” He stopped mid-sentence, causing her nerves to rise again. Even when she knew it was because he was searching for the right words to say. “Well, that’s won-that’s wonderful.”

“I want you to know that I wanted to tell you the moment I found out, but I was scared to make you be distracted.” She stopped and looked him in the eyes, asking a question that had plagued her thoughts since she had learned of her pregnancy, “Ani, what are we going to do?”

His smile grew and he shook his head softly, “We’re not gonna worry about anything right now. All right?” She nodded, “This is a happy moment. The happiest of my life I would even say.” She smiled and closed the gap that was continuously getting smaller between them with her lips.

But even that had to end. He eventually pulled away and said, “I need to get back to the Senator’s and deal with the Politics that Obi Wan is avoiding.”

She laughed lightly, “I’ll head back to our place. Will I see you there tonight? Or must you sleep in the Temple and I just watch the Temple from afar?”

He laughed softly, “I will be able to stay with you. You know I always am able to sneak out of the Temple.”

She nodded and kissed his nose, “Go be the hero Jedi that I know you are, Ani.”

He kissed her temple, “I love you more than anything. I hope that you know that.”

She nodded as he began to walk away. Of course she knew. How wouldn’t she? And she knew that he would do anything for her. Neither of them knew just how far he would end up going in order for her to be safe.

The sun had already almost set by the time Anakin got home. She smiled as she felt his arms wrap around her. She turned to them and smiled at him, “Hey.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, “Hey.”

“It was so much fun knowing you were here on Coruscant but not here with me.”

He laughed lightly, “I’m sorry my love.”

“It’s alright.” She sighed, “I heard about Ahsoka.”

He was surprised, “How?”

“Padmé found out. Now don’t ask me how she did. I stopped questioning how she found things out a long time ago.” She moved some of his hair away from his face, “When were you going to tell me?” He thought for a second. He actually hadn’t thought about when he was going to tell her. And as if she could read his mind, she let out a surprised gasp, “You hadn’t even thought of that! Let me guess, you were going to tell me after she left again?”

“No, I would never do that. I would’ve told you once I knew she was on her way back to Coruscant.”

“Why is she going after Maul? She doesn’t even have her lightsabers. Ani.”

He smirked, “So, I may have taken them, repaired them, and had them with me at all times in case I ran into her so she could have them back.”

She let out an amused laugh, “Really?”

He shrugged, “I was always being optimistic with her maybe coming back.”

She smiled sadly, “Do you really think that will happen?”

“I...I hope it will. Or at least she’ll stay on Coruscant. Or stay in touch. I don’t want to lose her again.”

Y/N kissed his lips softly, “I know. It killed me to see you after she left. It was like a part of you died.”

“She’s my sister practically. Just as Obi Wan is practically my brother. I could never lose either of them. Losing them is losing a part of me.”

She gave him another sad smile, “Well, I know you’ll never lose Obi Wan. No matter what stupid thing you do. No matter how much you betray him. He’ll always forgive you. As you will him.”

“Why’re we like this?”

“Like what?”

“Talking sadly. We should be happy.”

“We should?”

He nodded, “After 6 months we’re finally together again and we’re going to be parents.”

Her smile changed to a happy one, “We should be happy, shouldn’t we?”

The sun had gone down and if it wasn’t for the bright lights of Coruscant, it would probably be pitch black. Anakin was leaning against a wall as he stared at Y/N brushing her hair on the balcony. “Ani, what if we had our baby on Naboo? We have so many fond memories there. Padmé has said that the lake country is reclusive and no one could know. We could be safe there.” She turned to him, “She said that she’s heading back soon and that I could go with her. She has a place where we could stay and I could fix up the baby’s room.”

He gave her a soft smile, “Padmé surely knows everything, doesn’t she?”

“She’s helped us so much before. I am very grateful for her.”

He nodded, “So am I.” They were quiet for a moment until he spoke again, “You are so...beautiful.”

She smiled softly and turned to him, “Am I?”

He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Of course you are. Why else would I love you?”

She gave him a soft laugh, “So you’re only in love with me for my looks?”

He laughed lightly, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

She looked at him with fond eyes, “I know.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“As long as you change out of your Jedi attire.”

He let out a soft, genuine laugh, “Alright, alright. I will.”

“Then yes, let’s go to bed.”

There was a baby crying and Y/N was yelling out for help. “Anakin, help me!” Tears were streaming down her face as she screamed.

Anakin shot up, panting. He felt his hair sticking to his forehead and neck with sweat. He looked over at Y/N, who was still sleeping soundly. He let out a shaky breath as he sat on the side of the bed and laid his head in his hands. After a second, he lifted his head up. Grabbing his shirt he got off of the bed and walked out of the room.

And as if she felt his presence fully gone. Y/N groggily sat up and looked around. Her eyes fell on him as she saw him walk out of the room and down the hall. She got out of bed and went to follow him. She found him in the sitting area, just staring off to nothing. She walked over to him and played with the ends of his hair, “What’s bothering you?”

He looked at her and sighed, “Nothing.” He noticed the necklace around her neck and looked at it. It was the one he made her not long after their first meeting. “I remember when I gave this to you.”

They both knew that he was changing the subject. And she didn't want him to do it this time. She knew that he did need to talk about what was wrong. Her hand fell to her side and she let out a sigh this time. “Are we just going to go around in circles with me knowing something is bothering you, you saying it’s nothing, change the subject, and me knowing you’re lying and not wanting to give up until you tell me?” He said nothing, “Ani, please.” Her voice was soft, “You promised me that you would talk about how you felt more.”

He let out another sigh and looked away from her, “It was another dream.”

“Nightmare?”

He nodded, “Just like they were with my mother, right before she died.”

She grew both more curious and concerned, “And? What was it about?”

He looked at her, “And it was about you.”

He moved some of his hair, “Do you want to tell me what else?”

He looked away, “It was only a dream.” He got up and walked a few feet away from her before turning back around. Knowing he would need to tell her eventually. “You...you die in childbirth.”

“Oh.” Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, “And…”

She trailed off but he knew what she was meaning, “I have no idea about the baby. Just...just you.”

She walked towards him, “It was just a dream. This one. I promise you.”

His hands laid on her arms, “I won’t allow this one to become real Y/N. I can’t...I can’t lose you.”

She leaned up and kissed him softly, “I know you won’t.” She let out a soft sigh, “This...this baby...it will change our lives. Maybe for good and maybe for bad. I doubt anyone will let me take any more bounty’s. And if the council learns of you being the father...you’ll be expelled.”

“I know. But that is a risk I have always been willingly to take for you.”

She bit her lip, “What if...what if we told Obi Wan? You mentioned earlier, he’s your brother in all but blood. Maybe he would help us.”

He shook his head, “No. We don’t need his help.” She nodded and let him pull her into his hold.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #star wars #star wars x reader #star wards imagine #the clone wars #revenge of the sith #x reader #imagine

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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago

Text

Two for the Show

Summary: Jeff plans for Harry’s new opening act to be more than that.

Genre: Famous Fake Dating!

Word Count: 17.1k!

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A/N: Hey babes!! This is something I’ve been working on since December now and I’m so fucking proud of it and how it turned out!!! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written and I’m so so so excited to hear what everyone has to say!! Giant thank you’s go out to the incredible soph (@theharriediaries) and Lu (@meetmymouth) bc this never would have come to fruition without them and their help!! Please let me know what you think!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist!! Happy reading y’all :)

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

If Y/N was being honest with herself, everything Full Stop Management had ever suggested to her had worked, and very well. When they suggested her music took a more pop direction, they set her up with a team of fantastic producers and her music sales and popularity skyrocketed. And when they set up an appointment with a celebrity stylist to figure out her signature style, it worked; they turned her into the 1970’s inspired goddess she had always dreamed of being. Even the hours of media training that she had been put through worked, helping her learn how to bob and weave even the most intrusive of interview questions.

But this time, she thought they might be going too far.

“Jeff,” she began with a sigh and a doubtful shake of her head, “I don’t know about this one.”

“It’s just a few months before and during the tour,” explained the man sitting across from her at the long conference table. “You’ll be seen in public a few times to drum up publicity for the tour and your album, maybe do an interview or two together, and some light PDA.”

His expression was honest and earnest. In the time he had represented her, he had never done anything to her that didn’t help her succeed. It was not hard for her to believe that he just wanted what was best for her and her career.

But something kept holding her back.

“I just got my heart broken in the most public way,” she said softly, absentmindedly fiddling with the base of her ring finger where an engagement ring once sat. “Isn’t it a little too soon to be seen jumping back into a whirlwind romance?”

“I don’t think so. If anything, it will make James look even worse than he already does after what he did to you.” She had to admit the idea of a little revenge did perk her ears up a bit. “And it doesn’t hurt that Harry is so universally loved and known for being such a good guy.”

That was another reason she was skeptical of this entire plot. This was Harry Styles they were talking about; Harry fucking Styles. She had only met him once or twice while working out details for her to be the opening act for his upcoming tour, but she had been a big fan of his and idolized him since she was a teen. Just meeting him threw her inner 16 year old self for a loop, let alone trying to pretend she was in love with him.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be too hard on her end once she got over being starstruck; she wasn’t so sure she still wasn’t kind of in love with him, or at least the version the public saw.

“Listen,” Jeff began again, his voice taking on a bluntness, “no one cares about the opening act. No one bought tickets to see you; they’re there to see Harry.” His words stung but she knew it was the truth. “But if they think you are a part of Harry’s life, they care about you too. And they will keep on caring about you after they leave the show.” Her apprehensiveness must have been clear on her face when he put on a gentle smile. “He’s a really nice person. I promise.”

“I know,” she breathed, a small pout finding its way to her lips. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically to signal surrender. “I’m in.”

A triumphant grin spread across his face. “Thank you. I’ll go call Harry and tell him you’re down.” She watched as he got up from his chair and came towards her, pressing a brief and friendly kiss to the top of her head. “You won’t regret this, Y/N.”

“I better not, Azoff,” she chuckled while shaking her head slightly.

Soon she was alone in the conference room, basking in the light from the floor to ceiling windows that sat before her.

“What did I just get myself into?” she mumbled quietly to herself.

***

The answer to that question came two weeks later when she was sitting across a table from the Harry Styles at a small outdoor brunch spot in LA. Their meeting place was strategic, a small restaurant, not too flashy so it didn’t look like they were seeking attention, but outdoors where anyone could see. It was only a matter of time before he was recognized, and the sighting was almost guaranteed to be trending on Twitter only minutes later.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t nervous. The inside of her mouth had been chewed raw and the bags under her eyes showed she had been having trouble sleeping in the nights leading up to their first appearance together. By the end of the day, she would most likely have countless articles written about her and possibly have millions of angry fangirls coming after her; even though their “relationship” wouldn’t be officially confirmed for a few weeks.

If all went to Jeff’s plan, she would become an A-lister overnight.

She stood in front of her closet for over an hour, trying on and taking off outfits before finally settling on her favorite pair of bright red corduroy flares and a crisp white textured halter top. She paired the outfit with a new pair of heeled leather boots. They were a flashy pair that were split down the middle, bright yellow on one side and white with yellow stars on the other, hoping Harry would appreciate the bold colors.

She meticulously did her makeup, sure to match her lipstick color exactly to the shade of her pants; and spent far too long in front of the mirror fussing with her hair, praying it would lay the way she wanted it to.

She knew that she was going to be photographed in some way shape or form, and with the fashion icon himself. She had to look good. He had been on the cover of Vogue for god’s sake.

When she finally arrived at the cafe, Harry sat quietly across from her. He looked casual, or as casual as Harry Styles gets. A yellow t-shirt, that was tight enough to look as if it was painted on, showed off his muscular chest and arms. His iconic tattoos illustrated his arms and she hoped he wouldn’t notice as she covertly tried to examine closely. He uncomfortably ran his palms down the legs of his high waisted denim flares that had been paired with his signature pearl necklace and ratty, but well loved, white vans.

And she couldn’t forget his rings. His signature gold ‘H’ and ‘S’ looked back at her as he gently grasped his flute filled to the brim with a mimosa, bringing it to his pink lips that were surrounded by the short stubble he had been wearing lately.

The pair sat in a slightly awkward silence, both seeming to down their mimosas quickly just because it was something to do with their hands and could occupy their lips so they didn’t have to talk.

To say she was panicking, wouldn’t be too much of an over exaggeration. She was sitting across from one of the world’s biggest stars, and as one of his biggest closeted fans. The things he could do for her career were astronomical and it was hard to ignore that, but she also had a hard time getting over the way his hair seemed to fall into perfect tousled curls and his dreamy green eyes.

She had been in love with him (or at least the idea of him) since she was 16. She couldn’t help it.

But the bottomless mimosas helped to break her anxiety, and apparently his as well, as they both began to feel a slight buzz.

“So how did Jeff end up talking you into this?” Harry eventually broke the silence, the alcohol lowering his naturally shy inhibitions just enough to kick off their conversation.

She let a playful eye roll take over her face before she began. “Oh Jeff,” she said jokingly, letting out a long sigh. “I was convinced somewhere in between ‘it’ll make your ex look bad’ and a stern ‘no one ever cares about the opening act,’” she chuckled, while sarcastically wagging her finger in the air, dramatically re-enacting his scolds.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, letting out a dramatic ‘ouch.’ “He’s not always gentle, is he?” matching her chuckle.

“He knows where to hit you where it hurts,” she laughed, while nodding in agreement. “How did he convince you?”

“Coincidently, he also took a low blow involving my ex. I believe his words were ‘You wrote an entire album about her and haven’t dated anyone since and it makes you look kind of pathetic.’” He dramatically used air quotes and did his best impression of Jeff’s American accent. She couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from her.

“Oh my goodness,” she let out through slightly buzzed giggles, “you definitely win.”

From that point, their conversation began to flow more easily, easing her anxiety as she learned he was generally easy to talk to. He laughed at her jokes, and she laughed at his. He really did have the calming and disarming quality that people always said he had, like could melt down any walls and convince you to be honest with him, even if you didn’t really want to be. She was shocked to find that she wanted him to genuinely be a friend to her so badly. He was just so nice and such a good listener.

Their conversation took a turn when Harry’s super power of knowing when his picture was being taken kicked in. “Give me your hand,” he said to her, diverting from the pleasant conversation they had been having about their families. “Don’t look but there’s someone across the street taking photos of us.”

His instructions brought her back to the reality that they weren’t really friends and that all of this was for show.

She brought her hand up to meet his, strategically resting on the side of the table that faced the street, giving the camera the best view. The cool metal of his hand full of rings felt good against her skin that had been baking in the hot LA sun and he passed his thumb over her knuckles with faux affection.

She couldn’t help but feel a dishonest weight pulling on her heart. She knew everything was going to plan and this was all for the best, but it also felt slightly wrong. She played with her small heart shaped earring to distract herself from the sinking feeling.

“Harry,” she began, knowing the people across the street were out of ear shot. Her voice brought his attention from her hand back up to her eyes. “Does this feel wrong to you at all?”

“How so?”

“It just feels dishonest, like we’re lying to millions of people, our–well, mostly your fans.” She couldn’t help but correct herself.

His eyes softened at her words, like he was taking in the innocence she still held onto after only being in the industry for a short time, compared to his decade in the spotlight.

“I try not to think of it as lying,” he spoke slowly after a moment of thinking. He nodded along softly to punctuate his words. “When you think about all this as lying, it starts to weigh pretty heavy on you as a person. I try to be as honest as possible in my music and daily life, but that’s not always what people want to see. They want a show that will entertain them, and it is our job to give it to them.”

“I see,” she mused.

They sat together for another hour or so, allowing their small mimosa buzz to wear off enough for them to drive the short distances to their homes. The pair eventually found their way back to a comfortable conversation, but Harry’s comment about being in the public eye still weighed on her.

Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if all of this was worth it. Y/N was a master at dodging a question and turning the charm to 10 when it was needed, but she wasn’t a liar and she definitely wasn’t an actress. She hoped she (or Jeff) hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew with all of this.

Harry eventually walked her back to her car that was parked a few blocks away, and while she was sure he was doing it for the cameras, she didn’t doubt that he would have done it even if they weren’t there. He just seemed like that kind of guy to her; caring and trustworthy.

“Thank you for a very nice date, Harry,” she said, winking and chuckling along with the extra emphasis she put on the last word.

“My pleasure,” he smiled down at her. He moved along with her as she walked to the driver's side door, opening it for her like a perfect gentleman. The two stood close, his body hovering over her’s as they stood inside the open door. Her heart rose to her throat as he leaned down to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her burning cheek.

Y/N looked back up at him with rosy cheeks and a tightlipped bashful smile. She watched as he walked backward carefully, taking her hand that had been locked with his until he was too far and let it fall back to her body.

She situated herself in her drivers seat and was ready to leave when she heard a knocking on the passenger side window that startled her. Harry had bent himself over and was motioning for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned himself in, an honest look in his eyes.

“Before you go,” he said gently. “A word of advice from someone who had been in the public eye for a long time,” he spoke with a tender yet serious tone, eyes locking with hers. “When you go home today, don’t go on social media. People are mean, and it’s just going to hurt.” She nodded along with his words and watched as he pinched his bottom lip. “And when you inevitably can’t resist, text me if you need to talk about it.”

***

They must have done a good job putting on their show because within an hour of her returning home to her apartment, they were all anyone was talking about. Their names were trending worldwide #1 on Twitter. Streams of Y/N’s debut album were up by 800%, and even Harry’s streams had taken a considerable jump. Y/N had gained 40,ooo new followers and views on every interview she had ever done were steadily rising.

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

Harry’s words circled her brain for hours. “Don’t go on social media,” she heard him say over and over again as she paced her apartment, only stopping to look at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter every so often.

She had taken a shower, done her hair, tried to watch TV, cooked herself dinner, and even tried to sit down and write a song; it all got her nowhere fast. The unknown was eating at her inside.

Y/N broke when she heard the small ding signaling she had gotten a text message. She had all but sprinted to see who it was, reunited with the outside world through her touch screen. Unsurprisingly, it was from Jeff; the message sent to her and an unknown number she assumed to be Harry’s.

Good job, kiddos., was all it read but there was a photo attached to the message. Her heart stopped while she waited for the photo to load, cursing her slow wifi in the process. After a few breathless moments, the photo came through.

It was a screenshot from the website of one of the biggest entertainment magazines in the country. A picture of him kissing her cheek was the front page of the website.

Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N Rumored To Be Music’s New Power Couple Ahead of Tour

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

She would like to say the sheer shock blurred her judgement, but the curiosity just got the better of her. Harry’s words repeated over and over again in her head, telling her not to, even as her finger connected with the icon of the little blue bird.

She was the most talked about topic in the entire world, her name hovering in bold letters on the trending page. She did everything she could to not click on her name, but her fingers did it all on her own.

The first few tweets were nice. Someone said they liked her style and that they looked cute together as a couple. Another said that they had always enjoyed her music and that they were happy for them.

But as she scrolled, it became harsher and just mean. People commented on her weight, said she couldn’t sing, and criticized her personality as seeming fake and forced. Her eyes were locked on the screen, unable to look away, as her heart began to break and few tears began to roll.

It took one final, and the most painful, tweet for her to consider deleting her account completely. She swiped out of the app fast, but the words were still burned into her brain.

Y/N is using Harry, just like she used James before he got rid of her and found someone better.

The words knocked the wind out of her, pouring salt on an open wound that had yet to heal.

She also had the little blue bird for that heartbreak as well. When she opened the app two months ago, the first thing she saw was pictures of her (former) fiance, James, with his tongue down some girl’s throat. At the time she had been devastated, her heart broken beyond repair.

It felt like no one else in the world could understand the way she was feeling. If she was in this position because of another person, they must get it too. The text to Harry was already sent before she had time to think it over.

I looked and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.

His response came only seconds later.

Don’t be sorry. It’s hard not to. Are you alright?

She had to think about his question, unsure if she knew the answer. Tears were still running down her face and she felt like she was a target the entire world had decided it was open season on. Logically, she knew these people never thought she would see these awful things, but it didn’t excuse the hurt she felt when she did.

I don’t know. I just don’t understand how people can be so cruel.

She felt like she was bothering him, even though he had offered to be there for her. He wasn’t her best friend, or a close confidant; he was her fake publicity boyfriend. He had real friends he wanted to talk to or maybe even a real girlfriend underwraps somewhere. Her body was wracked with guilt as she thought it over.

People are just mean on the internet, okay? They think they can say whatever they want without repercussions. I’m so sorry that you are being targeted because of me.

Before she got a chance to think through a proper response to him, her phone dinged with another text. It was from Jeff again.

Really good job, kiddos.

Y/N was confused. They hadn’t done anything else but be seen together today. Her sick sense of curiosity got her again before she opened Twitter again and looked up Harry’s name. He had tweeted for the first time in six months only a few moments ago.

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

The next time she saw him was two days later at yet another public meet up Jeff had arranged for them. Unfortunately this time, she had become just as famous as Harry seemingly overnight, the flames of her new found fame growing even larger after he had sent that tweet.

While the fame had grown, the hate had calmed since his statement, which most had taken as an official declaration of their relationship. Now, that was not to Jeff’s plans.

She had to fight her way out of her apartment complex, wearing a pair of massive dark sunglasses with circular lenses and shielding her face with her hands the best she could. But she did have to admit that the electric orange fabric of her jumpsuit probably didn’t do much to help her blend in and avoid the attention of the paparazzi that had now found out where she lived.

Harry was sitting at the table by himself facing the back of the cafe when she arrived, two cups of coffee waiting before him to be drank together placed delicately on the table. He had his head down, buried in a book, before she startled him with a hug from behind. Her cheek connected with his warm neck where she buried her head into him and she took in his dizzying cologne.

She felt him jump beneath her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a dramatic and cheesy kiss to his cheek, feeling his light stubble prick her chapsticked lips. “My hero,” she joked, trying to bring at least a little humor to the man who had just about jumped out of his skin at her touch.

It felt like she was crossing a boundary, and she was pretty sure she was, but she just needed to thank him and a hug felt like the best way to do that while in a semi-crowded coffee shop. Also, playing up that they were madly in love didn’t hurt.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, a hand flying over his chest in surprise to feel his racing heartbeat. “You scared the shit out of me.” Once he settled for a moment, his arm moved across his chest to rest on her arm. His touch was gentle and soft, holding her there gently like he didn’t want her to release him from her grasp. She tried not to think about it too much as she slipped her arms off of him, making her way to the seat that was clearly meant for her across from him.

“I’m sorry that I scared you. A little jumpy today?” she teasingly questioned.

“Hey, watch it,” he playfully threatened. “I believe you called me your hero about thirty seconds ago.”

“I guess I did,” she quipped over the mug she was bringing to her lips. It was sweet but not too sweet, with cream but not too much, and still piping hot; just the way she liked it. “I don’t think it’s too far off,” she smiled before turning back to the coffee. “Good coffee,” she mused. “Just the way I like it.”

“Good. I texted Jeff for your order,” he informed her, the gesture being so thoughtful and sweet she could have melted into a puddle right there and then. “And I think ‘hero’ might be a bit much,” he tacked on.

“Don’t be humble, Harry.” While her voice was still light and held a jesting tone, she meant her words. “You made the entire internet leave me alone, for the most part,” she clarified as there were definitely some nasty messages still floating around Twitter, “in five words.”

“It was the least I could do,” he said while shaking his head slightly, seeming to deflect her words.

“You could have done absolutely nothing.” She reached across the table and grabbed his hand in hers like they had staged at the cafe a few days earlier; but this time, it was an honest gesture, not one for a role they were both meant to be playing. Her words were serious, punctuating each with a gentle nod of her head. “I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes held the same truthfulness and honesty she hoped she was mirroring in her own. “I know all of this,” he paused and gestured between them with his free hand, “is for publicity, but I consider you a friend. It was hard to watch it all go down like that. You’re a good person and you didn’t deserve all that. I had to do something.”

There was a warmth that flooded her chest. He called me his friend, she thought to herself, fighting back a big toothy grin. She had been under the impression that all of this was just work for him, something he was doing just to drum up publicity, with no personal connections at all. But him calling her a friend meant so much to her. It meant she was not alone in all this terrifying and overwhelming attention.

“I’m glad you think of me as a friend,” she said, still holding back her smile. “You’re my friend too.” He matched her close-lipped smile that had fought its way onto her face at her words.

They sat in silence together for a few moments. Harry returned to his book and Y/N answered emails; but their hands stayed connected across the small table. This silence was very different from the silence on the day they first met. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that sat on your tongue, begging you to break the quiet; it was peaceful and safe.

Their silence was broken when a young woman wearing a jittery smile and nervous eyes approached their table. Her voice squeaked out a mouse-like “Hi,” towards the both of them, bringing their eyes up to meet hers and instinctively breaking their hands away from each other.

“I’m so so sorry to be a bother,” she began, cheeks red and hot. “But I’m a really big fan of both of you and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t say hello.” She rambled excitedly, mostly looking at Harry, as she held her slightly shaky hands up to her chest.

“Hello,” Harry said with one of his million dollar smiles. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you Emma.” He spoke gently with her, clearly sensing her anxiety, extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for all of your support.”

Y/N watched closely as he spoke with her. He spoke to her like she was the only person in the room, giving her his whole undivided attention, and repeatedly thanking her as she flooded him with compliments about how his music and message of kindness meant so much to her. She was so entranced that she nearly didn’t hear her own name being said as the girl turned towards her.

“I love your music as well,” she grinned, clearly more comfortable after her short conversation with Harry. “And your jumpsuit is just incredible.” Her nervous giggle was contagious, Y/N releasing one as well at the compliment as her cheeks heated slightly. She was shocked she even knew any of her music, clearly being the less popular of the pair.

“Thank you so much, Emma. It means a lot.”

Emma took a few quick selfies with the both of them (that would be everywhere within a few hours), said goodbye and went to leave the two, but not before she paid them one last compliment. “You two are really cute together. I’m rooting for you.”

Both of their cheeks warmed as they looked back at each other. They were quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond, before Harry turned his attention back to the girl with a coy smile. “I am too,” was all he said.

***

The next three weeks passed in a blur of tour rehearsals, fittings, and public meetings with Harry. And then all of a sudden, it was the night of the first show.

Y/N had never been so nervous in her entire life. She would be the first face seen by just over 19,000 people, tasked to warm up the crowd and prepare them for Harry, which was enough pressure. And then there was the chance that they all hated her guts.

She stood behind the curtain, listening to the loud and inpatient crowd as she paced back and forth. She white-knuckeld her guitar, trying to keep her violently shaking hands from being too visible to the crew around her. Her stomach swirled and her palms were clammy, constantly having to rub them on the pants of her icey blue jumpsuit. It fit her like a glove, the wide legged pants and slight shoulder pads, creating a perfect hourglass silhouette; the only thing she was confident in at the moment was how good she looked in it.

Her heart leapt out of her chest and she almost hit the ceiling when a small voice appeared over her shoulder, whispering “You’re going to do great,” in her ear. If her heart wasn’t about to give out before, it was now. She swung around to face him, almost hitting Harry with her guitar, letting out a small breath of relief when her eyes met his own. They always seemed to calm her down a bit.

“I’m kinda freaking out, H,” she anxiously babbled, using the nickname he had told her to call him. “This is the biggest crowd I’ve ever played in front of, and they probably all hate me because they think I’m dating you, and I have to make sure I do a good job so they start listening to my music; and I just…” she trailed off for a second, uncomfortably scratching the back of her neck, “I just can’t let you down.”

His face softened at her words, seeming to take pity on her. “Y/N,” he began, resting his hands on her shoulders and looking so deep into her eyes she felt like he could probably see her soul. “We picked you to open because people love your music and the way that you perform. You just have to go out there and do what you do best: sing your heart out and put on a good show. It’s only 25 minutes. I know you can do it.”

Every word that left his lips was laced with honesty and encouragement; just enough for Y/N to relax her furrowed brow and give her lip a break from her constant chewing. “I can do it,” she softly repeated back to him, still not breaking contact with his striking green eyes.

A stage manager passed by them, running to some other important task, but not before tapping her shoulder. “You’re on in 30 seconds,” he spoke, just as she heard the roar of the crowd begin, signalling the dimming of the lights in the arena.

“Go kick some ass,” he winked, stepping backwards from her and releasing her from his grasp. “I’ll be watching.”

Walking on stage, she wasn’t met with ‘boo’s that had plagued her nightmares, or mean looks from the audience, or rotten tomatoes thrown from the crowd.

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

From the second she started playing, the crowd had her back; the ones that knew the words to her songs sang them along with her, and the ones that didn’t, happily danced to her voice. Before long, the smile she had forced onto her face was genuine, and her set passed by with ease. When her 25 minutes were up, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the stage.

She took her final bow as the crowd roared, running off of the stage into the wings, looking for one person in particular. And when she found him, she threw herself into Harry’s open and waiting arms. “I told you that you were going to do great!” He spoke excitedly into her ear and he held her close to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist tight.

She liked the way it felt to be in his arms.

Pulling away from him, she saw the massive grin that he wore for her, noting how adorable his dimples were and how the excited look in his eyes made him look like a little kid. But there was more to his face than excitement, he looked proud.

“They were so nice to me, and they knew my songs, and they were screaming so loud for me, and it just went so well. I can’t believe it!” Her previous anxious chatter had become an exhilarated rambling and she felt on top of the world.

“I can,” he grinned, looking down at his watch quickly. “I have to go get changed.” If she wasn’t so amped up, she might have noticed the disappointment that flashed over his features. “Promise me you’ll watch the show?”

“Pinky swear?” She stuck up her little finger in the air.

“Pinky swear.” He kept their pinkies locked for a moment too long, then released her hand and ran backstage to get dressed.

She kept her promise and watched with excitement as the building shook when Harry took the stage.

She had never heard something quite so loud, sure her ears would be ringing when she snuggled into her bunk on the tour bus that night. Watching him perform was mesmerizing; he knew how to work a stage in every way and make every person in the arena feel like he was singing just for them. He was larger than life while performing and his little dances and mannerisms only got more pronounced the more comfortable he got on stage. He messed with Mitch, who she had only met a few hours ago (he was very nice), and constantly praised Sarah on the drums behind him, while he looked over to Adam and sent him smiles often.

Everyone in the building came for a show, and boy, did he give them one. It was amazing to watch. There was a reason she was a fan.

Bouncing off the stage, full of adrenaline and in a post-show high, he came to find her. It wasn’t hard, as she had never left her spot on the side of the stage, unable to rip her eyes away from the man before her.

“Oh my god, Harry! That was incredible!” she said with delighted amazement.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He was smiling down at her with a big toothy grin, a hand running through his sweaty hair and pushing it off his forehead. “They only get better from here.”

***

He was telling the truth. The shows only got crazier and more exciting as the tour went on, and so did their “relationship.”

About five shows in, Jeff had Harry given her his “H” ring to start wearing. Harry didn’t seem too phased by it all even though she thought it might be too much, saying “it’s like a friendship bracelet.” But it was too big for her fingers, not because she had small hands, but because Harry’s were absolutely massive. She wore it on a chain around her neck from then on and made sure to always be seen playing with it.

Fans took notice and loved it.

A little after that, Jeff sent them off to get matching manicures. Both had a melting rainbow of oranges, pinks, and browns on their fingertips, which looked amazing in the paparazzi photos of them walking around with their fingers intertwined.

The fans loved that too.

But when she “accidentally” posted a photo of Harry on her story, the entire world lost it’s shit. In the photo, he laid sprawled across a bed in only a white hotel robe that was creeping dangerously high up his thigh. He looked sleepy and slightly sweaty, in a post-fuck haze, and clothes that looked very similar to ones she had been seen wearing in public only days before were strewn across the floor. The caption read “I love getting to love you.”

The photo had strategically only been up for about 30 seconds, but by the time it was deleted thousands of people had seen it and screenshots had been taken. They quickly circulated the internet, creating a bit of scandal. But more than anything, people began to love the two of them together even more. Harry looked genuinely happy in the photo, and for most of his fans, that was all that mattered.

They were creating a fairytale love story for an audience, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying her role. She quite liked being his “girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N had a way of clicking as they grew closer–quite literally as they were crammed together on a tour bus most of the time. They seemed to be able to finish each other’s sentences and always beat the other to the punchline of a joke. The pair had begun to pick up on the other’s mannerisms and habits; Y/N always teasing that Harry was going to rub his nose off one day if he kept rubbing it while he was thinking and Harry always knowing when she got enough sleep by whether or not she had put on eyeliner that morning. They swapped playlists back and forth in their bunks as they tried to doze off and always grabbed a cup of coffee for whoever had decided to sleep in the next day, now knowing the other’s order by heart.

There was only one thing she didn’t know about him that she longed to discover: what his lips felt like against her own. She could never think too hard about it though, or she may just explode.

He had become a calming presence and was currently helping her keep her cool, even though she knew the pair of interviewers across the table were getting ready to grill the pair for every detail they could get. His hand had settled on top of her knee to quell it’s nervous bouncing, but remained after she had stopped, even though no one could see his touch under the table. She watched as his thumb ran itself back and forth along the leg of her flashy orange and yellow patterned overalls and she had a hard time pulling her gaze away when the radio host across the large table began to speak.

“So Harry,” the bald man began. “Fine Line has been one of the biggest albums of the year and I just have to say I love it. It’s truly incredible.” She listened as the man continued on to sing Harry’s praises, going on to list his grammy nominations, sold out world tour, and other accolades. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched his cheeks tinge pink with the praise. She knew anyone watching would pick up on her adoring look and people fawn over it, but she knew her gaze was nothing but truthful.

“Thank you very much,” he said shyly, shaking his head slightly as he spoke into the microphone suspended in front of his face. “You’re too kind.”

“Stop being humble,” she teased him, playfully tapping him on the arm. “All of his music is fantastic,” she said turning her attention back to the man across from them, “especially Fine Line.”

“And there’s Y/N, being the supportive girlfriend,” the man chuckled.

“I support him in everything he does,” she smiled back, not having to embellish the truth at all. “He is an amazing talent and I think Fine Line shows that.”

It wasn’t hard for her to gush about him. It was actually quite easy. She absolutely adored him, as an artist, a friend, and the focus of her affection. She felt an equal warmth in her cheeks as she watched his get even pinker with her compliments.

“That’s actually something we wanted to ask you about,” the blonde woman sitting next to him piped up, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent nervous butterflies flying around Y/N’s stomach. “One of the songs on Fine Line, Cherry to be specific, actually features the voice of Harry’s ex, Camille. How does that make you feel as his new girl?”

Y/N did her best not to gag at the woman’s question, gritting her teeth as she plastered on a polite smile. “Well, I think Cherry is a really great song and her voice at the end adds a lot,” she spoke as smoothly as she could, refusing to let on that the question rattled her. Harry’s light squeeze on her knee signalled to her that she had answered the question well.

“It’s also been three years since the song was written,” Harry cut in. “Things are obviously a lot different now.” He connected their eyes for a second while he was leaning back into his seat, sending her a short smile, but she knew him well enough to know it was genuine.

“Oh, definitely,” the woman eagerly agreed. “You’re in a great new relationship with a beautiful girl on your arm.”

“Y/N,” he emphasized her name as the woman had referred to her as a possession of his for a second time, “and I are very happy. Thank you.” To an onlooker, he was calm. To her, he was visibly uncomfortable by her words.

Y/N began to notice a clear pattern as the interview went on. Harry was asked exclusively about his music and the tour, while Y/N only became relevant to their interviewers when they wanted to mention their relationship.

When the man asked Y/N if she felt uncomfortable playing to Harry’s mainly female fanbase every night that are “so obviously jealous of her,” something snapped inside of her, sending all her hours of media training out the window. “I’m not uncomfortable at all,” she said curtly. “His music is great and he puts on an awesome show. I don’t think the audience’s gender really has anything to do with the music.” She watched the man’s face fall before she decided to go on. “And I would like to think that at least a few of them are there for me too. You do know I make music too, right?”

An indignant smirk found its way to her lips as the man stammered out, “yes, of course.”

“Okay. I was just wondering since you have only asked me questions about our relationship since we got here.”

She knew Jeff wouldn’t be happy, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less. They may not have really been dating, but the interviewers didn’t know that. All of their dismissal of her and her career was 100% real.

She had been so worked up that she didn’t even realize Harry’s hand had left her knee until it found its way to rest on her back. She leaned into his touch as he rubbed her back softly while she crossed her arms in front of her.

The interviewers looked at the two of them across the table, jaws both lying on the floor. It was quiet until Harry nonchalantly spoke. “She has a point.”

The last few minutes of the interview passed in an awkward blur that felt suffocating. She felt like she could finally take in a deep breath once they were in the back of a massive SUV being driven away from the studio.

“Jeff is going to have my head,” she mumbled under her breath, nose stuck into her phone as she scrolled Twitter to see what people were saying about her outburst. But before she could read any opinions, Harry's tattooed arm blocked her view as he gently pushed her phone down onto her lap.

“Look at me,” he murmured, beckoning her attention to the other side of the back seat. When she connected her eyes with his, his usual calming aura took over her, softening the stressed crease between her brows. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Harry, I just blew my career up into smoke because I couldn’t deal with a rude interviewer,” she huffed at him.

“No,” he disagreed softly, moving the hand that rested on her arms to interlock his fingers with one of hers. “You stuck up for yourself to people who were ignoring your work and whittling you down to your relationship.”

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

The car ride to the venue for that night’s concert was quiet, but Harry never let go of her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a comforting touch. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted him to let go.

***

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the pair returned to their tour bus and went to crawl into their bunks.

Her performance had gone well and Harry was mesmerizing (as always). He was truly hypnotizing to watch while he performed and she hadn’t missed watching him yet, even as they drew close to the end of the tour. It was the best part of her day and she would miss it dearly after the last show.

She was almost asleep, curtain drawn and cuddled under a pile of blankets, when her cell began to ring. Her heart sank, knowing only one person who would know when she had a sliver of free time (even though it’s debatable if sleeping counts as free time). She was going to get scolded like she was a little kid in the principal's office and she knew it.

“Hi Jeff,” she answered with a sigh as she pulled the curtain back and slid from the bunk, the cold air of the tour bus nipping at her legs.

Her gaze was met by a snuggled up Harry wearing a concerned face across from her in his own bed. He never closed the curtain, not even when she asked politely to muffle his snores, always saying something about how it made him claustrophobic. He sent her a tired smile and mouthed “good luck,” extending a hand for a fist bump as she passed. Knocking their knuckles together put a brief smile on her face before she buckled in for the chewing out she was about to get.

Harry watched her intently as she paced up and down the front of the tour bus as she spoke to Jeff, too far away for him to listen in. Her face gradually turned from anxious, to surprised, to something that would have probably been happiness if she wasn’t so tired.

“Alright, thank you for everything.” She spoke softly when she finally returned to be within earshot for him. “Goodnight Jeff.”

“So?” he murmured groggily at her, brows raised in question at her.

“People loved it,” she said shocked, like she didn’t fully believe it herself. “They think I’m some kind of badass for shutting down a sexist. Which is, like, a lot,” she spoke with a disbelieving chuckle, unable to find the right words in her groggy state. “I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Harry seemed to spring up from his spot in his bed, smacking his head on the top of the bunk in the process, prompting them both to dissolve into a puddle of giggles.

“Don’t get too excited for me,” she laughed. “I cannot be the reason that you hurt yourself and have to cancel a show.”

“I was just too excited to say ‘I told you so,’” he smirked, now rubbing the side of his head through his curls.

“Cocky bastard,” she sarcastically murmured under her breath while dramatically rolling her eyes.

She watched with confusion as Harry left his bed, and after a short and frantic search for his pajama pants so he wouldn’t “offend her eyes,” he moved towards the front of the bus. Her eyes trailed him as he bent down to the small mini fridge and pulled out two beers.

“We have to celebrate.”

It was 2 AM and she had been so ready for bed after a long day. But she knew she could never say no to him. She thanked god that they had a day off tomorrow.

After retrieving her massive and lovingly worn Grateful Dead sweatshirt to protect her from the chilly air, she nearly ran to the front of the bus. His painted pink fingers moved with skill as he popped the bottle caps off with one of his rings, handing it to her and gently nudging his bottle against hers.

“Cheers,” he murmured softly as he looked down at her with a kindhearted smile.

“Cheers,” she seemed to whisper back to him, a flutter in her stomach reminding her how badly she wanted to reach out and connect her lips to his. Instead she slid into the small booth across from him, taking a long sip from the bottle as she watched him do the same.

“I want you to know that I was really proud of you today,” he said as he put his beer down on the table. “Rude interviewers are never easy and you handled it like a champ.”

“Thank you, H,” she nodded, suddenly bashful and unable to make eye contact with him. Her cheeks burned hot as she put all her focus into tracing the rim of the bottle with her finger tip.

“Hey,” he called for her attention and her eyes snapped up to meet his. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” she gently nodded at him. “I’m just really happy they didn’t ask about my ex,” she chuckled as she took another sip. “That would have gone very poorly.”

“Oh yeah, I was a little annoyed they brought up my ex but not yours,” he teased. “Not fair if you ask me.”

“Well, then I’m glad no one asked you.”

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

She should have been prepared to talk about it with Harry at some point. Half of this plan had been devised to get back at James anyway. She should be able to talk about it by now, especially with someone she had grown so close to.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, trying to seem casual like the mere mention of him didn’t still hurt her heart a little bit. “What do you want to know?”

“As much as you’re willing to tell me.”

He looked soft like this, eyes slightly sleepy with a tenderness in them as he looked back at her. His hair was unruly and puffy and he was wrapped in the powder blue blanket that lived on the tour bus’ couch. She would have told him anything that he ever wanted to hear if he kept looking like this.

With a deep breath, she began to recount everything that went down.

“I met James while I was still working as a waitress. I recognized him from his movies and started a conversation, and then–to my surprise–he asked me out on a date. I had been in LA for three weeks and this insanely famous actor is asking me to go out with him, so I obviously said yes.” She paused to take a swig of her beer, before mumbling under her breath, “I should have said ‘fuck no’ to that.”

A smile ghosted over her lips as she listened to Harry’s laugh across the table. She swore that laugh could cure cancer.

“But I didn’t,” she continued. “He introduced me to the right people and helped me make the right connections in the industry, which I guess made me feel indebted to him. Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded, eyebrows furrowed and listening intently.

“I should have broken up with him after I signed with Jeff and the label, however awful that sounds. But he just always knew the right things to say to make me feel special and like I was the most important person in the world. Even after I found out he was talking to other girls, he was somehow able to talk himself out of it.” She shook her head as she recalled it. “You wanna hear something fucked up?”

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

“He proposed to me using lines from a romcom he was working on.”

Harry nearly spit out his drink. “Holy shit, you’re kidding!”

“I wish. I didn’t find out until I went with him to the premier a few months later and the proposal scene sounded surprisingly familiar.”

“What a dirtbag.”

“I know, right?” she laughed. “Then a few weeks after that, he got papped with his tongue down another girl’s throat. That finally knocked some sense into me and I ran for the hills.”

“Fuck,” he sighed as he finished his beer. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she breathed. “I don’t even feel hurt by him anymore, ya know? I just feel angry at myself for trusting him.”

“I understand but it’s not your fault he was a piece of shit,” he said as he rose from his seat and traveled to the mini fridge once again. “Another?” he asked, holding the bottle up about his head.

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

She watched him skillfully pop off the tops again using just his rings, making a mental note to make him teach her how he did that, before he flopped back down in his seat.

“At the risk of sounding like a Facebook mom, ‘you grow through what you go through,’” she chuckled, taking another long sip as she finished her first. He matched her high pitched giggle across the table and she nearly drooled beer down her front from smiling so wide.

“Amen, sister,” he agreed, raising his beer in the air.

“Oh, that was awful.” She shook her head as she descended into giggles. “Please never say that again.”

“Noted.”

“Anyway,” she began again after another sip of her drink, “I was well prepared to get my heartbroken by untrustworthy men after you, Styles.”

“I’m offended–tell me more,” he spoke quickly, his signature narcissistic smirk settling onto his features.

“I need you to know that Zayn leaving was my first real heartbreak.”

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

“You weren’t Zayn, I can tell you that.”

“Ouch!” He let out a loud belly laugh.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, H. So first, the hottest-”

“Rude-”

“-I’m speaking. So the hottest one leaves, and then the rest of you are all like ‘we’ll be back in 18 months,’” she mocked him in a high pitched impersonation with a wave, “and then 6 months later you all mysteriously have solo careers.”

“I do not see you complaining about my solo career now, ya fame leetch.” He spoke with such humor and charisma, she couldn’t have even wished to be offended by his joke.

“Absolutely not, sir,” she said sternly, giving him a dramatic salute. “Deepest apologies from the fame leetch.” The two collapsed into giggles, laughing until their sides began to ache.

“Wait, I have a question for mega superstar Mr. Harry Styles of former One Direction fame,” she announced.

“I believe that’s me,” he bowed his head and raised his hand into the hair. “Shoot.”

She barely could get the question out, laughing too hard at her own joke. “Is Taylor Swift a good kisser?”

“Oh god,” he exasperatedly threw his hands in the air, chuckling while rolling his eyes dramatically before grinning wide as he thought over his answer. “I don’t kiss and tell,” he finally smirked.

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

“You think I’m smart?” she teased as she feigned flattery. “Have you ever heard of a song called ‘English Love Affair?’” He narrowed his eyes at her, a knowing smirk crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Also, when do I get to meet Gemma?”

“I’ll consider it when you stop bringing up her sex life, perv.”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now,” she teased as she continued to prod, emboldened by the liquid courage running through her veins as she was now half way through her next beer. “I think I should be allowed to meet the family soon. They seem delightful.”

“They would love how you have decided to rip into me like this,” he said with a cheeky smile, dimples on full display.

“Rockstars have to get knocked down a peg every once in a while.” She sarcastically shrugged. “Consider it a favor.”

She couldn’t help but think about how right this felt. Their back and forth flowed so smoothly, the banter falling from their lips without effort. Their laughter joined together in a delightful melody and she imagined they could go on this way all night.

Spending any amount of time with him made her so fucking happy; and time spent teasing each other over beers caused her to nearly explode with joy. How much she was enjoying herself was too hard to put into words.

He was safe and he was kind and he made her laugh no matter how bad his jokes were.

He was her best friend.

And for the first time, she was willing to admit that she was in love with him.

“Harry,” she hummed softly as their laughter died down to a comfortable silence. “Thank you for everything. You’ve changed my life forever and I can never repay you.”

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

“Oh shut up, I’m being serious,” she playfully scolded before letting her tone drop back into honesty. “You’re a very good person and I’m eternally grateful for you letting me be your opening act and then agreeing to this whole relationship charade.”

“I didn’t ‘let’ you be anything, Y/N. I picked you myself.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I listened to your album when it came out and fell in love with it,” he shrugged, his casual tone contradicting the surprised raise of her pulse. “When I found out Jeff also managed you, I knew I had to have you on the tour.”

Y/N was honestly stunned. She had always assumed that the tour was Jeff’s doing, a careful arrangement pairing Full Stop’s new up-and-comer with their most famous and established talent. Being offered the tour had been the biggest opportunity and honor she had ever been presented with; but she had never considered Harry himself being behind it.

“Oh,” was all she could manage to get out.

It was now his turn to be confused. “What’s so surprising about that?” he asked, reading the shock on her face like she was an open book.

“I just,” she stammered, trying to find the words in her slightly hazy state. “I never would have thought you knew who I was or listened to my music.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she trailed off. “You’re you, and I’m just... me, I guess.”

He didn’t respond right away, just looking at her intently and slightly amused, sea glass eyes boring into her with a pink lip held between his teeth.

He scanned her frame, from the way her hair sat messily on top of her head and the way the massive sweatshirt swallowed her body enough to where she had pulled her knees up to her chest underneath it. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, making her appear smaller as she held her legs close to her torso and her eyebrows were knitted together in worry, slightly nervous under his intense gaze.

She downed the rest of her beer in an attempt to forget his intense attention. It didn’t work.

“You really don’t know how incredible you are, do you?” he finally asked, the corner of his lips twitching into a small smile.

She felt her whole body burn with his compliment, wanting to shrink into herself and disappear completely from his view. She finally shook her head slightly in an attempt to deflect his words, breathing his name under her breath as if to scold him for being too kind.

“You are,” he insisted, ignoring her objection. “You’re so talented and your music deserves all the attention that it gets. I am honored that I get to play a part in helping expose the world to you and what you have to offer.”

“Thank you.” Her words came out as a whisper.

“You’re welcome, love.”

His pet name made her stomach turn in a nervous excitement and a wide grin involuntarily came to her lips.

“I like it when I make you smile like that.” His words only made her beam further. “You look very pretty when you smile.”

“Stop it,” she said softly, cheeks burning hot and having a hard time making eye contact with him.

“Stop what?” He feigned innocence as he lightly teased her, smirk still prominent on his features.

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

His words rang through her mind long after they had left the table and crawled back into their bunks for the night. She wished she could see inside his head to understand whatever thoughts were running around his brain.

But for now she could just peak at him through the gap she had purposely left in her curtain, wondering if she ever popped into his dreams as he slept.

He was always in hers.

***

There was a sadness mixed in with her usually thrilled mood as she took the stage for the last show of the tour. While there was an element of relief as she looked forward to some well needed rest, the adrenaline and joy of being in front of a crowd was something that she would miss dearly. She had grown into a real performer over the last two months as they zig-zagged across the US and this period of time would have a special place in her heart long after it had ended.

But there was another reason why she was so sad to see this chapter come to an end. As far as she knew, a staged breakup was not far away and the thought of being without Harry was heartbreaking. He had become her person and soon their feux falling out would be on the front page of every magazine. She wanted nothing more in the world than for their relationship to be real, but it would be forced to end before it had even truely started.

She got choked up as she sang her final song that night, letting a few tears escape as she took in the thousands of people singing her lyrics back to her, flashlights swaying in the air to the beat of the music. Taking a move from Harry’s own playbook, she took her mic and directed it to the crowd to sing as she cried. The vibrations of the drums and bass behind her nestled it’s way into her bones and the chorus of singing voices in the crowd surrounded her in a bittersweet melody.

The past two months she had been on top of the world, and as soon as this song finished, it was the beginning of the end.

She took her final bow, watching as the small tears fell forward onto the dusty stage below her. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, then nearly ran off the stage looking for the only person she wanted to see.

Harry was right where he always was, just out of view behind the curtain, holding his arms out for her to fall into.

“Awe, babe,” he hummed sympathetically when she settled her head onto his chest, surely ruining his crisp white t-shirt with her now wet makeup. “It’s okay. Final shows are always tough.” He rubbed her back gently, in a soothing rhythm.

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

She tilted her head up to connect her glassy eyes with his. “I just don’t want this all to end.” She knew she wasn’t just talking about the tour.

“Neither do I,” he said as his lips curved into a devilish smirk that sent her heart into palpitations. “That’s why I have one last surprise for you.”

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed while wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. “What have you done?”

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

“Not surprises in front of 20,000 people!”

“I promise you’re going to love this one, okay?” His voice was softer now, encouraging and supportive. “You’re going to come out and sing an extra song with me during my set,” he revealed.

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

“I just finished sobbing. I can’t go out there like this.”

“You can fix your makeup. I believe in you.”

“What am I going to wear?” she asked, grasping at straws at this point, doing anything she could to get out of this.

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

She peppered him with a few more questions, but he had a smooth and charming answer to every single one. He had thought every detail out, and as always, she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine,” she finally exasperatedly agreed, immediately met with his excited and dimpled smile that she had fallen head over heels for.

“Perfect,” he breathed. “I have to go get ready and so do you. I already put everything you need in your dressing room, okay?” She nodded, still biting her lip anxiously. He held her by her shoulders, lowering his head to match their eye level as he leaned in close, before he spoke. “You’re going to have fun. I promise.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

Seconds after they locked their little fingers together, he pressed a quick and protective kiss to her forehead that set her whole body ablaze before running off in the direction of his dressing room. She remained stunned and frozen in her spot for a few moments trying to process what it felt like to have his lips on her for the first time since that very first day they had met.

There was no audience to perform it for or an act to keep up behind the curtain. He kissed her because he wanted to.

She was finally snapped out of her daze when a stagehand bumped into her by accident, prompting her to begin the short walk back to her dressing room. But the ghost of his lips remained on her forehead, an incessant tingle placed there by his touch.

The dress she found waiting for her was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever set her eyes on. Made of a light purple chiffon, the wrap dress’ long sleeves and floor length skirt flowed freely. A belt cinched the wispy fabric close to her waist and a deep-v exposed her neck and chest. But the most dazzling part of the dress were the red sequined hearts that dotted the fabric and reflected the light of the dressing room like a million little mirrors.

Slipping into it, the light fabric was soft against her skin, opaque enough but still slightly sheer to let light through and show off her legs and the bright red shiny pumps Lambert had left for her. She felt the most beautiful she had ever felt in this dress, boosting her confidence and quelling her nerves about whatever the hell Harry was planning.

“One minute to curtain,” was announced in an ominous voice over the arena’s backstage speakers as she finished fixing her makeup and she all but ran to make it back to the stage in time. She only had one more chance to watch him perform and she refused to miss a second of it.

Harry dazzled as the lights focused in on him, his deep blue and fully sequined suit reflecting the light and turning him into a human disco ball. He stood close to the edge of the stage as the beginning notes of the first song began being played by the band, but he made no move towards his mic stand to sing. His eyes were closed and his arms were outstretched to the audience, taking in every scream, every tear, and the thunderous shake of the building; but also giving himself to them.

Then the show began. As usual, he was electric, but tonight was like he had turned himself up to eleven. Every note he sang was full of his heart and every dance move was done with his entire body, even his bad jokes seemed funnier tonight.

She was so mesmerized she almost forgot about his ‘surprise.’ Almost.

“Since tonight is unfortunately our last show,” he pouted. “I thought I would do something special,” he spoke to the crowd as they roared, but quickly connected his eyes with her’s in the wings. By the smirk plastered on his face, she knew she was in for it.

“I recently found out that someone very close to me was a very big fan of…” he trailed off as he dramatically pretended to search for the right words, “my previous work.” He finished with a smirk and his words prompted the loudest reaction since he had been on stage.

“Now, I told her that she would be coming on stage to join me tonight, but I didn’t exactly tell her what we would be singing and I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, so cut us some slack if we mess up. This is very unrehearsed.” He kept sneaking glances back to her, as her eyes grew wider at the stunt he was currently pulling. “But I know for a fact that she knows all the words. I listen to her sing them in the shower quite often.” He wore a cheeky dimpled grin as he looked back at her once again.

The building was shaking due to the suspense he was creating, and looking down at her hands, she realized she was to. She gripped hard onto the mic a stagehand had just shoved at her, pleading with her hands to stop their tremors.

“Now, I would love it if you could all give another warm welcome to one of my favorite people on the planet, Y/N Y/L/N!” He turned his body to her for a final time, extending his hand out for her to take. Her legs felt like jello as she walked out into the bright lights towards him, interlocking her fingers with his as a way to keep her on her feet.

The audience’s screams were deafening at seeing the two of them together and she thanked god she had her earpieces in to protect her ear drums or they would have surely burst. She could only imagine the articles that would be written about this and the thousands of tweets that were probably already being sent.

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” she mouthed at him threateningly, but she couldn’t even get through the sentence before his dazzling smile began to quell her anxiety.

“The look on your face is 100% worth getting my ass kicked,” he answered smoothly before turning his attention back to the audience. “Everyone, sing along if you know the words,” he commanded their attention. “This is Ready to Run.”

Her jaw dropped and the crowd roared as the band behind her began to play the first few chords of the song she loved and knew so well. She had admitted it a few days ago that it was one of her favorites of his ‘previous work,’ but apparently he already knew that from the few showers she had taken on the tour bus.

“There’s a lightning in your eyes I can’t deny,” he began by himself, her brain still too shocked to jump in yet. He sang the first few lines to her with a giant grin plastered on his face, hand still holding tight to hers. His eyes had a playful glint in them that seemed to say ‘just have fun.’

“There’s a devil in your smile, it’s chasing me,” she finally began to sing, Harry fading his voice out so she could take the next few lines by herself as he admired her.

He did have a devilish smile, but it was one she loved with her entire heart. As she began to sing, she felt her muscles begin to relax into the song she had sung to herself so many times before, letting her body begin to bounce to the growing rhythm as her dress flowed around her.

The stage vibrated as Sarah beat her drums to introduce the chorus. “This time I’m ready to run, escape from the city and follow the sun,” the pair sang together, eyes still locked as their voices combined into the most perfect tune. “Cause I wanna be yours, don’t you wanna be mine?” they continued the lyrics. She felt herself meaning the words leaving her mouth more and more as they went on. She did want to be his, she couldn’t deny that. “I don’t wanna get lost in the dark of the night.”

Her apprehensiveness eased further as the music picked up and the hook went on, finally allowing herself to have a bit of fun. “Wherever you are is the place I belong,” they insisted towards each other, leaning in close before Harry grabbed her hand to dramatically spin her, the beautiful shining fabric of her dress splaying out around her. The next line was mumbled through giggles by both of them, but their laughter only added to the perfect moment they were having.

They danced across the stage together like there weren’t 20,ooo pairs of eyes watching them, both singing their hearts out to each other. It began to feel like they weren’t even there. It was just Y/N and Harry, serenading each other to one of her favorite songs.

“There’s a future in my eyes I can’t foresee,” she sang to him to start the second verse.

“Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me.” Harry grabbed her by her waist and pulled her into his side as he sang the words, prompting more giggles from her. She loved the way he smiled so wide as he sang, never breaking his eye contact with her and emitting pure joy. His eyes looked honest as he sang, like he meant every word just as much as she did.

The pair made their way through the rest of the verse and second chorus, flawlessly moving around the stage like they owned it. Y/N selfishly decided to let him have the bridge all to himself, needing to hear the way his beautiful voice hit the high notes. “This time I’m ready to run,” he sang passionately, executing the downward moving riff perfectly. “I’d give everything that I got for your love,” he pointed across the stage towards her, beckoning her back close to him. She quickly skipped to him at his request.

Like she had blinked, the song was already nearing its end.

“Cause I wanna be free and I wanna be young, I’ll never look back now I’m ready to run,” they belted the last lines out to each other. The band fell quiet on their last chord and the crowd exploded, but their noise fell on deaf ears as the pair stood so close their heaving chests were almost pressed up against each other. His eyes stared down into hers and she watched as his eyes flickered quickly down to her lips.

The world ceased to exist when he pressed his mouth to hers, even if it only lasted a second. It was nothing more than a peck, but it was everything to her. Her body igniting with heat and eyes full of shock, she looked back at him in simultaneous confusion and adoration, before realizing they had been staring at each other for too long. She needed to get off the stage so he could continue with his show. She walked back slowly towards the wings, letting the hand he had still been holding fall to her side. She waved and smiled to the crowd the best she could in her clouded mind.

“Thank you everyone!” she shouted into her mic as she moved out of their view. She shoved her mic into the first set of hands that would take it as she wobbled her way over to a table with water bottles. She nearly choked as she tried to suck one down, hoping it would ease the dizzy feeling he had created with his lips. Her lips burned just as her forehead had earlier in the night.

He had kissed her. He had sang a love song with her and then he had kissed her. She couldn’t decipher if that kiss was a confirmation that he shared the same feelings for her or if it was just another act for the cameras. But his mouth felt so right against hers. They fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces. She tried to suppress the optimistic hope that rose in her chest, but it began to swallow her whole.

When she heard his next song begin, she made her way back to the spot that had become hers at the side of the stage. She watched him perform the rest of the show in a loving haze, doe eyed and hypnotized, lips still buzzing from his contact.

He gave it his all. By the last song he was out of breath, drenched in sweat, and looked like he was about to pass out at any second. The crowd applauded for minutes after he left the stage and they were still cheering when she finally caught sight of him again. His curls were stuck to his forehead and his skin was shiny and flushed. He was panting, still trying to recover from his workout of a finale show; but he was beaming. His smile seemed to turn him into a beacon, emitting a light and positive energy that drew everyone backstage towards him.

She was so transfixed on Harry as he thanked the crew and accepted congratulations from all around that she just about jumped out of her skin when Jeff slinked up behind her and whispered ‘boo’ in her ear.

“What the fuck, Jeff,” she chuckled as she caught her breath, resting her hand on her chest and feeling her racing heartbeat.

“I just wanted to congratulate you on being half of the best fake couple out there,” he teased. “That kiss was perfect. People are losing their minds over it.”

“Oh,” she said softly, feeling every emotion she was distracted from while watching Harry rush back into her. Her heart sank as she remembered all the questions that continued to haunt her since she got off stage. “Thanks,” she murmured, plastering a smile onto her face. “I’m glad we could make you proud.”

“If you two could convince me, you can convince anyone.” Jeff walked off moments later, leaving her to sit in her confused thoughts as he disappeared into the hoards of bodies waiting for their minute with Harry.

She knew that she didn’t ‘convince’ Jeff of anything on her part. Everything she did with Harry was authentic and truthful. Including the thrilled grin that appeared on her face when she finally made eye contact with the exhausted man across the room. She gave him a shy wave that he sheepishly returned, biting back a shy smile. He pointed in the direction of his dressing room and mouthed “meet me in 15.”

She could never say no to him.

Fifteen minutes later, she was knocking on the large wooden door that had a single piece of paper that read STYLES haphazardly taped onto it. When it finally flew open, she was met by a soaking wet Harry with a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his body without permission, taking in the toned torso that was decorated with his beautiful tattoos. Her eyes hovered over the two ferns that sat on his pelvis, too fascinated with the dark ink to pull her eyes away just yet.

She had obviously seen him in various states of undress before. They lived together on a tour bus without much space to exist with privacy, but this was different. He wasn’t rushing to get dressed or quickly changing his outfit. And he wasn’t moving away from her gaze at all.

If she hadn’t been so entranced by him, she would have noticed he was looking her up and down in the exact same manner.

She had changed since she had seen him last. The skin-tight black velvet romper she had brought along for the afterparty now fit her snuggly and held her every curve. The dark fabric was tight and appeared almost painted on, a rainbow racing stripe making its way down either side of her chest. The short shorts of the outfit exposed nearly all of her legs and the deep neckline put much of her chest on display as well. It’s long sleeves were her favorite part, as a strip of fringe dangled from below her arms any time she moved.

“You look great,” Harry finally choked out, his voice pulling their eyes back up to the other’s face.

“Oh, thanks,” she said, slightly awkwardly. “You too.”

“Well, I’m hopefully not going to the after party dressed like this,” he chuckled before stepping aside and ushering her into the room.

His dressing room was much larger than hers and she settled herself on the brown leather couch in the corner as she waited for him to get ready, sneaking glances up from her phone often. She chuckled as she watched him spend far too long fussing with his curls in the mirror, but was quickly distracted by the way his back and arms flexed when he reached up to muse his hair. Once he was satisfied with the way it fell, he disappeared into the bathroom at the back of the room. When he emerged, he was finally dressed, allowing her to take a deep breath and to focus on something other than his bare skin for the first time since he had opened the door.

The black satin suit was simple for him, but the tight white tank top that sat underneath hugged every muscle in his torso. She knew as soon as he got in the hot club, he would lose the jacket, and she would be devastatingly distracted once again.

The narcissist took one final look at himself in the mirror before turning to her and extending a hand. “Ready, darling?”

“You just spent 15 minutes exclusively on your hair and you’re asking me if I’m ready?” she teased as she took his hand, weaving her fingers between his as they exited the room together.

He leaned down close to her ear as they walked down the now mostly empty hallway, lips brushing over the hollow of her ear as he spoke. “I could have done it faster, but you were so obviously enjoying the show.”

“Relax yourself, Magic Mike,” she muttered indignantly, but hung her head in a way she hoped he couldn’t see how flustered he made her. Was she really that obvious?

They walked hand in hand out to the parking garage, now caught in a back and forth about whether or not Harry could be a male stripper. He said yes. She said no, although she did admit at one point that he worked his mic stand like a pole.

“Hey Jeff,” he called when they finally reached the parking garage where Jeff and Glenne had been waiting for them to head to the club. “Do you think I could be a stripper?”

“I think people would pay a lot to see it, but they may be disappointed in your dancing skills.”

“Come on,” he playfully whined. “I have some moves.”

“You have one move,” Y/N cut in with a chuckle, “and it’s the wiggle.” She brought her hands up near her chest, tilted her head back while dramatically biting her lip, and swayed her arms by her sides, earning a chorus of laughter from the people around her.

She hadn’t even realized she had done the move without releasing Harry’s hand first, dragging his arm into her dance as well, until their manager commented on it. “You know, you two don’t have to be holding hands all the time and keeping the show up back here,” he said with a slightly suspicious quirk in his eyebrows.

Her smile had been in the process of fading, like they had been caught doing something wrong, before Harry answered smoothly. “We know. Just practicing.”

There were those words again. Just practicing, she thought over to herself. But was he practicing anymore? How many flirty comments, heartfelt compliments, and warm touches did it take to cross the line of practicing to the real thing?

She wasn’t sure about Harry, but she knew that she wasn’t just practicing anymore.

She knew that the way they sat nearly on top of each other in the large SUV on the way to the club felt more than friendly. And the way he hadn’t stopped touching her in some way since they left his dressing room insinuated far more than something with business-like intentions. And the way he looked at her everytime he caught her eye the entire way to the club, always with a bright smile and adoring gaze that she always returned, pulled at her heartstrings far more than they should have if this was all an act.

A sloppy and cheeky grin settled almost permanently on his features after he had a few drinks in him, his arms moving in a lazy and fluid manner as she took in his many tattoos that he had exposed when he ditched his jacket (just like she knew he would). His butterfly was visible through the tight ribbed fabric of the white tank top and the little birds that peaked out from underneath seemed to be inviting her even closer to him in her now inebriated state.

All she wanted to do was to connect her lips with his as she watched him make conversation with someone from his management, entranced by the way his perfect mouth moved as he spoke. She once again craved the shocks of electricity that were created between them at the contact and could not stop thinking about it no matter how hard she tried. The protective hand that had settled onto her hip and continued to hold her close to his body just wasn’t enough anymore.

The pair had been drinking far too much; martinis turning into vodka sodas that had turned into straight tequila shots. She believed it was tequila shot four that did her in. The last thing she remembered was licking the line of salt off the back of her hand, downing the shot, and being entranced by Harry’s eyes as she bit down on the slice of lime he held carefully with his jeweled fingers.

***

The next morning, Y/N woke up in a hotel room that she didn’t recognize with a pounding headache and a swirling gut. It felt like she had been hit with a truck and she could barely pick her head up off the pillow.

She had so many questions about what had happened the night before. Where was she? Who let her drink that much? Whose clothes was she wearing? But most of all, what the hell happened after that fourth shot?

But she realized the worst was yet to come when she heard soft snoring coming from beside her. She knew that snoring well. It was the snoring that kept her up half the night for the last two months and the one that had almost driven her to suffocating her bus-mate in his sleep; the snoring that matched the crumbled black suit she just noticed in a ball on the floor.

It took every ounce of strength in her body to pull herself from the pillow and turn around in the bed to have her suspicions confirmed.

There he was.

His dark long eyelashes were fluttered down across the tops of his cheeks and his hair was going in every direction, skin clammy like his body was trying to rid itself of all the poison he had ingested the night before. The crumpled comforter was pushed down his stomach, his bare skin holding a sheen that helped define every dip or curve of his muscles and the tiniest bit of the band of his boxers peaked out to assure her that he at least wasn’t fully naked next to her.

Why were they in bed together? And why did he look so good? Oh my god, she thought as a possibility dawned on her. Did we sleep together?

“Harry,” she murmured softer than she intended, voice scratchy and mouth dry. The soreness at the back of her throat clued her into the copious amounts of screaming she must have done last night. He didn’t stir at her gentle coaxing, the light streaming through the windows making him look angelic as it covered him in a blanket of soft light while he continued to sleep.

It was a hard nudge to his chest that finally made him open his eyes, immediately releasing a groan she was sure she made when she regained consciousness too. He looked at her puzzled, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. He took an equally confused look around the hotel room before looking back at her. She watched as the gears slowly turned in his head until his eyes opened wide and he spring up into a sitting position to mirror hers.

“We didn’t,” he whispered hopefully. “Oh my god, did we?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face that matched her own.

“I have no idea,” she anxiously replied. “I was hoping you would know!”

“You don’t remember anything?”

“The last thing I remember was doing tequila shots with you.”

“I remember those.” He rubbed his eyes hard like it would somehow jog his memory. His eyebrows knit together, buried in thought as he searched his brain for a timeline. “I can follow the night up until we did karaoke.”

“We did karaoke?” she repeated incredulously and was met with a somber nod. “Do I even want to know what we sang?”

He shook his head slowly, shame clear on his face, before he finally mumbled. “We did ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

“Oh my god, no,” she whined, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. There were surely videos of them sloppily singing on top of a bar circulating online and she wasn’t sure how Jeff would be able to spin that one in a positive light.

“Where’s your phone?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eye as he reached for his own. “Maybe there’s something on there that can clue us in.” It took her a moment but she finally spotted it on the ground in the corner of the room. She said a silent prayer that it wasn’t dead or broken.

Forcing her heavy limbs out from under the covers she made her way towards the device, but not before she heard a confused sound coming from Harry. “How did you get my clothes?”

Looking down at herself and taking in the red lettering that read But Daddy I Love Him across her chest, it clicked that the t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts were his. But how they hell did she get into them?

“I think we’ve established at this point that I don’t know anything that happened after about midnight, Harry.” Her words came out laced with slight frustration. She hoped he knew she wasn’t annoyed with him, just their situation.

“Just a question, princess.”

She ignored his quip and began to search through her texts, call history, and photos, hoping to find anything at all that could help trace their steps through the night. She found nothing but a few selfies of them still at the club. One was the pair casually smiling, the next was one of him kissing her on the cheek that made her skin warm, but the final one made her snort out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“I have a picture on my phone of you with two martini olives shoved up your nose,” she spoke through hysterical laughter. “Definitely birthday post material if you ask me.”

“Let me see,” he demanded with an adorable scowl.

She passed her phone over to him, still letting a few chuckles fall past her lips. “I’m gonna change your name in my phone to ‘Olive Nose Styles.”

“You're cruel.”

“You’re the one that put olives up his nose and then posed for a picture!”

“Whatever,” he grumbled, turning attention back to his own screen to continue his investigation. “There’s nothing of use on my phone either.”

The two flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the frustrated confusion. There was so much of their night that had gone up into smoke, completely unaccounted for with no clues as to what they did. Each traced their steps over and over again in their heads as they hoped desperately for a single detail that would lead them down a path to bigger memories, but it never came.

“Are we going to have to call Jeff and ask him what happened?” she finally murmured.

“I think so.”

“He’s going to put us both in client timeout, isn’t he?”

“We’re probably already there,” he groaned as he picked up his phone and hit Jefe Jeff-e in his contact list, putting the call on speaker and resting it on his still bare chest. The man on the other end picked up almost immediately.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you.”

“Hi Jeff,” he groggily started then stopped, searching for the words that would make this all less uncomfortable. “Y/N and I have some questions about last night.”

Jeff let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, that doesn’t really surprise me after last night’s bar bill.”

“Um,” Harry hummed, stammering but unable to form any real words.

“You sing about sex for a living,” she hissed at the man next to her before yanking the phone off his chest. “Jeff,” she started, taking over the conversation for them both. “Do you know if we slept together?”

“Probably not. You both were pretty unconscious when I put you in the hotel room.” His words prompted a massive sigh from both of them, looking to each other to share a relieved smile.

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

“Jinx,” he smirked under his breath, prompting a ‘shut up’ from her.

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

“I stopped by the tour bus when I realized you two probably shouldn’t be trusted not to roll out of your top bunks. I got you some clothes to sleep in before we took you guys to the hotel.”

“But why Harry’s?”

It was Jeff’s term to get squirmy. “I felt weird going through your things.”

“But you were perfectly fine with going through mine?” Harry asked, only half joking.

“Absolutely,” he deadpanned. They were all quiet for a moment before Jeff began again. “You two really don’t remember anything else that happened?”

“Everything after about two is unaccounted for,” she confessed.

“Oh,” Jeff chuckled. “So, you don’t remember when you stuck your tongues down each other’s throats on the ride home?”

Fuck.

Her eyes raced up to Harry’s from the phone she had been staring at like it held all the secrets of the night before. His easily readable features displayed all his emotions that surely matched hers. His pupils had grown in surprise, taking over nearly all the green in his wide eyes, and an embarrassed blush tinted his cheeks in a red hot flush that had reached the tips of his ears. His eyes flashed to the blank wall in front of them, running a stressed hand through his curls, like if he wasn’t looking at her, he would be able to focus better on the newly revealed information.

She couldn’t say that she didn’t relate. Her mind often went blank when she looked at him too. But right now, it was racing, occupied by anxious thoughts and intense emotions she couldn’t quite place, but felt with her entire being.

Her inevitable downward spiral was interrupted when Harry stiffly cleared his throat. “Uh,” he started, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We’ll see you later.”

“Sounds good, love birds,” Jeff replied, a clear snark apparent in his voice. Neither of the pair dignified his teasing with a response, Y/N quickly ending the call.

Silence hung heavy in the air and she let her eyes hover over the phone for too long when she settled it down on the bed, unwilling to connect her eyes with his just yet. Harry always had a way of staring into her and revealing all her cards to him before she even knew them herself. She wanted to hold them close to her chest for a moment, protecting the heart that longed for him more than anything else in the world.

There were no words exchanged between the two for a while as they silently took turns in the bathroom and occupied their hands and thoughts by their phones. They walked on eggshells anytime one neared the other. A tension like this hadn’t existed since the very first day they met, the first day they had begun to pretend.

Maybe that's why Harry was being so quiet. Maybe he never wanted to cross that line of pretending like she did. Maybe she had been blinded by his generally friendly personality and tricked herself into thinking there was anything more than a charade between them. Maybe last night really was just a drunken mistake, no matter how much she wanted it to be more.

“Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t remember what happened last night,” she finally murmured from the opposite end of the room. She rested the side of her still heavy head and muscles against the wall, arms crossed in front of her as if they could keep her safe from the tension they had created. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of his t-shirt she was still dressed in.

“Why is it a good thing?” he almost immediately responded from the chair on the other side of the room he had settled himself into, running his hands along the satin pants of last night’s outfit he had put back on during their awkward shuffling around the room. He had even put physical space between them since they found out what happened, causing her heart to feel as if it was teetering on the edge of disintegrating.

“Well,” she stuttered, refusing to look at him and continuing to pick at her nail polish. “We’re just pretending so it would be weird if we really remembered it.”

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

“I don’t know,” she tried to maneuver her way around his response. “It might just be embarrassing to think about it.”

He let out a long and frustrated sigh, running his hands down his face. There was so much going on behind his eyes and she wished he would say something, anything, to break down the wall that hadn’t existed between them in months that was slowly reappearing.

“Do you regret it?” he asked bluntly, the abrupt question shocking her body to attention. “Do you regret any of this? Any of us?”

Did she regret drinking too much? Yes. Did she regret making out with him in front of their manager? Yes. Did she regret denying her feelings and pretending they didn’t exist for so long? Of course. But, did she regret falling in love with him? Never, not even for a second.

“No, I don’t,” she let out with a gentle shake of her head, no louder than a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

The words had barely left his lips before he crossed the room and crashed them into hers. The same fire she had felt on stage returned ten times over as his lips moved smoothly over hers, every neuron in her body lighting up like a switchboard. Her fingers reached up to curl into his hair and pull his lips impossibly closer to hers as her heart hammered in her chest with a passionate love she had kept under wraps for so long.

He tasted like the spicy peppermint toothpaste the hotel stocked in the bathroom and smelled like the tiny bottles of shampoo that rested on the side of the bathtub; but there was so much else about him that was completely unique–wholly irreplaceable and indescribable. He was just Harry.

Teeth clashed, lips were bitten, and hair was pulled as they took in every sensation the other created. His lips had been the only thought that captivated her mind since they were on stage the night before and her return to them did not disappoint. If her head wasn’t dizzy and her lungs not screaming at her for air, she would have stayed in that moment forever

When they finally disconnected, they stood against each other in a heaving and disheveled mess of heavy breathing and adoringly dazed smiles. She swore she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips that rested on his chest.

“That was nice,” he eventually murmured down at her through heavy breaths, a love drunk grin finding its way onto his swollen lips.

“Yeah, I agree,” she hummed breathlessly, her anxious thoughts quiet and calm for the first time she could remember since she met him.

“I’m kind of disappointed I don’t remember doing that the first time,” he chuckled softly at her, shaking his head lightly in embarrassment with his pink tinged cheeks on full display.

“That’s okay. We were ‘just practicing’ then, right?” A giggle left her lips as she used the words against him. The same words he had used every time they let a glimpse of their true affections for each other slip past their guarded and friendly facade.

His dimples were exposed when he smiled a giant grin and let out a knowing huff, piecing together that she had caught onto his trail of excuses. “Yeah, just practicing,” he repeated softly, before his tone turned sincere and genuine. “I don’t want us to pretend anymore.”

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers slid up his neck to beckon his lips back down to hers. “I never was.”

“Neither was I.” She watched a soft smirk appear on his lips as they hovered over hers. “Do you want to keep not practicing?”

“Depends,” she quipped, lips brushing over his as she spoke. “Am I better kisser than Taylor Swift?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!!

An extra for our babies can be found here!

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inspired-by-the-music · 5 years ago

Text

What SHINee Does For Your Birthday

requests are encouraged. please read the guidelines before submitting your request!

requested by our shinee anon

Note: Ash wrote all of these, but Mochi came up with almost all of the ideas. That’s why they call us a creative duo lol. Onew’s is probably the longest but that’s bc we’re weak for his comedic storylines lol

Jinki

Like an angel, when Jinki asked what you wanted for your birthday, you responded that you had everything you needed to be happy. Jinki smiled at your answer, but he was determined to do something special for you.

When he consulted the internet and then his friends, the general consensus was that handmade gifts were the best way to move your heart.

Perhaps Jinki should have accepted Taemin’s suggestion less eagerly.

“Have you heard about those painting classes where you drink wine and follow what the instructor does?” Taemin asked excitedly.

Jinki hadn’t heard about that, and he couldn’t understand why Taemin had, but he figured that you would be happy to receive something that he painted himself.

He wasn’t too embarrassed about being one of the only two men in a studio full of middle-aged women. However, a humiliated blush did stain his entire face about half an hour into the class when Taemin slid off his chair and onto the floor.

Maybe the older women were too engrossed in their own conversations or maybe they were too polite to gawk at Taemin. Nonetheless, Jinki failed to suppress his laughter as he watched Taemin rise to his feet unsteadily.

“Are you okay?”

All Taemin said in response was, “The wine is good.” Then, as he studied Jinki’s canvas, Taemin complimented, “Hey, that looks really good! Better than mine, at least—” Taemin gestured to his own work: a single sloppy red line.

“Just sit down,” Jinki said gently, noticing that the instructor was eyeing Taemin instead of continuing with the class.

To take the edge off of his mounting embarrassment, Jinki took a sip of his wine. Instantly, he spat it out, just narrowly missing his canvas. Glancing at Taemin judgmentally, Jinki hissed, “You think this is good? It’s horrible!”

Taemin scratched at the back of his neck as he reddened. “Oh— yeah, well, I thought your cup of wine was my bucket of water so I cleaned my brush in it.”

Jinki turned to fully face Taemin. He kept his voice an even whisper to avoid distracting everyone else. “And you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“At the moment, it didn’t seem that important,” Taemin shrugged. Then, recognizing Jinki’s rare glare, Taemin stuttered an excuse. “Plus, you looked really focused, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

As he blinked at Taemin, Jinki wondered if this was karma for ruining Minho’s anniversary. The karma wasn’t fully realized, however, until a week later when you opened your birthday present.

“Oh,” you said as you looked at a single red line— if it could really be called a line— on a canvas. Despite your confusion at the gift and Jinki’s bewildered expression, you smiled and began, “Thank—”

“That’s not the right thing,” Jinki blurted before seizing the canvas and scowling at it. “That’s Taemin’s. When I took him home after that class, I must have gotten our paintings mixed up—”

Because you had never seen Jinki so panicked, your mind raced to consider ways to make him feel better, and you ignored the urge to ask for more details about the painting class wherein Taemin— perfect Taemin— managed to produce such an odd piece of art.

You decided to interrupt Jinki’s rambling. “Wait, so Taemin did this? You know— there are tons of people would pay thousands, maybe even millions of dollars to own this. Why don’t we sell it and go on vacation?”

And when Jinki laughed at your suggestion, you realized that was the best present you could have received.

Jonghyun

Jonghyun might have gone overboard with his gifts for your birthday. After the showered you with countless flowers-- enough to make large bouquets for every room in the house-- he urged you to change out of your pajamas.

"Hurry, Y/N," he rushed you to finish eating the last pancake he made for you. "We gotta go to the studio!"

Jonghyun raced to the studio almost every day; that was a fact of life you had long accepted, so you hadn't expected your birthday to be an exception.

Still groggy and intent upon rolling over under the covers after breakfast, you grumbled through your mouthful of food, "Why do I have to go?"

Initially, Jonghyun whined at your reluctance to follow his meticulous plan to demonstrate his love for you. But when he turned away from your closet, holding your potential outfit, Jonghyun smiled at your childlike appearance.

As he laid your clothes out on the bed in front of you, he softly explained, "Because I'm recording something for you today. It would be really special for you to be there."

You didn't require much convincing when Jonghyun smiled at you like that. Once your drowsiness wore off, you were all too happy to follow Jonghyun’s plans for the day.

Key

You tried to brush it off when Kibum responded, "Oh, is that today?" when you texted him about your plans to celebrate your birthday by having lunch with your friends at some nearby restaurant.

You knew Key well enough to understand that he probably didn't mean to sound so uninterested. And although you understood that you hadn't been dating long-- only a few months-- and that you only briefly mentioned your upcoming birthday last week, you were disappointed that he didn't remember.

Still, you made the effort to cast those negative feelings aside as you accepted his invitation to have dinner at his place. You agreed to meet him at your favorite place: the rooftop of his apartment building, where you often spent hours watching the stars while talking about anything and everything.

It was surprising to find Jinki, Minho, and Taemin up there, too, wearing aprons-- Jonghyun humming into a microphone-- and Key sitting at a table set for two, scrolling through his phone.

Before they noticed you, you heard Minho brag, "I know how we can make things more entertaining while we wait," as he balanced a food tray on his head. "We should race to see who gets to the table first with the food on their head."

While Jinki laughed and attempted to balance his tray, Taemin timidly glanced at Kibum. He whispered as if trying to avoid attracting his attention, "But Key told us not to play around--"

Taemin was interrupted by Jonghyun's excited cheer. "Yah!" he pointed at you, announcing, "Y/N's here!"

Somewhat embarrassed by the attention, you avoided the guys' stares as you set toward Kibum. Unable to conceal your smile, you asked, "What is this? I thought you forgot about my birthday--"

"You really believed I forgot?" Key laughed. Then, with a soft smile he explained, "I only said that so you wouldn't catch on to this surprise."

Minho

When Jinki offered to help Minho with your birthday gift, Minho was reluctant to accept.

"You already stole my reservations," Minho reminded somewhat playfully. "Now are you trying to steal Y/N?"

"What? No!" Jinki blushed at the accusation; it was likely this reaction that encouraged Minho to continue teasing him. Nonetheless, Jinki stuttered, "No, I just-- recently, Taemin ruined my girlfriend's birthday present. He didn't mean to, so I can't be mad, but made me realize how bad you must have felt when I ruined your anniversary."

Unsure of how to react to such an authentic apology, Minho hummed, "Oh," and he didn't think to ask what happened with Taemin.

"So I made reservations at that restaurant," Jinki said. "Just give them my name, and you should get in without a problem."

And you thought it was odd that after Minho proudly escorted you to that familiar fancy restaurant, he gave the name "Jinki" to the hostess. You reasoned that it was likely related to the Anniversary fiasco.

Because you were happy to see Minho smile at the chaotic memory for the first time, you decided not to ask about it. Instead, you said, "Thank you for bringing me here."

You mirrored Minho's smile when he said, "Happy Birthday, Y/N. I'm glad I get to have this memory with you after all."

Taemin

Taemin wanted to make your first birthday in your shared apartment to be special. In the early morning, while you were still asleep, he set his plan into motion.

Careful not to wake you, Taemin tiptoed to his closet where he pulled photographs off of the top shelf and delicately eased out already inflated balloons.

He sat on the floor at the foot of the bed to work on attaching the pictures to the balloons' strings. At the start of the task, the moon was hung high, but by the time he finally finished, the sun was rising; this was partially because of how many pictures he'd printed, but mostly because he kept getting distracted.

Here was the picture you'd taken the day you met after Minho brought you to practice because you were desperate to watch your brother at work. The memory was years old, and much had changed since then, but just recalling it-- how politely you'd watched everyone perform, how you'd erupted in applause at the end, how you smiled as you asked for a picture with everybody-- made Taemin's heart race just as it had that day.

There was the picture you took that time you hid from everyone else backstage because neither of you wanted an audience for your first kiss, but neither of you could wait for another opportunity. You hadn't captured the kiss on film, but you did snap a remarkable shot of Jonghyun's slackjawed expression upon finding you in Taemin's dressing room. Although Taemin could do nothing but blush around Jonghyun at the time, now he could barely contain his laughter as he remembered that moment.

And here, still in his hands, was the most recent picture. It was taken on your trip to Disneyland with Minho and his girlfriend, sometime after your relationship had been discovered, and sometime after Minho had given his official blessing. Taemin couldn't stop staring at it because it marked the first time he felt like a part of your family.

When you woke up, Taemin was sure to photograph your reaction to his surprise so he could remember the way you smiled at him forever.

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prettyyoungtragedy · 6 years ago

Text

Written in the Stars (8)

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

Warnings: bad language, and violence.

A/N: This chapter was a fucking delight to write! I swear it might be my favorite one haha! We finally get the moment you all have been waiting for since these two met and of course the ending it just ANGST CITY! If you liked it throw me a reblog or a comment and I will love you forever!

This was generously Beta’d by my beta @suz-123 who helped write this soft chapter bc she’s so soft!!! love ya

Links are being a bitch so you can find the whole fic in my WIP masterlist in my bio!

Taglist is closed, Sorry guys!

The little black envelope that sat on your coffee table was glaringly obvious that it wanted your attention. Bucky had placed it there while you were sitting on the couch working on your laptop, sorting through emails and trying to get a little work done.

It had been a week since the release of Doctor Reinhardt and it seemed Bucky had doubled up your protection. He was always hovering when you were at work, or at lunch, or when you stepped out of the ladies room, it was tiring but you kept quiet through it all knowing he was just trying to be as thorough as he could at his job.

He eased up a little when you were at the safe house, leaving you alone to work in peace but every few hours he would check up on you, or pretend he had something to do in the same room you were just to see if you were okay.

Not that you didn’t enjoy having him around constantly, he was an easy conversation and devastatingly pretty to look at but you missed your friends and the life you had before this whole mess.

So when the black envelope arrived with pretty gold detailing on it, you knew it was just begging to be looked at.

With a sigh, you set your laptop beside you on the couch and picked up the envelope. Breaking the pretty gold seal that held it shut, you pulled out the invite that was inside.

It was from the NY Historical society hosting the annual Gala dinner. You went to it every year, and of course, it went hand in hand with being part of that society. You looked at the invite for a moment longer wondering how Bucky was going to react to you wanting to go to this event.

Bucky sat nearby his face concentrated on the file before him, he was doing some serious thinking as his hand rested on the bottom half of his face, eyes almost squinting at whatever he was reading.

“Bucky?” You said looking at him,

“Hmm?” he replies not looking up from his work,

“Can I go to a party?”

“No.”

“Okay, I am still going,”

Bucky tore his gaze away from the file before him to look annoyedly at you. “What?”

“I said I am still going,” You rose from your seat on the couch, slightly defiantly and walked over to where he sat, placing the invite beside him, “I go every year and I am not missing it, this is important to me.”

“And keeping you alive is important to me, so it’s a hard no from my side.” He retorted picking up the invite and handing it back to you without so much even as a second glance at it.

“I am allowed to have a life Bucky!” You exclaimed, “I can’t just work, and sit in this apartment all the time. The only people I ever see these days are ones you pre-approved and none of which are my friends and I feel like a prisoner in my own life!”

“How many times do I have to say it’s for your own-”

“Safety yeah yeah I know, same shit as always. But you can’t keep me here forever you know at some point I’m going to want to go back to my old life, and in fact, starting with this Gala.” You cut him off,

Bucky stood up, his height towering over you as annoyance flashed in his eyes, “For fuck's sake, why are you being difficult? Do you know how dangerous public gatherings are?!”

“Yes but this is a Gala dinner with state senators and fucking ambassadors, there will be security!”

“It’s an open invitation to put a target on your back,”

“Not if you go with me,”

At this suggestion, Bucky vehemently shook his head, “Absolutely not, rule number two.”

“Bucky,” You said exasperatedly, “Meet me halfway here please,”

“No.”

“Fine if you won’t go with me, I will take Steve or maybe Sam,” You folded your arms over your chest glaring up at him.

He stands toe to toe with you now, and you can almost feel the annoyance just radiating off him. Bucky clenches his fists at his side and takes a deep breath, he doesn’t want to argue with you, but he’s slowly losing patience at your insistence at going to this event, and clearly, you weren’t going to budge on this one.

He should have just ripped up that damned invite instead of giving it to you.

“Fine, I will take you but you will follow every single one of my instructions, and if I think that there is even the slightest hint of danger, we’re leaving. Got it?” He snapped,

“I hate you,”

“Good,”

And that was the end of the conversation.

~~~

The night of the Gala came with anticipated excitement for you, it had been months since you’d been able to see your friends or even attend anything that required you to pull out your best outfits. Lately, it was a steady stream of casual wear and workout wear, no diamonds or expensive champagne paired with delicious caviar.

You missed it and to say you were excited for tonight would have been an understatement.

You had barely been able to focus at work, you were all too excited to put on a fancy dress and dance the night away drinking champagne and enjoying the company of your fellow society members.

The occasion called for a new dress, which had been delivered to the apartment upon your request from Barneys. Sam had no idea what was going on when he walked in to find you surrounded by racks of dresses, and rows of designer shoes.

He merely glanced over the mess of expensive laces, and silks in the living room and walked right back out.

Once you’d chosen a dress, Bucky had come to the apartment and damn near had a heart attack when he found the jewelers from Harry Winston you’d asked to come over in the safe house. It took every bit of self-control for him not to yell at you until he was blue in the face.

But the second they had left, he lost his shit with you. Of course, you didn’t let this sour your mood, you brushed him off saying that it was fine and you had known these people your whole life.

It didn’t help improve his mood.

While you were all excitement and anticipation, Bucky, on the other hand, was having a god awful time with this whole ordeal.

He had informed Sam and Steve of this event and spent hours going over the entire layout of the Historical Society building in an effort to ensure your safety. He inquired on the security at the event and planned every exit route and worst-case scenario in his head. Sam and Steve assured him that everything would be fine, they would arrange to have Natasha and Scott on standby if anything went sour and Tony would be attending this party too.

None of this eased his worry, Bucky still had this dreaded feeling that something was going to go wrong because he missed something and it was torturing him.

~~~

“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Natasha asked incredulously as she appeared in the doorway of his room at the tower.

“God, not you too.” he groaned after having just been annoyed by Sam about what he was wearing.

“You’re going to stand out like a sore thumb,” She stated walking into the room carrying a black garment bag.

“Don’t care,”

“Well, I do care so strip.” She ordered tossing the bag at him. Bucky caught it with ease, looking quizzically at her before she sighed and moved forward opening the garment bag in his hands.

“Nooope.” Bucky shook his head the moment he saw the contents inside, “Absolutely not.”

“James-”

“I refuse, I am not wearing this penguin suit. Absofuckinglutely not.”

“Too bad, You don’t have a choice. Steve and Sam are wearing one too, so get your ass moving or you’ll be late to pick her up and I don’t think your princess likes to be kept waiting.”

Natasha doesn’t let Bucky argue any further, she grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him towards the bathroom to get changed. For all his defiance and obstinance Bucky could never argue with Natasha Romanoff.

~~~

“I feel like a fucking moron,” Bucky muttered, fidgeting irritably with the silk bowtie that Natasha had tied around his collar in a perfect bow.

“You look fine, Bucky.” Steve chided as the pair got onto the elevator, Steve pushing the button on the floor to the safe house.

“I never said I don’t look fine, in fact, I look like a million bucks. I said I feel like a fucking moron, there’s a difference,”

Steve chuckled, “Okay then stop feeling like a fucking moron,”

“Can’t believe we agreed to do this,”

“You agreed to do this,” Steve corrected him,

“Don’t be a semantical ass,”

“Just put a smile on your face, escort her to this party, be nice and everything will be fine.”

“Everything will be fine,” Bucky mimicked Steve’s voice, childishly pulling a face at his best friend,

“You’ve got a stick up your ass, you know that.”

“And you’ve got self-righteous knowitall-ness living in yours,”

Steve punched Bucky on the shoulder, and Bucky shoved him back. The pair might have been a century old but they were still scrappy with each other like they were teenagers.

~~~

The moment you heard the front door to the apartment open, you grabbed the black satin purse that you’d paired with your dress and slipped on the gorgeous pair of satin black Manolo Blahnik’s with a silver buckle on the front, and walked out of the bedroom.

As you stepped out into the hallway, you see the two super soldiers standing there seemingly arguing with each other. They looked gorgeous in their black tuxedos but Bucky, Bucky looked just sinful, he even brushed his hair to your amazement. Bucky’s back is towards you, Steve sees you first and he hits Bucky’s shoulder alerting him of your presence.

They both turn towards you now and you watch their faces as they take in your outfit.

It was a deep wine red dress, thin straps, and a deep V neckline, perfectly fit over your breasts cinched in at the waist and cascading over your figure with a silky finish that moved like water when you walked and a long slit up to your upper thigh exposing your leg as you did. You’d paired it with the sparkliest diamond necklace you could find and teardrop diamond earrings.

To say the least, it was a distracting dress.

“Wow,” you hear Bucky say.

Steve hits him with the back of his hand in the chest lightly at his response to you and both of them quickly recover when you smile at them. That was the reaction you were looking for,

“Evening boys, don’t you look dashing,” You grinned at them,

Steve cleared his throat and nodded at you, “You look great,” he complimented you,

“Don’t I just,” You give him a quick twirl before looking at Bucky waiting for his compliment but he doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you.

“Ready to go?” Steve asked, frowning at Bucky for a moment.

“Oh god yes.” You replied eagerly.

~~~

The New York Historical Society is known for throwing the most lavishly stunning parties, tonight was no exception.

As you stepped out of the car, the flash of cameras go off and the sound of people calling your name. You immediately feel Bucky tense in front of you as he held out his hand to help you out the car, clearly all the attention you’re getting stressed him out.

Steve is already by your side, offering you his arm to escort you towards the building. You slip a hand around his hulking arm and spare Bucky an apologetic glance but he isn’t looking at you, his eyes are moving across the area with practiced precision. Sam is beside him now, both of them mirroring each other's actions as Steve began to lead you towards the building.

The moment you walked into the party your breath was taken away, it was all white and crystal. The chandeliers decorated with perfectly crafted snowflakes that glittered and spun gently in the air, a tall champagne tower stood in the center of the room and the servers were all dressed in white with silver accents. The theme was winter in summer, and it was perfect.

As soon as you walked in, you spotted one of your friends who was already excitedly waving you over to where she stood.

“I’ll be right back,” You said to Steve who nodded and lets you walk off.

Behind him, Bucky almost immediately began to protest but Steve cut him off with a look, and he falls silent watching you walk off towards your friends.

“We can’t stand together,” Sam said looking around the room, noticing the looks the three of them were garnering,

“Yeah disperse, but keep an eye on her.” Steve agreed, “Bucky go join her or hover or whatever,”

Bucky doesn’t argue he nodded tersely and moved in your direction, his eyes on you at all times.

You were animatedly talking to your friends Lola and Kate, he knew them from the thorough background searches he had done on both of them. Lola was a wannabe socialite, her position at your company was only such because of you. She lived on the Upper West Side in a two-story townhouse paid for of course by you, and Kate was a natural born socialite. She came from wealth and was dating wealth. She was proud and haughty but spoke to Bucky with a voice dripping like honey. He knew women like her, they fuck men they deem beneath their status to get a thrill, it disgusted him.

Your choice in friends was poor.

Bucky moved to stand behind you, your eyes catch him for a second and the happy smile on your face puts him at ease for a moment before you looked away again and his stoic expression settled again.

A few hours and a couple of glasses of champagne later, you’re letting go a little more. Laughing and talking to the various guests you knew. Bucky followed you everywhere, he was this silent wall of brooding and angst that stood behind you, arms crossed and scowling. Whenever you talked to someone their eyes would cautiously roam to him behind you and then back to you with a questioning look, you never bothered to answer any of their questions.

You didn’t want to call Bucky your hired help, it just felt wrong so instead, you chose to ignore the questioning looks.

“Dance with me, Sergeant Barnes?” Kate said, slightly tipsy, and clutching onto one of Bucky’s bulging biceps.

“I don’t dance,” He replied coolly taking her hand off his arm,

“Oh come on, a dapper man like yourself. Surely they taught you a few moves back in your day, I’m sure you charmed the panties off all the girls,”

“Nope.” Was all he said,

“I don’t believe that for a second, you’re devastatingly gorgeous,”

“Thank you.”

“So are you single, Sergeant?” Kate’s insistence at keeping up a conversation with Bucky made you feel bad for him and you were about to step in but the question intrigued you so you waited for him to answer.

“I don’t discuss my personal life with complete strangers,” He looked at her with a deadpan expression,

“I am not a stranger, I’ve known you for months now.” She chided, becoming frustrated as she wasn’t getting anywhere with him.

“Really? I barely remember you,”

His response makes you almost choke on the champagne you’d just sipped. Kate opened her mouth to respond but you quickly cut in, grabbing Bucky’s arm and tugging him away from the table.

“Come dance with me,” You instructed, and to your amazement he obeys.

You lead Bucky towards the dance floor, where other guests clad in their gorgeous finery all sway and step along to the gorgeous sounds of Franki Valli being played by the band nearby.

As you stepped onto the dance floor, Bucky took your hand in his, metal arm sliding around your waist as he pulled you close and he looked down at you. Your hand on his shoulder, the other feeling the heat of his palm against yours.

The sweet sound of Franki Valli’s Can't Take My Eyes Off You sets the tone for your dance. Bucky is a wonderful dancer, he steps perfectly to the beat of the song and leads you wonderfully across the dance floor. You feel the eyes of the other guests on the two of you but Bucky doesn’t seem to notice his focus is entirely on you.

You looked into those gorgeous starlight eyes of his, and your heart skips a beat. This man was going to ruin you, you could just feel it. Everything about Bucky irritated you but by god, you somehow adored this idiot.

He looked so so good tonight, the way his lips curved into a small smile, the look in his eyes as he led you through the dance. You wanted to kiss him.

Oh, how you wanted to kiss him so badly at that moment.

And when the song ended you barely even registered him stop moving, you’d been holding onto him so tightly. You looked up at him breathlessly his face inches from yours, your heart hammering hard in your chest and that stupid watch on your wrist starts vibrating alerting you of your increased heart rate.

“I thought you don’t dance,” You murmured breathlessly,

“I don’t,” Came his equally breathless reply,

“Then what was that?”

Bucky leaned in a little closer, his mouth at the shell of your ear before he whispered,

“You.”

The graveled sound of his voice sends a lustful shiver down your spine and you closed your eyes at the closeness of his mouth to your bare skin. When he pulled back loosening his hold on you, you felt yourself snap back to reality as he guided you off the dance floor again.

“I need the restroom,” You said feeling flustered by that dance, and Bucky just nodded his hand on your elbow as you moved through the room.

Meanwhile, Steve’s blue eyes trailed after the two of you. A frown on his face as he watched the interaction between you two and he felt unease settle in his chest. Bucky was playing a dangerous game, losing focus and Natasha had warned him about this.

“Steve,” Sam said beside him, also looking at the two of you walking off together.

“Yeah?”

“We got a problem,”

“Yeah, yeah we fuckin’ do.” The Captain muttered shaking his head.

Bucky was a god damn fucking idiot.

~~~

The second you’re both clear of the crowded room and you walk into the empty corridor, you turned towards Bucky. You need to tell him how you feel right now, but that stupid watch is already betraying all your feelings.

“Bucky-” You started to say but he doesn’t let you finish. He placed his hands on your waist and practically slammed you into the wall behind you, your hands tangled in his hair, his lips at your neck, he breathes you in.

“Fuck my life, you smell so good,” he groaned his tongue tracing the skin just below your ear before he placed a kiss to the skin, “You look so fucking beautiful tonight,”

You feel a hot flush run straight through you at the sound of the want in his voice, you closed your eyes and sighed softly. Your hands sliding down to grip his face and pull his lips up against yours.

That first kiss is fucking phenomenal, pure straight unadulterated splendor. Bucky’s soft warm lips find yours and it’s like every other kiss you’d ever had never existed, it was both heartbreakingly amazing and intensely emotional as it rips apart your soul and puts it back together all in one breath.

You had thought about kissing him for so long that every expectation you had was thrown out thw window and replaced by the breathlessness and splendor of this first kiss.

The breath is ripped from your lungs when you part your lips slightly and his tongue begins to explore your mouth. He pressed his body against yours and groaned when you pulled him as close as you possibly could.

It’s like straight fire is injected into your veins as heat flooded your body from his kiss, and then he breaks it with a sharp intake of breath.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I-”

“Bucky,” you interrupt him by placing your hand over his mouth, his eyes giving you a questioning look, “Take me home, now.”

The demand in your voice has him weak at the knees, and all he does is nod before he grabbed your hand and led you back toward the gala.

~~~

The entire car ride back to the safe house is filled with tension so thick you felt like you could cut it with a knife. You sat in the back seat of the car with Sam, Steve in the front with Bucky driving and every few minutes his eyes would meet yours and the wild lust in them was leaving you breathless.

As soon as Bucky parked the car in the basement, you practically dashed out of the car. Not waiting for Sam or Steve both of whom give Bucky a look of disapproval but say nothing.

“Should we come up?” Steve asked as the four of you waited for the elevator in the basement of the building,

“No it’s fine, sweep aft and I’ll secure the apartment,” Bucky shook his head,

Your heart jumped as you looked at him, he stood beside you, and his fingers brushed against yours. Sam and Steve don’t say anything when they see this, instead, they nod at their friend and watch as the two of you stepped onto the elevator together.

The second the doors closed, Bucky’s mouth is on yours backing you up against the wall of the elevator. You moaned against his mouth, his hands exploring your body, you’re flustered and breathless when the elevator dings and the doors open on the safehouse floor.

“God damn fucking watch,” you muttered as the watch on your wrist went crazy while he was kissing you,

Bucky chuckled and shook his head at your reaction, the two of you getting off the elevator. His brain not registering the fact that you had skipped a few steps in front of him in the hallway. You turned around a smile on your face as you said something but he wasn’t paying attention.

You looked so fucking pretty, it was distracting him. Everything about you was distracting him, the way your body looked in that dress, the gentle curve of your back, the way the diamonds accented your beauty and glittered against your skin.

“I’m in the mood for ice cream,” You said as the two of you walked up to the front door of the apartment, the sudden subject change has him confused but he goes with it. He’s got a one track mind at that moment, he wants you in that dress saying his name over and over.

“Sure we can get some if you’d like,” Bucky replied, his hand reaching out for you when he realized you were going to open the door before he got there.

“I want to go to-”

Then he hears the familiar click and the sound of a ring falling to the floor before the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. A surge of terror torpedos through him and his eyes widened for a split second his metal arm grabbing you and yanking you back seconds before the explosion rocked the apartment.

It felt as if everything moved in slow motion, first you felt the heat wave that swept through the area then the pain of the debris that came flying towards you and Bucky’s metal arm yanking you toward him. Your body collides with something hard and the air is knocked from your lungs and then darkness.

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