#bc my butt crack and back was hurting from sitting for so long

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou is adamant about not doing anything for his birthday. He does this every year, and you usually do something for him anyway, something small. You might have a picnic or go hiking with him or just stay in bed watching his favorite movies.

He doesn’t want to do anything for his birthday ever. And this year, you respect his wishes.

When he wakes up, he expects streamers and balloons to litter the room. Maybe you walking in half naked with a tray of breakfast for him. He expects something, even though he’s adamant about having nothing. So he’s a little….surprised? Disappointed? When he wakes up and has…nothing.

Bakugou gets up and pads into the kitchen and is greeted by a regular sight—you sitting in your usual chair with a warm mug and scrolling through your phone. You perk up when he enters though, smiling at him, getting up from your seat as you hand him his protein shake. You kiss his lips gently, whispering against his mouth,

“Good morning, my love. Happy birthday.” And continue on with your normal routine. Bakugou blinks, surveys the kitchen once more, looks over the counters and peeks into the trash can. He figures you must’ve made him another one of those big birthday breakfast’s, but it’s still the same regular breakfast you always make.

The rest of the day goes on like that. Everyone treating him as they usually do on his birthday—overwhelmingly and annoying, and he hates it a little more than he usually does. Were you upset with him? Did he do something the night before for his birthdays festivities that he never wants to be canceled?

He perks up when you text him, but it’s just to ask if he wants chicken tonight instead of fish. He almost breaks the screen on his phone when he replies chicken.

By the time Bakugou gets home, he’s irritated beyond all hell. Yes, he knows he told you how much he didn’t wanna be celebrated today but that didn’t mean to do this. To do nothing. He takes a few breaths before he unlocks the front door, sighing as he enters with his head down, immediately kicking off his boots.

“Happy birthday, handsome!” You shout when he enters, making his head immediately whip up. He’s shocked at the sight; you standing in the middle of your living room in that one outfit he said he loved the most on you, with orange and black streamers and balloons decorating the space. The lights are dimmed and his favorite song is playing (the one that blasted on the speakers the night he took you home after your first date), there’s an assortment of food on the table, and what looks like a homemade cake in the middle. He’s frozen at the sight, and is only pulled out of his stupor when you pad over to him and bring his face down to yours.

“I know every year you say you don’t want anything for your birthday, but I couldn’t help myself. Is this okay?” You ask gently, cupping his cheeks, smudging the soot from his skin. Bakugou stares down at you with the softest look he could muster, smiling gently as he pulls you in close to him, kissing you hard until you both lose your breath.

“It’s perfect.” Bakugou answers simply, pecking your forehead as he pulls you in close until your nose is pressed against his collarbone. You take in his scent before sighing, pulling away as you pat at his chest.

“Good. Now go take a bath so we can eat and open your presents.” You nod to the back of the house, going to pull away but Bakugou squeezes you tight to him. He looks at you, seriously, and it almost worries you, before he whispers softly into the air,

“I love you.” His voice sincere and sweet, and it makes you smile so hard your cheeks burns. You peck him once, twice, before speaking against his lips,

“I love you more.”

And after that, Bakugou doesn’t dread his birthday as much. Not if he gets to spend it with you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still friends with them?”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

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

“You like me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’m in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Is that even a question?!

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

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

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

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

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

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

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

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

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

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

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

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

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

“Harry! Please!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, good idea.”

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

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

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

“I’ve just been thinking.”

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

“About what you said about your parents.”

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

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

“There’s a reason for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what if they don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

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

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

And then there’s the absolute worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you end the call.

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

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

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

“Halo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

Hi Taylor!

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

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

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

“He… pulled out for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

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

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

“I do,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

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

[jangofctts]

omg I just read so much of your writing and I’m 🥺🥰🥲🥵 the absolute royalty shit that we see here today. i’ve recently discovered I am very into ~thigh riding~ so do u have any thots on how our boys (especially our clone babes) feel about it? much obliged

IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY KEJHKJRH SO HERE YOU GO OMG

boba: yEs--boba absolutely adORES when you crawl into his lap and straddle his thigh. he’ll either pat his lap and invite you up or it’s one of those times when he’s intentionally ignoring you and you have force your way onto his lap so he has to pay attention. imo the first time you ride his thigh you weren't intending to, you wanted to fuck him but with boba, if you want something from him he’s gonna do it his way or twist it into something to tease you. so he’ll say something like “if you’re so desperate, ride my thigh” or maybe “ride my thigh and then we’ll see if you deserve my cock.” he’ll sit back and enjoy the show with a smug grin, one hand gripping your hip. he’s not controlling your pace, it’s mostly just there as an anchor bc you’re gonna be doing all the work. you’re lucky if you get to ride his bare thigh, but most of the time he’s got pants on so they always end up soaked after you cum and boba always teases you for it, “ruined another pair of pants, little one” but really he isn't even one to talk, he’ll be rock hard and leaking through his pants too. he’ll also nine times out of ten put his fingers or thumb into your mouth to suck on while he flexes and pushes the hard muscle of his thigh up to your cunt. he likes that satisfaction of knowing that even his thigh can make you shudder and whine his name--a bit of a power trip esp if he’s sitting on the throne. he’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards if you’re a good little princess for him          

din: din wants you to ride the beskar thigh plating. he doesn't realize it’s a thing he finds arousing until you sit over his thigh and he sees the heat from your thighs fog up the metal while your arousal smears over the shiny beskar. literally it’s like something just CRACKS in him and he goes feral for it. a dark thrill that comes from seeing your cunt drip over his precious armor, something so sacrilegious that shouldn't be arousing but it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. sure, it’s a bit cold at first but the more you get into it the quicker it heats up--it’s slippery too, not a lot of friction unless you drag your clit over the seams of the armor, but with din’s hands holding onto your hips and dragging you over his thigh, it’s not long before you cum. din is gonna be encouraging you the whole time, just a constant flow of praise and little moans of his own. he might bury a hand in your hair or slip off his glove and touch your clit when your hips roll up into his hand. he’d loose his mind if you lended a hand and palmed him through his pants. he doesn't even care if he ruins his trousers, he’s just so...fixated on the hypnotic motions of your hips rolling over his thigh, your wetness dripping off the plating and onto the floor. he might focus on your mouth, parted with gasping moans or how they roll the syllable of his name. he likes to watch you come undone like this, shuddering and whiney as you cum and eventually roll off his thigh. he probably busts a nut right then and there if you start to roll your tongue over the beskar, happily cleaning up the mess you made. but....sometimes...lick it off himself just to get a taste of you       

paz: big boy blue ALSO likes when you ride his beskar, but he likes it better when the armor is off and he gets to feel your wetness for himself. he has big ol’ beefy thighs and likes when you straddle one and start to ride him like that. imo he likes it when youre pressed up right near his cock so when you roll forward your own thigh brushes against his cock. it’s also just easier for him to grab your hips, set a pace and watch you squirm and whine. ngl he’s more interested in fucking you, so he’ll get cheeky and start jerking his thigh or holding you in place while he circles his thumb over your clit. p much will sabotage your wild ride and convince you to slide onto his cock instead. though,....if you were to tie him up, tease him bye riding his thigh, he might like that :)  

rex: oH rexY BOY--listen, rex has heard ALL about thigh riding, or rather what the clones like to call it, “paint job”. he doesn't understand the big deal, thinks that it’d be a complete hassle to clean and what not. in my oPiNiOn he’ll be sitting with you in an empty break room or on a couch, you both have feelings for each other but nothing's been said yet. somehow the topic of paint jobs come up and he tells you what he thinks and how it “couldn't possibly feel good, blah blah blah”. you just roll your eyes and you ask if he’s even tried it. he definitely blushes and mumbles out a no and with a leap of faith you ask him if he wants you to ride his thigh. baby boy rex gets very shy and embarrassed about it but he’s not gonna say no. so you’ll flash him a little grin and peel off your pants and your over shirt, make rex relax against the back of the couch/chair and sit over his plastoid covered thigh. even though when you start to grind on his thigh you still have your underwear on, rex with pick a corner of the room to just stare at. it’s not because he doesn't like you, he’s just incredibly shy and afraid he’ll cum in his pants if he looks at you. you gotta cup his jaw and force him to look at you. when that happens his eye will immediately drop to between your legs and just moan at the sight. he gets it now. seeing your arousal that’s already leaking through the thin fabric and staining the blue and white plastoid--he has to grip the fucking sidearm to anchor himself. his armor is one of the only things that he owns and is proud of, so seeing you riding his thigh, moaning and whimpering his name he goes wild for that shit. unfortunately he does end up cumming in his pants but eh fuck it. it was worth it   

cody: he likes when you ride his thigh in semi public places like the 79′s, debrief room, gunships, you name it. imma explain the 79′s scenario bc im a whore but anyway, cody likes to bring you on dates there, one because the drinks are free for him, two it’s dark and so unless someone is really looking at the two of you, it’s pretty secluded. he always chooses a back corner table and after a couple drinks you start to get handsy--nuzzling his neck and wiggling your fingers between the gaps separating his thigh and codpiece. it alWAYS starts like that. cody will chuckle, push his nose into your neck and nibble a line up to your ear, then bite down onto the cartilage. in that dark, rumbly voice he might sigh “such a depraved little creature. we’re in public”. but you can feel his smile and how is pulse quickens under your fingertips. cody will sigh and shake his head as he pulls you onto his lap, bUT--he’s gonna have you with your back to his chest plate, your dress/skirt/pants rolled up or down just barely in the view of anyone who glances over or looks a little closer. it’d be no secret what you both were up to but cody likes that. dude doesn't have any shame and so he’ll wrap an arm over your hip, push you panties to the side and slide his fingers through your folds. once they're coated in your arousal he might pop them into his mouth or yours, clean them off then flex his thigh onto your pussy. when he asks you to grind on his thigh you readily agree. while you ride his thigh he’ll nibble at your throat and suck bruises onto your skin, either watching your wet pussy slide over the plastoid armor or on the look out in case one of his brothers comes near. one time, just as you started to cum, a couple fresh shiny’s got an entire eyeful of you arching and burying your nose into cody’s neck as he rolled his fingers over your clit. safe to say they were a bit spooked--but of course, cody thought it was the funniest thing and couldn't stop laughing even if you were close to tears with embarrassment. now....he doesn't invite anyone to watch, but he wouldn't say no to a few prying eyes          

wolffe: I feel like with wolffe, it’s gonna be right after a mission--one of you might've almost died or gotten real hurt so he’s not thinking about fucking you properly--he just want his mouth on yours, hands buried in your hair as he pins you against the wall. I dont think he initially meant for you to ride his thigh, but when he wedges it between your legs and you moan into his mouth the second he increases the pressure, he freezes. he’ll do it again and when it receives the same reaction from you he smirks and tugs on your hair and might say smthn like “you like that? if you wanted to ride my thigh you could've asked sooner”. he’s either focused on your face or on your pussy, just soaking up all your little reactions or twitches when you roll your cunt over the plastoid. he'll have both hands on your hips, helping you grin up on him, while you either cup his face or grip his arm. either way youre in for a wild fucking ride--wolffe tbh wants to see his armor dripping by the time he’s done with you. sO do nOT be surprised if he just, doesn't let you stop, pushes you to keep going until he’s satisfied. imo I think he’ll make you lick it up after, or just in general would really Like It if you run your tongue over any part of his armor. he likes to be Appreciated :)

wrecker (im sorry I just nEEDed to include him kejkejh): honestly since baby boy wrecker is uh, so big, thigh riding is some of the first things you try with him. you’ll both be butt ass naked bc it’s just easier to explore like this, and while wrecker is eager he knows he has to think about his strength in order not to overwhelm or hurt you unintentionally. he’s a bit of a goof ball so when you straddle his thigh and bring his thicC fingers to your cunt he’ll smile and say some shit like “wow, you’re wet” or like “is it always this wet/soft?” he doesn't mean for it to be teasing, it's more like he’s just stating a fact bc he’s curious about you. you just nod and say it’s all for you, baby/only for you. the second you put your cunt over his thigh he’ll curse and clamp his hands around your hips or ribcage, and just to make the experience all that better for him, you’ll jerk him off while you ride him. wrecker is very vocal/loud and so you’ll know exactly what you’re doing that he likes--he’ll probably tell you how pretty you look, or how good you smell etc., that bOY IS SO FULL OF LOVE and just wants to tell you! it doesn't take long for him to spill into your hand, he shakes and no doubt wakes up half the barrack/ship but who the fuck cares. you just smile and continue to ride his thigh, chasing your own thigh. once he recovers a bit, you can grab his fingers and show him how you like to be touched. he’s a surprisingly quick learner with this and so it doesn't take long for you to cum. afterwards he’ll run his fingers over his thigh, collect the mess you left and taste you and maybe say “you should ride my face. can we do that?”     

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Horse info 101

A horse girl’s guide to the basics for fic writing with an important and lively horse involved:

This got kinda long I’m kinda sorry but not at all lol 

There's three basic gaits (speeds with different patterns of hoof-fall/leg movements

Walking is the slowest and is a four beat gait, meaning each foot hits the ground at a different time. Usually the same pace as a walking human when the horse is calm. Some breeds can walk HELLA fast though. Most horses will fill the same spot/hole where their front hoof was with their back hoof on the same side. If they overstep they clip their fetlock (joint lookin bit above the hoof) or pastern (bit between the hoof and fetlock) and can injure themselves. 

Now trotting. The middle gait, a person can jog next to a trot at a comfortable pace but if you push them a little horses can trot faster than your average HS track endurance athlete. Once again some breeds can trot HELLA fast. This is a two beat gait in that two diagonally opposite legs are moving in unison. In some english saddles (I’ll get into that later if we have class time) it’s easier to post while the horse is trotting rather than sit for the gait. That just means you stand up in the irons (stirrups on an english saddle, we’ll also cover that later) at the same time that one of the front legs moves forward. 

Also, see how the trotting horse’s head looks? That’s how they travel when they’re relaxed and attentive. The tucked head thing you see Roach doing is because there’s tension on the reigns and Henry learned to ride for an english seat not a western pleasure seat (might get into those but they’re really not important)

Time for the Canter/Lope. This is a three beat gait so that means two legs are moving in unison and the other two are not. Horses canter/lope fast. This is the go-time gait. Some performance/dressage horses are trained to canter extremely slow but if we’re talking transportation trained horses they’re not gonna be that kind of slow. Your average human is not gonna be able to keep up with this for long if at all. This varies in speed too. There's a rather casual canter seen in the gif directly below, then below that is the balls to the wall canter/lope that most horse people just refer to as a run. That’s as fast as they can go.

Basic tack names

Halter + Lead/Lead Rope - these can be made of rope, leather, nylon (more modern) but the halter is generally used for leading and tying.

Bridle - this is the one that you use while you ride, it holds the bit in their mouth. There’s millions of different types of bridles but they’re usually made out of leather even now. sometimes you get rope/nylon ones but I don’t trust them.

Reins - connect to the bit and you use them to steer and control speed. Horses trained in western or one handed riding will ‘neck rein’ which means if you move your hand to the right and the left rein brushes their neck they will move to the right.

Bit - the metal piece in the horses mouth. most english riding bits are broken (joint in the middle) and most western ones are solid. there’s a gap behind the horse’s front teeth and that’s where the metal sits. Some horses have smaller mouths than others and do better with solid bits because the ‘broken’ ones will hit the top of their mouth and hurt. There’s also things called ‘shanks’ on some bits which are just longer pieces of metal that attach to the sides of the pieces in their mouth and point downward. This gives the rider more leverage and makes any tug on the reins stronger. (google “Horse bit shank” if this doesn’t make sense)

Saddle - you sit in it. simple right? wrong. There’s two main types of saddles, Western - with the horn like you see in the running gif, and English- the loping gif without the horn. The saddles used in the Witcher look like the pre-english saddle versions but the basic parts you need to know are the same. The part where you ass goes? that’s the seat. the part right in front of your crotch? That’s the pomel. that’s your ‘oh shit handle’ if anything goes screwy (other than the mane). The part that sticks up and keeps your ass in place? That’s the cantle. I like western saddles SO MUCH MORE but i also grew up mainly riding western so im biased. 

Stirrups/Irons - stirrups and irons are where your feet go. In western saddles they’re called stirrups and they’ve got wider decorative leather flaps (called fenders, also originally added to protect trousers/legs from the horse sweat and the buckles of the cinch) and on english saddles they’re called irons because they are usually made of iron and rather slim. Geralt’s irons look pretty similar to modern ones, slim leather straps, minimal iron (or steel or any other strong metal really). Traditional english riders have knee high boots like you see in regency costumes which removes the need for the fenders like on western saddles. 

Cinch/girth - this is what keeps the saddles on. You take a strap and attach it to one side of the saddle, run it under the belly right behind their front legs and attach it to the other side. Its usually made of a strong fabric with wool or some kind of softer lining for western riding. English riding uses a leather one most of the time though this horse girl hates them because they’re harder to cinch up. English saddles use buckles while Western saddles use another leather strap to run through the chinch/girth buckle and you either tie it off or use it like a belt. 

Chest strap - this keeps the saddle from sliding backwards. It’s attached to both sides of the saddle by buckles and between the front legs its attached to the cinch/girth. this is pretty universal but not always used. Geralt uses one though. 

Saddle pad - goes under the saddle to protect the baby’s back and whithers (spot where the neck meets the back and the mane ends)

Tacking up and untacking takes time. This is usually 5-10 minutes when done at a leisure pace and done right.

Basic grooming

Brush down before tacking up - you don’t want stuff chaffing the pony while you ride

brush after untacking- helps clear skin of irritants and feels nice

Shedding scraper/curry comb to get rid of shedding hair - if you want a pic of these just google them I think I’m close to the pic limit for my post. 

HOOF PICK - keep the baby's feet clean and clear if rocks so they don't bruise but also so nothing get infected

Yes, plz brush their mane it gets MATTED - a hairbrush works but a wide tooth comb is best

Horses roll to itch their backs and clean off, sounds counterintuitive with the dirt but it works

Shaving a little spot for the bridle to sit is pretty modern but it's easier for everyone involved

Horse Colors- guys roach is not brown she’s a chestnut color

The only thing I have to add to this is that the “Leopard” one is called “appaloosa” in the US at least, and “Pinto” is also reffered to as “Paint” and there’s all sorts of different patterns that you can see. also i want a buckskin so bad. yes i was obsessed with Spirit as a child why do you ask?

Travel care of your babies

Horses CAN and have subsisted off roadside grasses and grazing at night BUT it's good for them to get a lil something extra ESPECIALLY if you’re keeping them in a stall at night where they can’t graze.

Hay and grains like cracked wheat, oats, barley and the like are commonly found in horse feed. Also a lil drizzle of molasses is chock full of calories and all my horses LOVE the taste.

also while we’re talking food: some horses cant keep all the juice/bits in their mouth when they eat apples (we fondly call it making applesauce) or other treats/veg. Yes it gets all over your hand, yeah its kinda gross, but there’s worse things.

Shoes. Babe's need horse shoes. Especially if they're walking over rocks and roads.

Throwing a shoe (when it comes off on accident) is painful sometimes and if left un-dealt with can affect their joints and spine. Imagine walking around in one heeled shoe and one athletic shoe all day. Ow.

On that note though, on lighter travel seasons it's nice to give their hooves a break from shoes (also cheaper)

Horse moods:

horse mood ear chart here: I cant add much tbh

If a horse is comfortable/happy/relaxed they will ‘chew’ on nothing. Just kina a little lip smack type deal. My horse’s bottom lip would hang a couple centimeters below his top one when he was relaxed and I would put my chapstick in it while I fussed with other things.

When a horse is uncomfrotable/scared/tense their lips get sealed tight. I call it ‘fish butt lips’ bc they’re watertight and NOTHING is getting in there. 

Stamping hooves can be a few things. Antsy and ready to roll, nervous, deadass scared, or playful/excited. 

A full whinny is communication - saying hi, warning, scared, etc.

the really soft whinny is called a nicker and its my favorite sound okay? that’s little soft communication and its usually reserved for times when they’re comfortable.

When they’re really relaxed they’ll cock one of their back legs kinda how we shift our weight to one hip. 

general fun facts:

Some horses fake limp when they don’t want to work bc they are lazy and smart and realize their person will get off and check them out and maybe even give them a rest. 

You do a preliminary leg injury test by running your hands slowly over their legs and checking for hot spots - inflammation caused by injury is warm

Basic horse saftey is never stand directly in front of the horse if theres a possibility of spooking, if you’re gonna walk behind them walk out of reach of their hooves or right up against that ass. If they cant get a good wind up it wont do as much damage (on that note though I rode/trained horses for 18 years and was only kicked once by a foal). 

It’s kinda common sense not to walk/sidestep between your horses legs and under their belly but we do it all the time bc its a trust thing? adrenaline? its fun?

laying on your horse’s back sans saddle, and facing their butt is so nice okay, that ass is soft and cushy and perfect for a nap. I miss laying on my horses while they ate like this every damn day. 

Horses can sense your moods. Not unlike the whole ‘witchers smelling you’ thing. They can feel a difference in the tension on the reins and in your posture when you’re tense or relaxed.

Some horses will take care of their riders, some are absolute shits and push the limits for funsies. Some horses will only behave for people they’re used to too. Some horses have trauma from being mistreated and will have triggers kinda like people do. We had a horse who would freak the fuck out if anyone walked around with a red had but as soon as you took it off she was the most level headed horse we had.

A good portion of horses (Who aren’t scared of children) will behave better with kiddos or novice riders because they feel they’re nervous.

If they hurt while they’re moving they usually limp but sometimes they’ll buck. It’s their defense mechanism. 

Horses can’t sleep for too long laying down because their body weight will collapse their lungs. Most horses sleep standing up.

They can sit like a dog and it’s hella cute. 

Stung by bees? Most horses will take off at a dead sprint bucking and hopping unless you’ve done a lot of trust work/training with them

They also run and jump and buck and rear to play.

If theres two horses in a pasture together one will chew at the other’s whithers (or anywhere else) to ask them to scratch them the same way. its very cute and they sometimes try this with people.

horses hug. I cry. 

the whole deal with the rider/horse relationship is it’s a mutual trust you’re building. They let you sit on their back and do weird shit and you trust them not to throw you.  

Thank you for coming to class today! If there’s any questions feel free to message me! I’m not kidding I wanna answer your questions and I miss my horses so this is fun for me.

@elliestormfound​ here it is boo! lol 

[notkageyamasprincess]

embarrassing things about them | pt. iv

nekoma

genre/warnings: basically you should stop reading if you don’t want to see me slander your faves. crack!1! & like minimal fluff

kuroo tetsurō

genuinely believes he’s a really good singer but he’s really not

you went to a karaoke bar for your third date since you both loved singing

also karaoke bars are conveniently dim so 😳

he queued his song, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth. you were speechless

he sounded like ice jj fish if you were wondering

“kuroo... what the fuck”

“i know, i’m pretty good right?” “uhm no-”

kai nobuyuki

a guy who pays attention to his health

but a worrywart over small things

his search history is all stuff like “sharp pain in my right side what does this mean” “left foot numb in the middle of the night” “saw a tiny dark spot in corner of my vision am i going to be okay”

tummy hurts a bit too much for a bit too long

he just ends up scaring himself because he always ends up on those sketchy medical sites that tell him he has cancer or some kind of horrible illness

please reassure him 🥺

yaku morisuke

he was 14, felt fresh asf coming home bc! this boy! was single no more! nice!

but he didn’t know how to kiss and he really wanted to impress them

you bet he practiced kissing on his arm

alone in his room ofc. well, until his dad barged in

“hey son, could you-”

he whipped around and shamefully removed his lips from his forearm

his dad?? just?? quietly closed the door?

yamamoto taketora

he’s definitely a fanboy for those girl idol groups (like tōdō from jjk)

he somehow acquired a life sized cardboard cutout of his fave

he keeps her hidden away in his closet bc there’s no way he can leave her out in the open

it gave his mom a FRIGHT when she went in to clean his room omgomgomg

i feel like it warranted a family meeting 💀

kozume kenma

i hc that he probably gets his hair done at a salon (sksj omg can you imagine his cute lil butt sitting in the chair w the cape around him)

anyways his regular guy was on vacation and he desperately needed an appointment

so he decided to pick up a box of hair dye and tried to diy bad decision very bad

he didn’t really know what brand was good or what shade so he just randomly got the first blond colour from a really sus brand but he didn’t know that 😭

listen. he accidentally dyed his hair NEON YELLOW.

highlighter lookin’ ass

he didn’t know wtf to do next and school was hell the next day bc no hats allowed

fukunaga shōhei

so you know how he says little jokes to himself and laughs??

his classmates were like “oi fukunaga, how come you’re always laughing, what’s so funny?”

and shō was real excited to tell his jokes

NO ONE LAUGHED. NOT ONE SOUL. IT WAS AWKWARD. 😐

the only one rolling on the ground in tears was himself

(this is kinda sad i need to compensate bc i lob him)

but years down the line, you ended up sharing his weird humour so he knew you were the one <3

inuoka sō

he’s always hyper and cheerful and loves to help people out!!

so when he was walking in the streets and saw a girl with her hands full drop something, he had to go in there!

he went in there. quite literally. her skirt i mean.

when he crouched down to pick up what she dropped, his head caught onto the hem of her skirt and when he lifted his head back up......

it was an honest mistake!! baby boy would never!! really tragic how it happened really omg please he’s not a pervert please don’t call the cops he’s already so embarrassed

haiba lev

so we all know he’s really tall

and if you’ve ever been to japan, well, it’s not the friendliest place for lanky bean poles like him

especially doorways of trains/subways. doorways in general

bumps his head in front of people so much

sometimes really hard too how does he not get concussions???

sometimes gets a big bump on his forehead before he even arrives at school

is that why he’s such a dumb dumb?

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

taglist: @sparkykatsuki

[wxlfstxrx]

Your O'Knutzy writing is my favourite thing! I feel like Logan is very clingly...wanna write me so cute/soft headcanons abt it? Or when they boys are sick?:))))

hey hey, so i.... deviated... from the prompt I’M SORRY. like i was writing sick logan and somehow i couldn’t channel the clingy whiny part of him. maybe bc i get all awkward, guys-i’m-fine-stop-fussing when i’m sick sooooooo. honestly ngl this took a while to write, it’s been a rough two or so days and i’m just exhausted at the moment. it’s far from how i wanted it to be, but it’s bugging me and i want to post it, so here it is. hope you like it anyway! characters by @lumosinlove.

Logan wakes up one Sunday morning, head pounding and freezing his butt off. He has no idea what time it is, and he tries to open his eyes to check the time on his phone screen, but the moment he even tries to move, it feels like he’s going to throw up. 

His whole body hurts and he’s sweating under the covers, but he simply cannot find the energy to throw them off him.

Exhausted, he lets himself drift off into unconsciousness again, until he’s woken up by knocking on his door some time later. He groans, pulling his pillow over his head and hoping that whoever it is will stop fuelling his raging migraine.

When he hears Dumo’s worried voice, however, he sighs and musters up enough energy to yell a very hoarse and scratchy come in that makes him sound like a crying horse.

Dumo nudges the door open with his hip and enters the basement, holding a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water with some pills in his hands. “How are you feeling, mon fils?” He asks softly as he approaches Logan’s bed.

“How—” Logan’s voice cracks and he coughs. “How did you know?”

“Well, five out of seven people in this house are currently down with the flu, and it’s currently eleven in the morning but you’re still not up yet. Wasn’t hard to figure that you’d be the sixth,” He shrugs, placing the tray on the cramped nightstand by his bed. He sits on the edge of the bed, and Logan scoots closer under the covers so Dumo can press the back of his hand to his forehead.

“Merde, you’re burning up. Do you want me to bring down some painkillers for you?” Dumo asks, frowning as he combs Logan’s long brown fringe back, away from his sweaty forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Dumo,” Logan rasps out, choking at the end as he dissolves into another round of coughs.

Dumo tuts, shaking his head worriedly as he clasps a hand on Logan’s shoulder before standing up. He mumbles to himself in French while he lets himself out of the room, and Logan buries himself further under the covers.

He wakes up again when a warm hand brushes his face, tracing across his cheekbone. He frowns and crinkles his nose, making an incoherent sound as he sniffles, trying to clear his blocked nose.

“Hey, did I wake you up?” A quiet voice asks apologetically, and Logan instinctively leans into the touch. Leo.

“Mmmm, but s’ok,” Logan whispers, his hand emerging from under the duvet to close around Leo’s wrist.

“How’re you feeling?” A second voice pitches in.

“What do you think?” He scoffs, turning his head for a moment so he can sneeze into his elbow. 

“Ooh, someone’s moody,” Finn’s grinning face comes into focus as Logan blinks a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He scowls, and Finn’s gaze softens. “Aww, I’m just teasing you, babe. C’mon, can you sit up?”

Leo slides a hand under Logan’s back and helps him shift into a sitting position, propped up against the headboard with the pillows cushioning his back. Finn picks up the bowl of soup and crosses over to the other side of the bed, carefully climbing onto the mattress and planting himself beside Logan, cross legged and facing him. 

He gives the soup a few good stirs with the spoon in his hand, squints at the bowl, and frowns. “It got cold.”

Without another word, he gets up and stalks out of the room. 

Logan blinks. “I could’ve just drank that. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Leo’s mouth quirks in a lopsided grin. “You know what he’s like. A complete baby at times, but he’s such a mom when it comes to things like this.”

Logan manages a weak laugh, which tapers off into a dry cough. “Fuck, I hate being sick.”

Leo grabs the glass of water and brings it up to Logan’s lips, and he closes his fingers around the glass, taking a few big gulps, letting out a satisfied ahhh when he drains the glass within the span of several seconds.

“Dumo called you two over?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“Mmhm, texted us saying you were ill, that the whole family’s ill, actually—” Leo tosses him a sympathetic look. “But yeah, Dumo’s alone in this, even Celeste can barely get out of bed, so we’re his reinforcements.”

He grins, and turns around as Finn re-enters the room with the same bowl of soup, now piping hot.

“Right, ‘m back, went to reheat the soup, Dumo’s a mess up there, with the kids just, y’know,” Finn rambles absentmindedly as he climbs back onto the bed, the soup sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the bowl.

“I swear, if you spill that…”

“I won’t, now stop talking and drink this,” Finn chides without malice. He scoops a spoonful of the scalding soup, lifts it to his mouth to blow on it gently, and turns his wrist so he can direct the spoon to hover right in front of Logan’s face.

“I— I can do it myself, Harz,” Logan splutters.

“I’m sure you can, babe, I’d be worried if you couldn’t. Now hurry up before I actually do spill this.”

Logan sighs and parts his lips, letting Finn tip the spoonful into his mouth. He sighs, closing his eyes as he feels the warm liquid slide down his throat, and he instantly feels a lot less groggy. 

Finn insists on feeding him the whole bowl of soup, whereas Leo helps to bring in a cold, damp cloth from the bathroom to press against Logan’s forehead. 

“Mes amours, I’ll be fine,” Logan awkwardly chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, not used to having people fuss over him like this. 

Leo gives him a strange look, and Finn grins. “You’re blushing! How adorable. I never thought I’d see the day where you’re embarrassed by people taking care of you.”

“No, I’m not,” Logan says indignantly, but Finn bursts out into laughter.

“You so are. I love this, oh my god.”

“Fuck you,” Logan rasps out, and does a weird, painful combination of a sneeze and a cough. 

“Okay, okay, let’s get some rest, hmm? But,” Leo points a finger at him. “Medicine first.”

Damn it.

Logan was hoping that they’d forget about it. He slowly slides downwards, further under the covers, and looks away when Leo holds out the pills in his hand.

“Wha— C’mon, babe,” Leo’s free hand attempts, and fails, to tug the covers off of Logan. “You’re not gonna recover if you don’t take your meds.”

“Don’t wanna,” Logan replies, voice muffled by the duvet covering his mouth.

“Is it the pills?” Finn frowns. “You still don’t take pills after all these years?”

Logan glares at Finn, who looks genuinely surprised for a moment, before he schools his expression, giving the brunette a small smile.

“Okay, okay,” He holds his hands up in front of him in surrender. “Hey, Peanut, give me those. I’ll be back.”

Leo hands Finn the pills, and the redhead leaves the room once again, Leo staring at the door closing.

He slides his hand beneath the duvet and locates Logan’s hand. He laces their fingers together, resting over Logan’s heart and he smiles at him tenderly.

“S’ok, mon chou,” He squeezes Logan’s hand, and he melts at how loving and caring his two boys are towards him. He lets himself snuggle closer to Leo, and Leo runs a hand through Logan’s hair soothingly, helping to ease his headache into a dull throb.

When Finn comes back into the room, grinning like the cheshire cat, Logan can’t help himself.

“What the fuck?” He croaks out.

“Is he allowed to eat that?” Leo asks, startled.

“Yeah, ice cream’s actually good for when you’re sick,” Finn answers, giving them a smug grin. He climbs back onto the bed, beside Logan, and hands him the bowl.

Logan eyes the two scoops of dark chocolate ice cream warily. “Where’re the pills, Harz?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Finn retorts with an exaggerated wink.

“You know,” Leo’s hand freezes and he leans closer to Logan’s ear. “You need to take your meds if you wanna be strong again, hmm? You’ll definitely need your strength for what I’ve planned for you.”

Logan shivers as Leo’s breath tickles his ear and the hand closed around his moves lower, trailing lightly across his abdomen.

“Playing dirty, eh, Peanut?”

“Oh, I’ll show you dirty,” Leo licks his lips, voice low and tone teasing.

Finn clears his throat and nods his head towards the bowl still in Logan’s hand.

“You’re gonna make me finish this, aren’t you?” Logan sighs defeatedly, rubbing his face against the sleeve of his hoodie wearily. 

Finn does a mock bow, which looks ridiculous considering he’s seated down, body half twisted to face him. “Any time now, Your Highness.”

Logan rolls his eyes, but lets go of Leo’s hand to pick up the spoon. He tries his best not to think about the pills buried somewhere within the scoops of ice cream, and he shovels spoonful after spoonful into his mouth while leaning against Leo’s side.

He reckons he tasted the bitterness of the pills at some points, but overall he has to admit that it’s better than he expected. Finn looks like a proud mom when Logan finishes the final scoop and leans his head back against Leo’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut.

Leo pulls the empty bowl out of Logan’s hands and turns around to place them on the nightstand. 

“How’re you feeling, baby?” Finn whispers, moving closer so he can wrap an arm around Logan’s shoulders. 

Logan just nods and hums a noncommittal response, full and warm and satisfied. He feels Leo adjusting his position so they’re lying side by side on the bed, Logan in Finn’s arms and Leo spooning him from the back. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs into Finn’s chest, feeling his mind drift in and out of focus once again.

A soft kiss is pressed onto the top of his head, and he mentally thanks Dumo for calling his boys, his perfect boys, over to the house. He feels much better now; his head has almost completely stopped pounding, he’s stopped sweating through his hoodie, and he feels loved. 

Logan falls right back asleep with a smile on his face, not even stirring when the door creaks open and Marc stumbles in, piling on top of the boys, right between him and Finn. He definitely doesn’t stir when Dumo stands in the doorway with his phone out to snap a picture of the four boys huddled together on the bed, tired beyond belief, but with the biggest smile he’s ever had all day.

[oikawas-bae]

omg! domestic headcanons got me like uwu, can i please request a scenario where tsukki is accidentally pressuring his kid into academics too much, and his kid just breaks down right in front of him because of the unbelievable pressure he's putting on his kid? and then the mother is gone for some reason, so tsukki has to deal with it? thank you! keep working hard!

Okay so I named the kid Takumi bc that’s the first thing I thought of and also it starts with a T and Fire emblem got me all uwu. » » this request is everything bc I am both tsukki and the son at the same time, curse the pressure of the education system 😖 also have a carbon cycle quiz tomorrow so let’s hope that goes well bois

1.2k Words

Tsukki undeniably loved his son, from the moment he first held him at the hospital, he felt an indisputable connection with him. To hold something so precious and know that it would be his to nurture, it was breathtaking and it brought upon him an unmatched amount of fear and anticipation. Luckily, Tsukishima had the best wife to help him raise the child.

He viewed the responsibility of being parents as categorical and so he divided the responsibilities with his wife. She would deal with the emotions and age-related hormone reactions while he dealt with the academic and social circles of his son. Tsukki was as meticulous as they got so he’d carefully planned out what teachers his child got assigned, who he was seated next to (because those people would most likely end up his child’s close acquaintances), and the academic track he would follow. Though controlling, it was an effective method of raising a child, given that his mother was present for moral support. But this wasn’t always the case when she got a job as a journalist and had to travel abroad frequently for prolonged periods to cover a story. Tsukki would be left with his son at home. It worked out. Again, Tsukki divided the responsibilities of cooking, cleaning and errands with his son. For all he knew, he was managing just fine.

“Takumi, I’m home! Dinner is on the table, it’s the meat buns from that Ramen place close to my work,” Tsukki dropped the white bag onto the tabletop and walked to his son’s room, the door creaked open and he could see him closely studying the textbook in front of him. “You should eat.”

Tsukki went to use the restroom and when he got back, his son was still sitting in front of his desk, deep in concentration as he skimmed the words, jotting down notes on post its and plastering them on the pages before he flipped to the next section. “Hey, how long have you been at this?”

No response. He stepped calmly toward him and peered over his shoulder. “Hey.” His voice remained dull, he moved the spinning chair so that Takumi faced him. His son looked up at him with matching golden eyes.

“Sorry, dad. I was just so focused.”

“You should take a break.” He squeezed Takumi’s shoulder. “Also, how did that Biology test go today?”

Chills ran up Takumi’s spine and he pulled his knees closer to his chest, looking in any direction but his father’s. “It was good, as usual.”

“Cool, wasn’t it about the carbon cycle? I was pretty well versed on that topic. Do you happen to have the test on you? I’d like to just look at the questions.” Tsukki assumed they were in the desk and reached out to move the other papers and books aside. Takumi pulled Tsukki’s shirt before he could reach the bottom of the pile. “Dad, you should eat with me now!”

“That’s fine, I already ate.” The look of desperation on Takumi’s face increased in severity. He clamored for any excuse or distraction to get his father away from his pile of papers.

“This is my space, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t intrude on it so rudely!” Pushing away his dad from the desk, Tsukishima barely budged but voluntarily moved away in shock of his son’s actions. This was a first. He’d always been so well mannered. He was barely 13, this couldn’t be the start of the rebellious stage, could it? Even so, he knew better than to be aggressive.

“Sorry, what?”

Takumi blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat before continuing the successful act, “You can’t just barge in here, dad.”

Tsukki’s brows narrowed angrily and he flicked his son on the forehead, “Listen kid, I don’t know what your deal is right now but you need to cut this out right now.”

Takumi opened his mouth to retort but his throat hitched and he could only manage a low “ah”. The two sat in awkward silence for a few seconds before Takumi’s defiant expression faltered and he threw himself back onto his chair, “When’s mom coming home?”

“Next week.”

“Next week?” The boy cried out, a weak crack splintering his regular tone. He slammed his head onto the desk.

“Hey, don’t do that!” Tsukki pulled the chair away from the desk and crouched down to be at eye level with Takumi. “What’s wrong with you?”

The boy looked up, his eyes glossy with tears threatening to fall. “I failed my biology test, my score was below the class average. I know you’re mad, I even talked to the teacher about retaking it but she refused.”

“You studied didn’t you?”

“Not as much, I wanted to play video games, I get tired of studying.”

“Well that explains it, you’re not applying yourself-”

Takumi interjected, his voice squeaking with anger again, “I don’t get it, dad! Why do I have it be the best at school? Why do you put me in the toughest courses? I’m not even interested in most of the subjects you sign me up for. I could care less about carbon cycles or Avogadro’s number or Geography! I want to be able to enjoy school but you always make it seem like I’m going to be a massive failure if I don’t come out at the top at everything I do. I’m tired of it and when mom isn’t here, I can’t talk to anybody- You’re no help, dad!”

Speechless, Tsukki thought to himself as he stared into his son’s eyes, they were filled with rage and exhaustion. He’d never seen him so pent up with anger, it hurt that this tantrum was a product of his work. He’d planned everything out, made sure his son would have the brightest future, but he was failing to consider Takumi’s feelings. Tsukishima had planned everything with the justification that his son would thank him later but now he was wondering if he would instead resent him for it all.

Takumi wiped his eyes, ensuring no tears fell, “Sorry, dad. I didn’t mean to be rude…”

“It’s fine. I deserve it.” Tsukishima looked up at the ceiling, hands deep in his pockets, “I always half-assed everything in school because I was afraid if I tried my best I’d be less than people expected. I just wanted you to always be the best so you’d never feel like a failure. But I guess I just pushed you so much that now any shortcoming feels like a failure, huh?”

Shaking his head furiously, Takumi looked directly at his dad, a sincere smile gracing his face, “No, you’re a good dad! I really appreciate you and I’ll try harder next time. I won’t play video games so much-”

“Please stop,” Tsukishima took off his glasses and wiped them with the butt of his palm. “We should just stop talking about school right now. How about you eat and we’ll watch a movie?”

“But I’ve got to study…”

“You know you want to watch the movie,” Tsukishima ruffled Takumi’s hair, walking him to the kitchen with his hand still on his head.

“True...well, if you say so!”

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Let Me | Jimin Drabble

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Requested: Anonymous: 

Hi there~ can I request jimin drabble? About yn tired and frustrated bcs of exams? Thanks:)

Genre: FLUFF, light smut

Length: 1,956k words

Warnings: Just some soft, supportive boyfriend Jimin, and slight smut, oral sex (female receiving), fingering.

A/N: This ask really cleansed my soul from the filth I’ve been writing all week so thank you anon. 

You sat hunched over your desk typing away on your laptop with your eyes totally glued to the screen. The only light in your room comes from the bright glow of the computer and the desk lamp allowing you to see your study guides scattered in front of you. You had been studying tirelessly for finals all week and it would be two days until they were finally upon you. 

Everyday, your boyfriend Jimin would come over to find you in awkward positions at your desk in your bedroom and beg for your attention. But even his sweet smile and adorably round cheeks weren’t enough to pull your focus away from your studies. You heard Jimin unlock the apartment door with the key that you gave him and your eyes dart to the time on the screen. He’s back from practice already?, you thought.

12:07 AM. You’ve been sitting here for eight hours, switching from one subject to another and only pausing to cater to bodily needs and functions. You shrug and continue working, you were on a roll, no reason to stop now. Jimin could be heard shuffling around in the kitchen before he called out for you. 

"Y/n?" 

"In here!" You replied over your shoulder. He approached the bedroom, delaying his movements at the threshold to observe you. "Are you still studying babe?" He sighed, turning on the light and toeing off his shoes. 

You furrowed your brows at the foolish question and spoke without thinking. "I don't know, do I still have finals this week?" You retorted sarcastically, your fingers still moving swiftly over the keys of your laptop. 

He paused, catching a whiff of sass in your tone. But he chalked it up to stress and brushed it off, figuring he'd try to help with the situation. So he pulled on his usual sweet smile and stood behind you.

"True, but you should take a break. Look at this!” He beamed in excitement. “I just bought this Ben and Jerry's flavor that just dropped and I wanna try it together." He crooned, placing the pint of ice cream and spoons on the desk and resting his hands on your shoulders. You made a face and quickly moved the dripping wet pint away from your papers.

"Later babe, I gotta finish this." You droned, uninterested. 

"Oh come on, just five minutes. It'll still be there when you get back." He implored, thrumming his fingers against your arms eagerly.

"No Jimin, that's not the point." You spoke firmly shrugging his hands off of you. 

"Whoa...someones cranky." His smile dropped along with his hands as he made his way to the bed. You sighed, finally looking away from the laptop and turned towards him. You grabbed his hand before he could get too far and squeezed apologetically. 

"I’m sorry. I’m just...tired." You grumbled, rubbing at your eyes. You’ve been at this since 4:00 PM and staring at a screen and working constantly with no breaks for that long was beginning to take a toll on you. 

"I can see that." He reaches up and grasps your face gently in his hands. He looked you over gingerly, noticing dark circles beginning to formulate under your eyes. 

He suddenly squishes your face and laughs at how your cheeks move up. "What are you doing?" You whined playfully while swiping at his hands. He lets go and kneels in front of you placing his hands on your thighs. 

"Are you almost done at least?" He wondered, looking up at you with those pure and charming eyes while gently massaging your thighs. You scoffed, glancing back at your computer with a tired smile. "Oh, not a chance."

Jimin sucked his teeth, and threw his head back exasperatedly. "But you've been here all day. I'm sure you’ve gotten more than enough done." You shook your head at him. Although he was right, you still felt like it wasn’t enough. "I know but I need to drill all of this into my head at least two more times—" 

"You need to take a break." You go to argue but Jimin cuts you off, pressing a finger to your lips. "And not to go to the bathroom or stuff some chips in your mouth." He reprimanded. You immediately shut your mouth and look down with a guilty smile. 

He got up off of the floor and pulled you with him. "Come on, get up." He insisted.

"What why?" 

His eyes widened as he tried to spell it out for you. "Because you need to get out of this chair. I know your body hurts." 

You got up and immediately felt the need to stretch your limbs. "I told you. You shouldn't stay like that for too long babe. Sitting is the new smoking, you know." He explains, stretching his own body right alongside you. You chuckled fondly while cracking your back and grunting lightly.

"Thank you for that information, Jimin." You nod with a fond smile.

"You're welcome. Now come here." He grasped your shoulders and led you to the bed. You resisted slightly. "No, Jimin, I need to study." You said, barely trying to get out of his hold.

"You've been doing that literally all day. Now I need you to step away and just relax for a minute. Let me help you do that." He whispered in your ear, the sound instantly putting you at ease.

You sighed defeatedly and allowed yourself to be led to the bed. You sat on the end of the bed, straight away your bum felt so much better and Jimin just chuckled at you.

"No babe. Come lie on your stomach." He smiled, patting the pillows at the head of the bead

"Oh, well, I don't know." You muttered innocently, moving up the mattress. 

You make yourself comfortable on your stomach with your arms tucked under your head. "Now what?" You mumbled into your wrist.

"Now I get on top of you." He said quickly, climbing on top of you and settling right on your bottom, careful not to put all of his weight on you.

"Park Jimin, what the fuck are you doing?" You questioned with a confused smile. He responded while fighting back laughter. "Shhh. Just relax." 

You felt his hands glide up from your lower back to your shoulder blades slowly. He reached the top of your shoulders and began to knead firmly into them. You moaned immediately, his hands releasing all the tension you acquired throughout the week with constant studying.

"Does that feel good?" He breathed quietly. 

"You know it does. Damn babe, how have we not done this before?" You drawled in delight.

"I've never seen you this stressed before. You're so tight, Y/N.” He grunted, working on one trouble spot in your trap muscle. “You really need to take it easy."

You took a break from moaning to reply to him. "I know, but that's easier said than done and I really need to pass—"

"And you will." He whispered in your ear. "You're the smartest girl I know. You're gonna do great." He continued placing sweet kisses on your cheek. You giggled and and scrunched your face up playfully.

"Now stop worrying and let me take care of you." He really went to work on your shoulders, arms, shoulder blades and lower back for a glorious hour and a half before you started to feel something poking at your butt. You smiled faintly, at the fact that you could turn him on without doing much of anything.

"You got another relaxation treatment for me back there?" You joked, reaching back to rub his thigh. 

Jimin laughed at himself for being caught and leaned over you. “It’s not easy to listen to you moan under me like this and not be affected, okay?” He whispered earnestly. 

“I see.” You nodded against the pillow with an intrigued face. “So do you think this method might help? With the stress I mean.” You prompted flirtatiously. 

"If you're up to it, sure.” He uttered, placing tender kisses on your cheek and neck. “I think it'll really do the trick." His hands continue to caress your arms and back sensually. 

"I’m inclined to agree. I cant wait to try it." You said poking your backside back up in his direction, making Jimin moan with hunger. 

You both stop beating around the bush and spring into action when Jimin removes himself from your back. Neither of you waste any time getting undressed, knowing exactly what you were about to do. 

Once you were both down to your underwear, Jimin was back on top of you kissing your lips roughly. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him impossibly close to your body. You wanted to savor every touch and kiss between the two to you and have him like this forever. 

You held him even closer when you felt him separate from you and start to travel down your body. You assumed you would be getting right to the main event and desperately wanted him inside of you. He eased your worries with a kiss filled with so much passion it made your toes curl. 

“Let me make you feel good.” He urged against your lips in a voice you could never say no to. You only nodded bemusedly and let him kiss his way down your torso until he ended up in between your legs. You licked your lips sensuously as he breathed over your heat, fondling your thighs with his soft, warm hands. 

Finally he stuck his tongue out to flick your clit several times and you let out a short hiss. He went on like this, just enjoying your delicious pussy, barely touching you and making you squirm when you gripped his hair in your hands. He looked up questioningly. 

“Please don’t tease me, baby. I can’t take it.” You begged breathlessly. You were already so tightly wound from the week you’ve had. You needed release and soon. You watched as your boyfriend smiled up at you devilishly. “You’re right Y/N, I’m sorry.” He admitted and ducked back down in between your legs. 

You relaxed back into the bed, not having a single moment to catch your breath when Jimin dove into you and began eating you out like a man possessed. You groaned and immediately propped your head up on your arm to watch him. His mouth was flush to your lower lips as he licked and sucked all over and around your clit. 

“Hooooo my God, Jimin!” You moaned shrilly with one hand gripping Jimin’s silky hair and the other fisting the sheets of the bed. You feel like you stopped breathing when he easily inserted two fingers into you and curled them rapidly. 

He looked back up at you, the two of you making intense eye contact as you felt your muscles tighten and your mind cloud with immense pleasure. You shut your eyes tightly and arched your back as you let the waves of your orgasm crash over you. 

“Holy mother of Jesus.” You sighed contentedly as Jimin withdrew himself from you and kissed his way back up your beautiful body to your mouth. Your lips met for a deep and breathless kiss that you both smiled happily into. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He purred, lightly kissing any portion of your skin he could reach and making you giggle. You return as many as you can replying, “I love you more.” And with that Jimin took it upon himself to help you relax for the remainder of the night all the way into the morning for a very rewarding study break.

[groundzerobakugo]

there’s a reason they’re called crushes // k. bakugou

gender in this imagine will be female. if you wish for me to create this with male or genderneutral pronouns please send a message my way! i would be happy to help!

word count: no idea bc my computer’s being a butt

...

  you sat with your head propped up in your palm, elbow resting on the desk, dreamy look in your eyes as you stared at the blond sitting at the front of the room. luckily, you sat in the back, just behind deku and in front of yaororozu. no one embarrassing would catch you in the act.

  you could only imagine what it would be like to date the strongest boy in your class; strong arms holding you close, his dickish exterior fading into something caring but only around you, crimson eyes that melted at the sight of you. eating lunch with him and talking freely with the intimidating blond.

  a sigh left your lips; that would never happen. for one, bakugou would never like you back, and two, even if he did, you’d be too shy to confess and he’d be too stubborn. however, the blond was too busy becoming the number one hero to ever think the same as you.

  ashido slammed a hand on your desk, and you startled two feet into the air.

  “wh-what happened?!” you yelped, noticing as everyone had began to file out of the classroom.

  the pink girl grinned. “you were daydreaming again, huh? what about? a boy...?” she teased.

  a blush dusted across your cheeks. “n-no, never. i—“ you noticed bakugou’s crimson eyes slide your way for just a millisecond. midoriya casting a glance as well.

  ashido may not have had the best grades, but if it ever came to nosing around into who-liked-who, she could get the highest grade in class. “never?”

  “sh-shut up,” you grumbled.

  “you’re totally in love with him, aren’t you?!”

  the accusation rang loud throughout the class, and you jumped up from your seat, shaky hands rushing to cover her mouth as your fidgeting eyes made sure no one had overheard. but, you two were the only ones left in class. 

  still, an even deeper blush rose to your cheeks. “any louder and someone would hear you!”

  ashido rolled her eyes. “so... any plans on confessing?”

  you stood from your desk with a huff and shake of your head. “no. pretty sure bakugou doesn’t even think about stuff like that. he’s, well, he’s bakugou. you don’t confess to—”

  her eyes widened. “it’s bakugou?!” she shouted in the hallways, passing glances cast your way.

  “shh!” you hissed. “i don’t want bakugou to know, let alone the whole damn school!”

  “and here i thought you were staring at midoriya,” she mumbled. “but! no difference.”

  you turned to ashido just outside the school’s front doors, stopping her just outside the shoe lockers. “do not breathe a word of this to anyone. i... even if i can’t confess to bakugou, i’d rather keep it to myself and suffer in silence. he’s busy with his own stuff. please, mina-kun, just... don’t tell anyone.”

  and you stormed off to the training gyms.

...

  it was a saturday night at the dorms, most every classmate deciding to stay in the safety of yuuei than go home that weekend. that, and even bakugou on the other. it confused you as to why he decided to stay in the dorms for the weekend, as most often he went home. but he was sat down in the common room with a book in his lap, kaminari, kirishima, and sero playing a game on the tv in front of them.

  why did he stay...? you wondered, staring at him from your spot on the floor, the rest of class 1a’s girls surrounding you.

  the blond sensed your eyes on him, and he looked your way with a scowl. you jumped and stared down at your hands, blush dusted across your cheeks. you’d been caught in the act staring at him!

  ashido had looked over at just the perfect moment, and a devilish grin spread across her face. “hey, bakugou!” she called and stood up from her spot, and you stared at her gaping. just what the hell did she think she was doing?!

  said boy glared at her as she approached. “the fuck do you want, pinky?”

  she shrugged. “nothing really. i was just wondering, do you like any of the girls in our class?”

  “the hell is that supposed to mean?! i don’t have time for some stupid romance shit,” he growled, the faintest of pinks dusting his cheeks. “if i’m going to be the number one hero, i can’t afford any dumb distractions.”

  you bit your lip in anxiety. oh kami, help you, don’t let ashido say something!

  her black and gold eyes glanced at you. “what if i told you someone in our class likes you? and that she’s cute too, just too shy to confess.”

  "hah?!" he slammed his book shut, crimson eyes narrowed. “didn’t you just hear me, damn raccoon eyes? i don’t have time for that shit!”

  you gulped threw a lump in your throat and stood abruptly, chair scraping and a certain heaviness to your limbs. the rest of the class’s eyes turned towards you, but you kept your eyes to the ground as you walked out of the room.

  “wait, (name)-chan—” ashido called after you, but she faded away as the elevator closed.

  even though you knew you never had a chance, even though you knew bakugou would say those words, even though it was only a stupid daydream of yours, you still felt your heart shatter and drop to the floor, as at least with only daydreaming, there was still an impossible sliver of a chance. 

  and ashido had just assured you there was never a chance.

  the elevator stopped at your floor, the button you’d originally pressed, but you hesitated upon stepping out. ashido would come straight to your door, as well as the rest of the girls, and possibly even midoriya and kirishima. you didn’t want them to ask questions, and you knew that class-1a had some of the brightest people, you knew they had already figured out it was you who had a crush on bakugou.

  so you stepped back and hit the button for the rooftop. the doors closed once more, and your back hit the wall. 

  a wave of tears spilled over your waterline, emotions filling you to the brim. but... why were you crying when you knew this was the reality? bakugou couldn’t ever return anyone’s feelings, not when he was so busy with his coursework and hero training. and bakugou especially couldn’t return your feelings, he didn’t even know who you were, didn’t know your quirk until the sports festival when he had to face you, never even bothered giving you a rude nickname. kami, why did crushes hurt so much?

  no. there was no why. crushes were called crushes for a reason. because they hurt you when they inevitably didn’t work out. because they ached you when the person you were crushing on never returned your feelings. because they crushed you.

  once more, the elevator doors opened, and the brisk fall air sent goosebumps down your arms. it was only the start of your second year, how were you supposed to deal with the embarrassment of bakugou and the rest of your class knowing you liked the fiery blond? you shivered, both at the thought and from the cold.

  the rooftop was the one safe place you had in yuuei, where you knew no one would go. you felt free with the wind dancing around you, and the energy always felt so positive being so high in the sky. you stood above everyone else.

  you sat near the edge with your knees pulled up, arms pulling them tightly to your chest as you let tears silently flow down your cheeks.

  “damn you mina,” you cried out, but it was a mere whisper, voice cracking. 

  you knew you’d never see bakugou look at you with love in his eyes. you knew you’d never see bakugou with a smile reserved just for you. you knew you’d never have bakugou pull you in tight after a long day of training. it was all just a fantasy daydream in your head that you knew wouldn’t work out.

  you’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the elevator doors open.

  “so this is where you fucking hide,” a familiar voice commented, footsteps quickly approaching.

  eyes wide, you uncurled immediately, shocked. “ba-bakugou, what are you—”

  he shrugged, standing over you. “raccoon eyes is looking for you.”

  you huffed. “i don’t care. she shouldn’t have said anything, at all.” you were silent for a second before you looked up at him. “and i know that now you’re up here after i pretty much indirectly confessed, you’re here to tell me to fuck off and stick my feelings up my ass.”

  “how are you so damn sure?” he said.

  “how am i—” your voice went up a pitch, and you stood, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “you just said you don’t have any damn time for shitty romance. so, that’s how i’m damn sure, baka!”

  he growled under his breath. “i’m not... i’m not good at these types of things. the whole, confession and crushes and dating shit. but, fucking hell, (name), i can’t get you out of my damn head.”

  you blinked with wide eyes. “wh-what?”

  he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “i fucking... i don’t know. i don’t know why i said all that shit. i guess it was fucking pinky putting me on the damn spot like that, that i fucking, i don’t know. i just, i fucking like your stupid ass for some damn reason.”

  a fresh batch of tears glistened in your eyes. “you... you’re not lying, right?”

  bakugou scoffed at the accusation. “you think a damn future number one hero’s gonna lie over something so ridiculously stupid?”

  a small smile spread across your lips. “so you really like me back, you return my feelings?”

  the blond’s cheeked bloomed in a cherry red. “yeah, i guess i do, dipshit. i... i really don’t know what fucking comes next though. think this shit means we’re dating?”

  “yeah, i guess so,” you replied, a blush heating your own cheeks.

  you’d have to thank ashido the next time you saw her, you thought to yourself, as bakugou hesitantly and awkwardly placed a single hand on your head, telling you it was time to head back.

...

more short but cute shit, but hey!! three updates in three days????? who am i????????

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

UHHH THE FIC I WISH YOU WOULD WRITE?? Deadass just.... roy and dick hanging out There is a severe lack of fics with them and i just live for your writing in general

thank you so much, that means the world to me 🥺🥺🥺!!! and ohhhhh that would be a lot of fun!!! and this isn’t a fic exactly, just a bunch of headcanons, but still let me preface by saying I haven’t read a lot of their comics so this would all be considered AU probably! AND THIS GOT SO LONG OH MY GOD im not sorry but WOW I got way off track lmao

I can see them doing a lot of different things lol, like when they’re younger I think they’d play hacky sack and arm wrestle and stuff but also I think there would be a lot of nights spent at one or the other’s place, laying under blankets with popcorn and their favorite movies on. I like the thought that either it’s a movie they both love, Their Movie(tm), or it’s multiple ones that only one likes and the other hates but can recite word for word bc they’ve seen it so many times. idk why but I’m picturing Stuart Little dkjfhkjdsah do w that what you will. I also don’t know if this is like a Thing or not but I love the idea of them together at galas. hiding under tables w their PSPs or DSes, trying to be quiet but everything is funnier there, and they overhear all kinds of shit that maybe they shouldn’t but THEY’RE BASICALLY 12 ANYWAY that’s almost a teenager and teenagers can watch R rated movies soooooo!!! and omgggg imagine the superheroing antics. when they’re training together, I think they’d throw trash talk around and at first they aren’t sure where to stop so some feelings are hurt. but the more they work together, the easier it is to tell what’s a joke and where the line is and stuff. they would absolutely practice their aim with nerf/water guns. someone says that they, the ones in the Titans without the powers, are useless and both get absolutely pissed because the other is SO IMPORTANT TO THE TEAM IN THESE WAYS *proceeds to list 27 reasons and doesn’t think to defend self*

when they’re a little older, like teenagers, I think they’d have a lot of fun working together on cases. they’d butt heads but eventually it would be kind of instinctual, like okay Dick will take the lead on this case and Roy will be in charge for this one, and they won’t have to think before doing something that depends on the other because they just know what the other is going to do before they do it. if that makes sense. across the room at Superhero Meetings, they’re making faces/mouthing stuff at each other making inside jokes. Bruce is like “can you please stop.” and they say at the same time, “I have no idea what you mean.” they spar a lot, and continue the time honored tradition of hacky sack and arm wrestling when they’re bored. they always go to each other for advice. when one of them needs a break from life, they just show up at the other’s place. (Ollie, many times: “Bruce? Yeah your gremlin is here. ... Yes I called him a gremlin what are you gonna do about it. My son is making him feel better. ... We’ll have him home by tomorrow afternoon.”) and Dick definitely, 10000% asks Roy if he’d like to join the Titans again, and is sad when Roy says no. they also know exactly how the other likes a lot of foods, like Dick likes his coffee w tons of milk/cream, and Roy likes Hawaiian pizza, and how much is Too Much Mustard, etc etc

as for when they’re adults,,,,,,,,,, this is kind of dumb tbh but them just??? sitting together in silence/quiet music? doing paperwork? they’re not talking or anything, but they aren’t alone either, and once they’re done they’re going to hang but didn’t want to wait???? I love that. I love them having sleepovers as kids, not so much as teens, and then having them again (bc they were comforting, and bc they trust each other so much, and bc they want to stay up all night eating pizza and playing chubby bunny again). speaking of, they meet up and eat pizza together sometimes. I can decide if it’s better like, they’re in disguise? they’re obviously themselves? they’re in costume??? idk I love all of it. they have Shows and they probably try to go on missions together bc Roy is NOT waiting 2 months to watch the next episode absolutely not. they prank each others’ siblings, and by that I mean I’m picturing Roy and Connor (Conner? idk how to spell his name I’m sorry dkjfsdahh) hanging out and Dick pranks him in a way that Connor would IMMEDIATELY assume was Roy, but Roy is right there. within sight the whole time. (C: “what is this bullshit, a shapeshifter?”) 

when they’re like ADULTS adults... training kids together and reassuring the ones without powers that they’re just as capable, and cracking jokes that got old TWENTY YEARS AGO, DICKOLAS. (Roy is still laughing tho. don’t be fooled.) leading the Justice League together I’m 🥺🥺🥺 and ugh oh my god I’m having parents feelings lemme just

obviously they raise Lian together lmao this isn’t a question. holy fuck imagine them tucking Lian into bed at night. reading/telling her five stories (even tho Roy says 2 is really enough, but she just loves the voices they make and how Dick acts stuff out so muchhhh she doesn’t want it to end) before going to bed themselves. staying up to lay on the couch, on top of each other, and be like “WOW she’s adorable but I am so exhausted.” again w the shows but it’s always reruns of like Fresh Prince. they have a stash of food Lian can’t eat, like sugary cheat stuff, and sit at the table holding hands while they eat them. they are the most embarrassing parents ever oh my god they go to as many of Lian’s school events as they can and take videos and actually go back and watch them??? even though they were there??????? Donna comes over and is treated to a viewing of every single award Lian has ever won, which are displayed on the walls. I also have this headcanon Roy has to get glasses when he’s older, like in his 40s, and I think Dick would spend a lot of time helping him look for them lmao. please also imagine them dying their gray hairs together. standing in the bathroom, shirtless, laughing at how silly they look and also how the gray looks REALLY GOOD are you sure you want to dye it. I’m also losing my shit at the thought of them having chairs like !!! this is so domestic but there’s Roy’s Chair, which is soft and has a high back and pops out/reclines so he can chill, and there’s Dick’s Chair which is softer/fluffier, wider and smaller in the back, and it doesn’t recline but it does have huge armrests bc Dick sits sideways so he can look at both Roy and the TV. (they sit in these chairs with their grandkids and fall asleep in them all the time and they are perfectly apart so that they can hold hands comfortably.)

I’m also having NSFW ideas as well but this is already so much?????????

send me a “I wish you would write a fic where…”!!

[quitetommy]

i didn’t mean it

yeet freakin yeet!!! my angsty peter fic i told yall about!!!! almost 2K words!! quite possibly one of the longest ones ive ever done. so listen this whole thing is literally a trigger warning. there is an incident of “physical abuse” (using quotes bc its like not rly but like it is but like idk just read it and youll know what i mean) but stay warned and stay safe babes!!!

It felt like they were talking in circles. The young couple had this conversation over and over and over again. They talked and argued until they were blue in the face. And unfortunately this night was no different. Upon making her way into the small one bedroom loft, she let out a breath and moved to slam the door shut behind her. Unfortunately, her lovely boyfriend caught it before it was able to slam against the frame. The superhero sighed too, he slowly pushed the door shut, locking it. When he turned back around, his girlfriend was sitting on the small, dirty couch they owned. Her head was in her hands and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He had made her feel this way. He was the cause for this. It was always his fault.

He moved to sit in front of her, on the floor. The brunet placed his hands on her thighs. He was hoping it was an endearing gesture, but as soon as he did she jumped up from her seat. She put as much distance between her and the boy. She was acting like he had burned her with a simple touch to her legs.

Another skip to his heart.

Y/N had her hands in her hair, she was pacing around, heavy breaths leaving her small mouth. She was angry, furious, even. That’s when Peter decided to say something.

“Y/N, I-” His voice stopped short when she turned around on her heal. Her eyes held so much rage; an emotion that had never been in her eyes when looking at Peter Parker. Until now that is.

She threw her hands out, tired and exasperated, “Peter, I. . . “ She paused, shaking her head, “I can’t even look at you right now.”

The tired girl rubbed her eyes, sighing again. “Peter, you’re being ridiculous and controlling and jealous. I’m getting tired of it!”

Peter stood up, fists clenching. He was getting upset too. No longer was he the sweet boy that was going to apologize. No, now he was just as angry.

“What?” His voice was scary calm and she felt her blood run cold; He had never spoken to her like that before- the boy continued on, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat, “What did you just say?”

Y/N took in the sight of the upset boy in front of her. His eyes were wide and irate, his face had begun to turn red with fury, and his fists were clenched so tightly that she was worried he might break a finger or two. Ignoring this, and her better judgement, she countered his raging words.

“You heard me!” she yelled, in the back of her mind she was thinking about their neighbors and how they might get a noise complaint if they kept this up. “I never once said anything about you and Liz! Or you and Gwen! Or even you and MJ! Why is this any different?!”

Peter laughed. He actually laughed, and Y/N was actually questioning if he had lost his mind. And then she decided that he had when he spoke, “Because your my girlfriend! You should know better!”

Y/N laughed too, she placed her hands in her hair, pulling hard. Her body was so full of rage and hurt and every other emotion but happiness and love that she was shaking. She had never been so angry with the pretty boy before her. “What?! Know better than what?! What did i do that was so fucking bad, Peter?”

“Flirting!” It was one word. One word and the angry woman wanted to punch something, yell something, break something, through something. Anything. She was so fucking angry and she had never felt like this with Peter. Their fights were never this bad.

Peter yet again ignored the way her heart hitched when he yelled, instead he watched as she dropped her hands, laughing bitterly. “Fuckin’ hell, Peter. Flirting. What a fucking joke.”

She continued to shake her head at him, “I can’t with you anymore. Fuck.” The pretty girl threw her hands out, shrugging, tears were now at her eyes, ready to spill over. She wasn’t sad, no, she was angry. So, so, so fucking angry.

The small apartment was silent, no words were passed between the fighting lovebirds. That was until a sob was released from her mouth, an ugly gut wrenching breath following. Peter took a step forward, only for Y/N to take a few steps back. She was almost against the wall, trying to place some distance between the two. Peter was hurt, angry, sad. Maybe that’s why it happened. Maybe that’s why his emotions got the best of him. The following events happened so fast neither knew what was happening until it was too late for anything to happen.

Y/N nodded at the boy in front of her, “Never once have I ever questioned you about all the girls you’ve been with.” Her voice was soft at first, like she was testing out what she wanted to say and how it was to come off her tongue. Then she started to get louder with each word until she was yelling again. “Never have I ever doubted you! Ever!! And here you fucking come- with your insecurities and your fucking ‘i own you’ shit! Actin’ like you fuckin’ own the place! News flash, Peter Parker, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

Tears were streaming down her face as she yelled. “And for your information, I never flirted with anyone other than you! Unlike you, you’re always off bein’ all lovey with MJ and I never fuckin’ said anything!” She paused to take a breath, but then jumped right back into it, all of her anger from the past months coming out now. “Never said a fucking word. Not when you stood me up for her, not when you constantly talk about ‘er, not even when you have your fuckin’ heart eyes for her! Not even when people ask me how long you two have been together. You love her, Peter and I never-”

And before they knew it, Y/N was pushed up against the wall, a grunt leaving her parted lips, and Peter pressing one hand against her throat and the other on the wall next to her head. He was seeing red, red hot anger filling his usually cool veins. He punched the wall next to her, yelling out. The drywall easily cracked underneath his powerful hand. The pretty girl who was once yelling at her boyfriend in anger was now crying, fear in her eyes. That was when Peter finally spoke, “‘M not in fucking love with her. Don’t fuckin’ say that!” For a moment, just a moment, he had forgotten where he was. He had forgotten that he was talking to his adorably fragile girlfriend and not some insane criminal.

The spell was broken a few seconds later for Peter when his gorgeous girl grunted out, winded, “P-Peter, I can’t breathe.”

It was like he was seeing for the first time. His head was finally clear and there was no more hate in his heart. Now he was feeling regret and sadness and fear. When he realised what he had done, he immediately let go. He skidded back a few feet, trying to put as much room between them as he could. His heart shattered when he saw how Y/N reached up to place a soft hand on her burning throat.

Tears fell from Peter’s eyes as he watched the heartbreaking scene in front of him. His breath was choppy and fast, “Y/N, I-I-I didn’t- I’m so sorry!” He was shaking his head rapidly, breath now not coming to him. It was like they had switched- it was like he was the one with the vice on his throat, tightening until all his precious air was gone, never to return.

He watched through watery eyes how his girlfriend stepped closer to him, hands stretched out and mouth moving, forming words he couldn’t hear. “N-No! Don’t come near me!”

When she didn’t listen and stepped closer he stepped backwards. This only caused her to try again, this time she was able to reach out and touch him. This, however, sent him across the room and out the front door, leaving his wondering girlfriend in the quiet apartment.

Hours and many tears later, Y/N was in their shared bed, unfortunately alone. She had tried calling Peter ever since he left, but every time it went to voicemail and quite honestly, Y/N was starting to grow worried. Of course she didn’t blame the loving boy. She knew he didn’t mean it, she was just as angry and she could’ve easily done the same to him. She just really hoped he was alright.

It was another hour before the familiar sound of the lock twisting and then the door opening was heard through the loft. She didn’t move though, instead she stayed in their bed, her back facing the door. She wanted to see what he was going to do; she didn’t want to scare him off again.

Peter’s heavy footsteps made their way to the shared room, slowly. They stopped at the doorway, before a small sound of shuffle was made and then she felt him kneel down next to the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breath even, hoping that Peter thought she was asleep. Fortunately for her, he believed that she was. The sleepy girl felt Peter hesitantly put his hand on her arm. At first his fingertips just barely touched her, but then his whole hand came down, softly. She heard him sniff and then she felt his head on the bed.

This was when she decided to ‘wake up’. Opening her eyes and turning, she asked in her best sleepy voice, “Peter?” Her voice was like a waking call for him and he quickly ripped away his hand, hugging it close to his chest, and fell back onto his butt. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and he felt like absolute shit. “Peter, hey. I was so worried. Where-”

“Stop.” His voice was soft, scratchy. He was so sorry. He wanted to take the whole day back. He wanted to go back to this morning when it was just Y/N and him in their bed alone and happy. None of this bullshit. He was afraid that she was going to leave him.

She said his name again, “Peter.” This time sadly, tears in her voice, “Pete, please.” She reached out for him, her hand just barely coming in contact with his skin. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I-I hurt you.” He cried. She shook her head pushing herself up on her arms. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t. I’m so sorry, darling, I didn’t mean it.” He cried out again, tears spilling. Y/N pulled herself up and out of the bed and then over to him. She wrapped her arms around the sobbing boy. He just kept saying how he didn’t mean it over and over. It was like that was the only thing he knew how to say. Her hands came up to his curls and she pushed them away from his face, kissing his hairline. She nodded, “I know. I know you didn’t. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.” and that was when he pulled her close, saying it again, just for the both of them to hear it, “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.”

Taglist; @spider-bitten @bi-writer-in-the-dark @marvelouspottering @quacksin @friendscallme-emily @smexylemony @tom-hollands-eyelash @tomblrholland @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spideymood @positiveparker @laureharrier @procrastinatingparker @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl @Bodakcello @sleepybesson @spideyshcllands @its-the-unknownspidey @tomshufflepuff @aestheticgaybish

crossed out means i couldnt tag ya

[killmongerkink]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Erik, your roommate and friend, comes home from work drained and sick. After heading off to bed, you awake to strange noises and follow them back to his room. Little did you know what you would find behind closed doors.

Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens X Black!Reader

Warning: masturbation, dirty talk, a dash of smut.

Length: 4k

BTW: idk why this is so long, but i hope you all enjoy & please show this some love bc i’ve re-written this like 10 times already smh. sorry if there’s any spelling errors

Part 2

MASTERLIST

You stayed silent, swirling your fork continuously in your plate of spaghetti as you watched your roommate sniffle roughly for the tenth time, his eyes fighting to stay open. It really didn't make sense for him to be fighting his fate with sleep, yet here he was ... holding back yawns and rubbing his nose roughly with the back of his hand. "Well that's ... disgusting." You mumbled, sighing heavily as you reached over to grab him a tissue. "Why don't you just take some medicine and sleep it off?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

You really had no idea why this man insisted on being stubborn. You figured you could just ignore him for the rest of the night and go on about your business, but you knew you were way too nice to do that. If you did, you'd just be staring at your door the whole time, fighting the urge to make him some ginger tea or get him extra blankets. But you knew Erik. He wouldn't allow you to take care of him in the slightest. He was too big-headed, way too arrogant .. and simply a dumbass if you were being honest. He could be on the floor dying and he'd still tell you to leave him alone. You didn't understand his logic most of the time, but figured he was grown enough to make his own choices ... as dumb as they may be.

"You gonna stare me down all night?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you blinked quickly and look back at your food. Another sniffle met your ears a second later, this one making you cringe at the sound of thick mucus filling the kitchen.

"That's it." You said more to yourself than him.

You moved towards the cabinet and opened it, hoisting yourself up on your tippy toes as you tried to reach for the top shelf. You really weren't thinking when you allowed him to talk you into getting this fancy ass condo together. While it was nice, the cabinets were way too tall, you could never clean the floor to ceiling windows and god forbid you even attempted to change a lightbulb around here. In the back of your mind, you figured he had purposely chose this apartment because it would allow you to need him. He was weird like that. As much as he would huff and puff when you would ask for his help with a simple task, you knew that he liked the feeling of being needed.

When you came to the conclusion that you were just embarrassing yourself, you plopped back down on your feet and looked at him.

"Are you gonna even help me?" You rolled your eyes, watching as he stared at you with a half bored, half amused expression.

"I'm good."

You were this close to telling him off, but decided against it. Fights with Erik never ended in your favor. Somehow he was always able to flip the script and make it your fault, having such a way with words that you would start to second guess yourself and your stance in any given situation.

"Well you better pray I don't fall and bust my head open, you know the cops won't hesitate to snatch your ass up."

Ending your smart ass of a comment with a smile, you turned back around and raised your leg, resting a knee on the counter as you struggled, but finally succeeded in pulling yourself up. The countertop dug into your knees painfully, making you sway back and forth in effort to not be on them too long and you snatched the medicine pack from the cabinet. Huffing out a sigh, you made zero effort to sit down lightly as you fell back onto your butt and turned your body, sitting down.

As you were checking the expiration date on the half empty box of DayQuil flu pills, you didn't notice Erik's gaze on you.

Matter fact, you never noticed his gaze on you.

You had seen the women he would associate himself with and you were the exact opposite. While they all had long hair down their backs, you opted to rock your natural hair in your usual braid out or space buns. While they all wore tight clothing that excentuated their curves and hips, you felt most comfortable in a big oversized t-shirt and sneakers. They would be bold and blunt with what they wanted from the world, while you just stayed in the cut and let life drag you wherever it wanted to. To say you were the opposite of his type was an understatement, but you learned to deal with it. Everyone had their own type and you just weren't his.

Although you wish you were.

Throughout your months of living together, you tied to date around and make him jealous, hoping that Erik would magically realize that he wanted you to himself and demand that you see no one else but him. And you would've happily obeyed to his demands, but once again .. that was a fairy tale you had conjured up in your head. You knew that he could never like someone like you, and after a while you began to accept that.

Erik had wanted to fuck with you the first day he ran into you. You had this innocent glow that he wanted to corrupt in the worse ways. He would notice you on campus being the perfect little student that everyone knew you to be. Other people, including himself, would walk into class late with just a pencil behind their ear and their phone. Yet, you'd be one of the few with a large book bag next to them as you had notes, paper, and books spread out in front of you ready to learn. While everyone stood at the university bulletin board looking for the latest club flyer, you were pulling off babysitting and tutoring ads.

You were different and he liked that. He knew that his chances of getting with you weren't really slim. He'd seen the way you'd look at him when you thought he wasn't watching, but you were one of the few females he was cool with. Fucking up a good friendship just for a quick nut was dumb, didn't mean he didn't think about you though.

Your body is what caught his attention at first. Short and super thick, like real thick. Smother me with your thighs thick, but you seemed to not appreciate your extra curves. You liked to cover up and wear baggy clothes, something that he found cute but also hated. On one rare occasion, you came to him and asked for his opinion on your outfit. There was some important presentation you had to attend and the attire was business casual. You walked into his room, giving him a complete 360 of your white blouse and fitted gray skirt, the dimples in your ass pronounced. He probably jerked off to that imagine about three times that night.

Honestly, you were his dream girl in every aspect, but you were too good for him. You actually had positive things going on in your life and a future that rivaled his own pointless one. One day you'd be some successful ass doctor, while he was still scrounging around and doing the same ol' same ol'.

"Here, take two of these and go lie down. Don't even try to say you're fine, because that damn snot bubble you're trying to keep down is saying otherwise." You said before he could even get out a breath and placed the tablets on a napkin for him.

You left the box on the counter, figuring that he would need some later and started to pick up the dirty dishes and place them into the sink. After about 30 minutes, all the leftovers were packed away, the dishwasher was running and the stove and counters were cleaned. Erik has mumbled under his breath all the way to his room after helping, but you could care less. Atleast you could go to bed knowing you had tried to help him get better.

After your nighttime routine was completed, you dropped own onto your bed and cuddled your pillow as you waited for the sandman to come and whisk you away for the night.

3:57 am

You stared at your phone as you laid still. The sound of a loud thump had pulled you from your sleep approximately 15 minutes ago and you had been hearing strange noises on and off since. It couldn't have been an intruder, could it? If you remembered correctly, Erik made sure to lock the door after he came in from work.

Still, someone could've been experienced with locks and was now roaming the apartment. Or maybe it was your neighbors who had kids? What if someone was attacking them? You decided to play it smart and text Erik first, for all you knew it could’ve been him.

Minutes went by without a reply back and you rolled your eyes. Every other night he was up doing god knows what, yet the one time where you needed him to be awake and alert, he wasn't?

"Answer your fucking phone." You whispered to yourself.

When you finally came to the conclusion that he was going to be of no help, you quietly got out of your bed, wincing as it croaked underneath you. Damn boxspring. You opened your side table and pulled out your bright pink taser. It was a gift from one of your girlfriends that was given as a joke, yet now you were thankful for her crazy ass. She'd definitely be proud to know that you were about to put it to good use. Bracing yourself, you said a silent prayer and cracked open your door, holding your breath as you waited for movement to catch your ear.

THUMP.

Being the dumbass that you were, instead of waiting for the intruder to come to you, you decided to be a bold bitch and leave the safety of your room. If this was a horror movie you would've been cursing at the lead. You never leave where you are, always let the killer come to you. Not thinking, you continued to follow the noise until you were stopped in front of a door ... Erik's door to be exact.

Was he hurt? Was someone in his room? Was he currently taking his last breath as you stood frozen in front of his door? With your finger on the trigger of your taser, you quickly opened his door hoping to catch whoever it was by surprise. Little did you know how much of a surprise you were actually in for.

Erik sat in front of his desk, headphones in both ears, eyes unmoving and trained on his iMac screen. His nostrils flared as his bottom lip was lodged under the top row of his teeth, the air releasing from his nose coming out loud and heavy. Trailing your eyes down lower, you were met with his naked upper half, the screen illuminating on his skin and making his scars look as if they were glowing. You tried to distract yourself by looking at his computer screen, but that was a mistake. The screen showed a girl that looked a lot like you on all fours, one of her hands underneath her she pumped her fingers into her pussy roughly, her face contoured in pleasure as you heard her moans through his headphones. You looked away, eyes fixated back on Erik's face and you fought internally not to look lower. A part of you deep down knew that there was no going back once you caught a peek, but you couldn't help it. You had to.

Taking a quick breath, your eyes shifted and you felt your knees buckle beneath you, your taser falling from your hands. Your eyes twitched momentarily as you blinked, unable to believe what you were seeing.

Was this a dream? Was this all some sick, twisted, extremely sexy dream that your mind had conjured up?

Erik's large hand was moving up and down in even strokes, his hand gripping the black fleshlight tightly and creating a vile squelching sound each time it swallowed his dick. Every once in a while the fleshlight would hit against the desk, creating the loud thump that had you worried earlier. His other hand was gripping his base, his fingers cupping his balls underneath as his hips started to roll upwards. A second later he pulled the toy off of him, opting to use both of his hands instead as he increased his pace, your eyes finally getting to see what he actually looked like. The view was better than anything you could've guessed. A thick broad vein ran along his shaft, the glare from the computer causing it to glisten and look as if it was dipped in sugar syrup, the fluid motion of both his hands gliding up and down with a good amount left abandoned every time he reached his head letting you know that it was big enough to choke on.

"Fuck baby.."

Your eyes snapped up and met his, his lip now released as he smirked at you, staring in your eyes. You shuffled back slightly, your hand gripping the doorknob tighter as another grunt met your ears. You were slightly embarrassed at being caught. Any normal person would've apologized profusely and slammed the door behind them, yet here you were. Your mouth opened to spill whatever random excuse you could think, your mind going into overdrive.

"Eri- .. I didn't mean to .. I was just-"

"You got a sexy ass mouth." He mumbled, turning his body suddenly so he was facing you head on. Slouching down in his chair, he spread his legs causing his sweatpants to lock around the top of his thighs, almost as if he was silently begging you to step forward.

Your mind was telling you leave and just deal with the awkward repercussions in the morning, but your feet seemed to have a mind of their own as you slowly walked towards him. No words were said between the both of you after that. He simply nodded down to the floor and the next thing you knew, your knees were digging into the plush carpet. It was almost as if he was a puppet master. With the flick of his finger or nod of his head, you were following his silent commands with no resistance. He kept looking at you as he reached over and pulled his headphones from the computer input, the sounds from the girl filling the air around you. You couldn't front, between her moans and his glare, you were turning into mush. Watching the grip he had on his dick had you desperately yearning to play with yourself, you hand rubbing against your thigh catching his attention and causing him to lick his lips.

He leaned his head towards you, his dreads casting shadows over his face.

"Bout time you came. I been waiting for you."

Having him so close to you made you want to shrink away and disappear. You had been around Erik long enough to see the kind of effects he had on girls. The amount of drama that females had gone through the get his attention was wild. Switching up on their friends, changing their appearance, one even went as far as quitting her job just so she could spend the week with him in Miami. Bitches were crazy, or maybe it was Erik who was making them that way.

"You came to take care of me again? Always going out of your way to make sure I'm straight. You a good lil bitch huh?"

You mouth hung open, the thoughts in your head mimicing someone smashing their hands on a computer keyboard. If anyone else was to talk to you like this, you were pretty sure you would've gave them a dirty look and tell them to back the fuck up, but for some reason, hearing those words come from Erik's mouth made you moaning mess.

Literally.

Catching what you were doing, you felt embarrassment bubble inside of you. What was wrong with you? Were you really getting turned on by this man calling you a bitch? Coming to terms with it, you accepted that you were. There was a tiny part of you buried deep down that always fantasized about someone calling you names, treating you like a rag doll as they filled every hole you had. You just didn't think this someone would be Erik.

"You like that?" He watched as you nodded your head, a chuckle leaving his lips and his hand quickly gripped your face, causing your lips to pucker like a blow fish. "Always knew you were a freak."

Without another word, he pulled you forward causing you to shuffle quickly and grab onto the handles on his desk chair in order not to fall. You were pulled right up to his dick, the large statue staring back at you menancingly before it was being rubbed against your lips. You let him entertain himself for a while, enjoying the feeling of him getting off to your plush sets. You fixed them into suction cups, sucking the skin as he bucked his hips up and down, your tongue pressing against him and your lips spreading the wetness around him.

It was then that a sniffle met your ears, causing you to remember the events from the night before. You looked up at him, holding back your smile when you saw his red nose, which was extremely cute if you had to be honest. You moved back, softly moving his hands away and grabbing him fully in yours. He hissed when you started twisting your hand around his length. He was warm .. almost hot. How long had he been masturbating?

"You sick and all you could think about was jerking off?"

"All I could think about was you. I caught what you were doing earlier.” Caught of guard, your hand halted for a spare second, face twisted in confusion. All you did earlier was make dinner, like you usually did since he couldn't cook anything more than rice and ramen. You went to reply and ask what he was talking about when he rested his hand over yours, the both of your hands now working together over his length.

"Climbing up on the counter in just your t-shirt, ass hanging out at the bottom. You think you slick?"

"I didn't know it was out.."

He chuckled, like a real genuine chuckle, as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.

"Come here girl."

You assumed you were moving too slow, because only a second or two later he was lifting you up and situating you onto his lap, your thighs pressing against the chair handles. You remembered when he had ordered this big ass gaming chair, claiming the plushed back support was worth the grand he'd spent on it. There were so many things you could've spent a thousand dollars on and it for damn sure wasn't no chair, but it did come in handy. With its wide handles and large seat, you were more than comfortable even with your large thighs pressed against the sides. He bounced his legs roughly, the force causing your breast to bounce against your chest. If someone were to tell you that you'd be sitting in his lap, hand wrapped around his dick on a Tuesday night.. you would've laughed. A real hearty one as if you were watching a Katt Williams special. Yet, here you were. You couldn't believe it.

"What are we doing?" The question came from your lips in a soft whisper, almost as if you were scared for his answer. A part of you were. Maybe he would sit back and realize just how crazy this whole situation was before pushing you off and telling you to get out. Maybe he'd realize that you were still the same girl you'd always been and ask you what the fuck you were doing in his room. All of the negative things he could've responded with ran through your head. Why did you have to ask that?

"What you think we doing?" He leaned his head back, eyeing you. Before you could think of what to say, he reached and started scrolling on the computer.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you." You looked at him annoyed, going to grab his hand away from the mouse, just for him to move it quickly. Here you were trying to talk to him and he thought the computer was more important?

"I don't want us regretting this in the morning. We fucking live together Erik, we’re supposed to be friends. This is gonna be so awkward.. oh my gosh."

Looking past your lust momentarily, you realized just how messy this was. Everyone knew that friendships couldn't work after hooking up. Sure, people would fake the funk and act like they were buddy buddy after, but you knew the truth. It would be weird and uncomfortable. You'd slowly start hanging out less, one of you always busy and out the house, no longer able to hold conversations with one another. Eventually one of you would have to move out, there was no question about it. God forbid you had to move back in with your parents, not even to mention how many questions they would have. Maybe you could find a new place, or try to get something on campus .. or- sound coming from his speakers caught you off guard.

You turned to the right and watched as the PornHub logo popped up before the video started. It was of a black couple, the girl sitting on the guys lap as he rubbed her ass. They started making out heavily, the girls moans ringing through as the man started to roughly grope her.

"Nothing's gonna go left. I ain’t gonna let you get away from me so easily, trust me. Just relax and let me take care of you like you take care of me. Now start stroking." Erik wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him as he kissed your forehead, casting them down towards your nose and lips before detouring towards your neck.

Your blurry eyes set on the large screen, taking in the sight before you and realizing he was pretty much mimicking them. When a loud slap rang through the room, Erik would make sure to follow it up with a slap of his own. When the couple would kiss loudly, Erik would grab you by the neck and kiss you roughly, tongue all in your mouth and down your throat as his lips pretty much covered yours.

"How many times have you watched this?" You trembled, goosebumps forming against your skin as your eyes closed momentarily. Your body was way too worked up and you could tell he was too by the amount of pre cum that had leaked from his head onto your hand, his wetness coating him everytime you caressed him. He was too busy fondling with your pussy from the back to answer. His middle finger dipping perfectly between your lips and leaving barely there touches against your clit.

"Enough to know I wanna fuck you like that." His finger bypassed the material of your underwear and finally slipped in, your body shuddering as you started rolling your hips. One finger wasn't enough and you were pretty sure two would just barely itch the scratch you had built up. His command to “open your fucking eyes” caused you to look back at the screen, seeing the couples positions now flipped. The girl laid back on the seat, her legs in the air as the man positioned his dick at her entrance, one long stroke allowing him to enter as the girl cursed profusely.

"Dreamed of fucking you in this chair, your ass hanging off it as your knees press against your chest, big ass titties bouncing for me."

"Must be a dream cause I'm not that flexible." You joked, earning a bite at your earlobe.

"You'd be surprised what the body can do when the right one handles it."

taglist: @chaneajoyyy @softnani @iamrheaspeaks @thehomierobbstark @honeytoffee @madamslayyy @destinio1 @theogbadbitch @supersizemeplz @amethyst1993 @bakarisangel @marvelpotterlove

[reddeadmort]

Hey can I request an Arthur x female reader where the reader gets kidnapped by the O’Driscolls and they take advantage of her. Which then Arthur finds her a couple days later with John and takes her back to camp. The reader asks Arthur to help her forget about the last couple of days (smuttttyyyyyXD) and Arthur’s like really soft and slow with her but has his hand on her throat the entire time bc she’s is a kinky bitch! Btw your stories fucking SLAPPPPP they sooo goood gosh

Okay, this has been sat in my inbox for ages, sorry anon! This story is a bit different from the request as I really didn’t want to leave the reader alone with the O’Driscolls for too long and didn’t want there to be any actual ‘taking advantage of’. So, instead, the reader is *almost* taken advantage of, with some minor sexual assault (groping) implied as happening during the kidnapping. Obviously, big trigger warning, please don’t read if any of the guidance notes will make you uncomfortable.

This is my longest and most explicit attempt at smut, hopefully it *hits the spot*!

Arthur x f! reader | Safe places and words | NSFT

Guidance: Violence, threats of sexual assault, implied minor sexual assault (groping), almost major sexual assault. Smut, but unrelated to/separate from mentions of assault. Smut includes blowjob, choking, and biting. NSFW/NSFT

Words: 4k (this just kept on going).

“That’s great Jack, well done!” You patted Jack on the back as he carefully reeled in the small fish. “See I knew you’d manage it! Uncle Arthur’s been giving you some fishing tips hasn’t he.” Jack jumped up and down excitedly as you carefully unhooked the fish from the line to show to him. “Here, hold still, lift it up, I’ll take a picture for your parents before we throw it back.” You took the picture as quickly as you could – you were pretty sure it would be blurry, thanks to Jack being incapable of holding in his energy.

“Thanks Auntie Y/N, maybe this isn’t so boring!” Jack said as he threw the little fish back in the river. You were both watching it swim away when you heard a voice behind you.

“Well ain’t this…. Sweet”. You turned sharply to look at the three new arrivals, instinctively moving jack behind you, one hand resting on you revolver. Shit. O’Driscolls. What the hell are they doing this close to camp?

“Look, fellas, I don’t want no trouble. I’m just relaxing with the kid.” You wanted to back away further, but you were already at the edge of the water. Two of the men were moving slowly towards you, one on each side, blocking any escape; you were fast with your revolver, but not fast enough to take down all three, and you couldn’t risk anything happening to Jack.

“We can see that girly” the leader sneered, standing in front of you. “Tell you what, why don’t we help out? We can teach the lad a thing or two….” As he said this, the leader nodded to the man to your left, and before you could do anything he grabbed at Jack. You launched yourself at him, only to be grabbed from behind by the other man. He pulled your arms behind your back as you kicked and screamed, hoping desperately someone might hear. Jack had started crying; the noise of his sobs made your adrenaline surge even further.

“You really don’t want to do this, his dad and the others will come after you.” You tried to slow your breathing, bring your heart rate under control. The only way you were getting out of this was with words.

“Oh, we know girl, we know. That’s exactly why we’re doing this.” The leader smirked at you as your heart sank. “You’re going to go back to your little camp and tell Marston that we’ve got his precious little boy. Then you’re going to tell him to come to us, alone, tomorrow at noon. We’ll send a message tomorrow with a location, maybe with a bit of….motivation attached. If he doesn’t come, or if he doesn’t come alone, we’ll start using bits of little Jack here for fish food.”

“You bastards! They’ll kill you all!” you screamed at the man, unable to control your rage.

“No, missy, they won’t. Because if they try, Jack’s mother will be burying him as well as his father. Well, burying whatever is left of him anyway.” Jack was still sobbing, he didn’t really understand what was going on, but he knew from your reaction that you were in trouble. “Come on lads, let’s get going. Give her a clout, best if she’s out for a while.” The man behind you released one of your arms, drawing his pistol and raising the butt above your head, ready to strike.

“WAIT!” you yelled, breaking free and rushing forwards. Your mind was racing, you had to get Jack out of this situation.

“Take me. Take me instead, let Jack go back to camp.”  The men laughed at this, you were going to have to try harder. “I’ll be quieter than him. I won’t cause trouble.” The man holding Jack was starting to walk away, and you could hear the man behind you moving closer again. Think, think! “I…..you….. you could have some fun with me.” The words almost made you puke, the thought of these men touching you, but you’d do anything to save Jack.

That got their attention. The leader stepped closer to you, still grinning a horrible, evil, gappy grin. “Nah, missy, as tempting as that sounds, you ain’t as valuable. Dutch ain’t going to send one of his main men out looking for one of you camp bitches.”  

“I ain’t just one of the girls.” You were going to regret giving this information away, you knew it, but you had to convince them to make the trade.

“Well then missy, who are you exactly?” The man leered at you, moving even closer, so you could feel his breath on your face.

“Y/N. Y/N Morgan.”  That name had the desired effect, and the leader gave a low whistle.

“Arthur dead would hurt Dutch more” the man holding Jack grunted at him.

“It sure would, Peter, it sure would…..” Before you could do anything, the man in front of you had grabbed you by the throat.

“Right, girly, I think we’ll take you up on your offer. And I mean all of your offer” the man’s face was almost touching yours now, and his breath made you almost gag. “You’ll only scream when we want you to. And believe me, you’re going to need to scream. You ain’t getting out of this. We’ll make sure Mr Morgan sees us slit your delicate little neck, and we’ll make him watch as you slowly die.”

Your heart was racing, but you kept your face perfectly still; you didn’t want to give them the pleasure of seeing the fear you were experiencing.

“I’ll be quiet” you said, through gritted teeth. “Just let me put Jack on my horse and send him off, it’s too far for him to walk.”

“Fine. Be quick. And only because we need him to get back to camp to tell Mr Morgan where you are.” He released you and practically threw you at Jack. Shaking, you walked over and took a still sobbing Jack from the other man. You carefully placed him on your horse, and quickly started scribbling a note.

“Girl, what the hell do you think you’re doing” the man snatched at the paper, but you pulled it away from him.

“I’m writing down the instructions, you bastard. He’s only young, even if he does remember them he’ll be too upset to say anything” you snarled back at the man. He sneered at you, before calling out to his men.

“You two, check the note.”

“Hey, you know I can’t read.”

“Me neither.”

“Goddammit” the leader muttered. You guessed that neither could he. “Just hurry up girl, before I decide to send the boys lifeless body back on the damn horse” he snapped at you before walking over to his own. You quickly finished the note and handed it to Jack.

“Right Jack, I know you’re upset, but I need you to be a brave boy for me, okay? My horse should take you directly back to camp, don’t worry. You hold on as tight as you can, and when you get to camp you give this note to Uncle Arthur, okay?” Jack swallowed and nodded, tears still dripping down his face. “I love you Jack, remember that.” With those last words, you slapped your horse on the rear, sending it trotting off back up the path.

With your back to the O’Driscolls, you quickly and silently slipped a knife from the sheath strapped to your thigh and sliced the blade across the palm of your hand. You winced slightly, staying as still as possible, hoping they hadn’t noticed. Keeping your fist clenched, you turned just as they grabbed you, pulling off your weapons and knocking the knife out of your other hand.

“Nice try missy. Now, you’re riding with me. I want a little…..preview of the fun we’re going to have tonight.”

You said nothing, and let the man bundle you onto his horse, sitting behind you. One hand on the reins, the other gripping you tightly – and not by the waist – you set off. You held your cut hand out as far as you could, under the pretence of needing balance, and squeezed, feeling the blood run over your fingers. You just hoped you could keep it bleeding for as long as possible.  

——

John was the first to see Jack and your horse as they gently trotted back into camp. At first, he wasn’t too concerned, expecting to see you right behind; but as they got closer, he realised you weren’t there.

“Jack, what’s happened? Where’s Y/N?” Jack immediately burst into tears, and John quickly hoisted him off the horse and hugged him tight.

“There….was…..some…..men” Jack managed to get the words out between sobs. “I have a….” Jack held the crumpled note up to his father; it was slightly damp from his tears.

“ARTHUR!” John yelled, opening the note.

“John, what the hell do you want” Arthur grumbled as he walked over.

“O’Driscolls have got Y/N” John said, his voice cracking slightly, as he handed the note to Arthur. Arthur’s face paled as he read your hastily written instructions. “Any idea what those last two words are?” John asked before handing Jack to Abigail, who had been attracted by his shout.

Arthur looked at the two words at the end of the note. ‘Strawberry Doe’. You hadn’t dared write more than that. But Arthur didn’t need anymore to understand what you’d done.

“John, get your guns. We’ve got some killin’ to do.” Arthur growled.

“But Arthur, we don’t know where they’ve gone.” It wasn’t really a protest - John was already prepping the saddle on his horse -  more a panicked comment.

“She’s left us a trail. We’ll track ‘em down like the animals they are.” John didn’t think he’d ever seen Arthur’s eyes like this. They were cold, emotionless, like he’d shut down.

As the two men rode out of camp, pounding towards the fishing spot, Arthur finally felt something other than rage start to sweep over him. It was fear. The fear of losing you, the fear of not being able to protect you…….

—–

It was early evening when you finally stopped at an abandoned old hut. Stuck in front of this lecherous, disgusting creature of a man, you had basically frozen, letting your mind disassociate. The ride was horrible, uncomfortable, but nothing more than you’d experienced in many saloons; at least those drunk bastards got their comeuppance when they groped you.

You were pulled roughly off the horse, your hands tied behind your back, and led into the dark basement. You knew what was coming, you just prayed that you could endure it for as long as it took Arthur to find you.

To your surprise, the leader shoved you to the floor before turning to leave.

“Me and the boys are going to eat before our fun starts, sweetheart” he leered at you. “Need to make sure we’ve got plenty of… energy.” He paused, licking his lips, before shutting the doors to the basement behind him, leaving you in total darkness.

Finally alone, you let a little sob escape from your throat. All you could think about was Arthur. Would you ever see him again? Would he even be able to look at you if he did?

And so you sat, in the cold, in the darkness, waiting.

——

Arthur and John rode in silence, occasionally stopping to search for the next part of your trail. There was nothing to say; there was no plan, only anger and fear. These men were going to die, and not well.

“Arthur…. I can’t see anythin’.” It was early evening and the light was fading fast.

“John, just keep lookin’!” Arthur snapped. “There has to be somethin’. Has to be……”

John didn’t retort, he knew it wasn’t him Arthur was angry at. He looked around, and spotted something in the distance.

“Arthur! Smoke. Looks like it’s comin’ from a cabin. Might just be normal folks though.”

“It’s our best hope. Come on.”

——

You had no idea how long you’d been down there in the dark. You’d done your best to keep calm, concentrating on your breathing. Stumbling around in the dark, unable to use your hands, you’d found a chair and a table; you’d crawled under the table and sat in the corner, back to the walls. It made you feel a bit safer; you tried to pretend that it was Arthur’s chest you were leaning against, not this damp, slimy, old stone.

Eventually, you heard the creak of the basement door hatches, and a figure made its way down with a lantern. Very briefly, you let yourself pray it was Arthur; but no, he was too short, too fat. You swore at yourself for even thinking it; of course it wasn’t Arthur, you’d heard no commotion, no gunshots. You didn’t even know if he was coming. Had Jack made it back? Had your horse actually gone back to camp, had Jack managed to cling on? Had Arthur understood your message?

Your slightly panicked thoughts were interrupted by the man grabbing you by the ankle, pulling you out from under the table, causing the back of your head to slam into the floor.

“It’s playtime girly! Now you better make some noise for me you little whore.” He lifted you up roughly by the front of your shirt then grabbed you hard by the chin. He moved his face next to yours and slowly, disgustingly, licked your cheek. “Just pretend I’m your big, bad outlaw. But don’t get too excited, me and the boys will be taking turns all throughout the night. And we don’t want you passing out now… it’s no fun if you aren’t awake to feel it.”

You wanted to fight back, to do something, anything but you couldn’t. You were completely frozen.

“Not even going to beg me? Well you’re a nasty girl ain’t ya.” With that, he turned you around and slammed your face and chest into the table, bending you over. Using your bound wrists to keep you pushed down, he pulled at your trousers with one hand, pulling them down to your knees. You heard him fumbling with his belt buckle, and you could have sworn that you were suddenly looking down on the scene from above; you could see yourself, bent over, face completely emotionless, and him, pulling at his trousers, pushing them down.

Suddenly, a familiar crack of a gunshot sounded above you, followed quickly by a series of others. You could hear yelling and screaming mixed in with the gunfire. The man released you, scrabbling over to the chair where he’d put his gun belt, reaching it as the basement doors flew open. He’d just pulled his gun out of the holster when a shot rang out, shattering his hand and sending the gun flying. Deafened slightly by the noise, you tried to stand up, struggling, and turned just enough to see the familiar shape of Arthur smash his revolver across the man’s face, sending what few teeth he had left flying. You’d never seen him hit anyone that hard before; sometimes, his strength was almost scary.

Arthur’s heart almost exploded with pain when he looked at you, trousers roughly pulled down, struggling to stand up. He quickly moved to you, leaving the unconscious man behind him. One brief flick of his knife and you were free; the first thing you did was grapple with your trousers, trying to pull them up. You never wanted Arthur to see you like this, not with another man, willingly or not. There were tears in the corner of his eyes as he grabbed you by the face, scanning yours for any injury.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner Y/N, so sorry” he said, choking on the words slightly.

Finally, with him stood in front of you, your adrenaline started to fade and a wave of relief washed over you. You threw your arms around him, breathing in his familiar, musky smell. You tried to say something, but all you could do was cry. In between sobs, you managed to explain that Arthur had arrived just in time. He held you tight, his arms and warmth seeming to form a protective bubble around you. After a few moments, he picked you up and took you up the stairs to a waiting John.

As soon as you saw John, your first thought went to his little boy. “Jack…. Is Jack okay? They were going to take him, John, I’m so sorry…..” As you spoke, Arthur gently let you down, standing you upright. John pulled you in for a hug, holding your face to his chest.

“He’s fine Y/N, he’s fine. Thanks to you. I’ll never forget this, you hear? Never.”

“John, you wait with her and the horses. I’ve got somethin’ to finish.” Before you could say anything, Arthur had grabbed some rope and walked away back into the basement. You thought about stopping him, but it only took a moment for you to decide the man deserved whatever was about to happen. John led you and the horses a little way off, but you could still see Arthur drag the man out by his hair, sitting him against a tree and tying him to it. You heard the man’s bloodcurdling screams as Arthur took his manhood from him, then begging as Arthur chucked what looked like bait on his bloodied lap.

Arthur walked back to you and John, wiping his blood-stained knife with a cloth.

“You finished?” John asked. He’d not seen Arthur do anything like this before; beat a man, yes, threaten, of course, even kill; but this….. this was a whole other level of rage.  

“I’ve done what I needed. I’ve left the wolves to do the rest.” Arthur muttered as he climbed onto the saddle behind you.

The ride back was silent; no-one knew what to say. Arthur held you tightly to him by the waist, clinging to you as if for dear life. Occasionally he gently kissed you on the neck, but only after asking you if he could. He’d never asked before; you knew he was just trying to be kind, make sure you were okay, but you hated it. You just wanted things to be exactly like they were before; you were scared he’d never look at you in the same way again.

When you arrived back at the camp, everyone came to fuss over you. You entertained them for as long as you could before pulling Arthur away to your shared tent.

Arthur was surprised when you grabbed at his face as soon as he’d pulled the flaps down. You kissed him hard, hungrily, biting at his lips. He kissed you back, but more hesitantly, causing you to pull away.

“Arthur……”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I just…..I’ll go, you’ll want some time alone.”

“Arthur Morgan, you have never tried to tell me what I do and don’t want. Do not start now.” You didn’t give him time to reply before once again pulling him back in for a kiss. This time, he didn’t resist, and gently brought his hands up to rest on your shoulders.

You let your hands drop from his face as you slowly undid his shirt buttons. As your hands moved back up his chest, you let them brush lightly over his nipples, making him moan, before pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Once again, you moved you hands over his chest, this time down to his belt. He grunted slightly as you pulled at it, swiftly undoing it and the top button as his hips pushed forwards. You slowly slipped your thumbs under the waistband and gently pulled his trousers down, levering them forwards over his erection.

You knelt as you guided his trousers to the ground, and Arthur’s hands moved to the back of your head. He let out a little grunt as you licked the head of his cock, before you took him in your mouth in one swift movement. He groaned and gripped your hair as you slid him in and out of your mouth, soaking him. You moved your hand up to his on the back of your head, wrapped it around his fist, and used it to pull your own hair. Arthur understood the signal, and pushed his hips forwards, driving himself into the back of your throat, making you gag. He pulled out slightly, letting you recover, before using his firm grip on your hair to dictate your speed. Soon, the movement of his hips became slightly erratic, and panting, he pulled away from you. This was just the prequel, he wasn’t about to ruin the main event.  

You stood up, undoing your trousers as Arthur made short work of your shirt. You lay down on the bed as Arthur pulled your trousers off, pausing momentarily to stare at you, completely naked before him. You shouldn’t have worried; his gaze was just as it always was, hungry, desperate to touch you, mind blank save for the thought of you.

Arthur was quickly on top of you, one hand tucked under your shoulder, the other moving between your legs. You moaned softly as he gently rubbed you, spreading your wetness up and over your clit. As he massaged it with his thumb, moving in steady circles, he slipped a couple of fingers inside you, testing you. No matter how much he wanted you, how much he needed you, he always made sure you were ready. And you were. 

He shifted forwards, replacing his thumb with the tip of his cock, rubbing against you. He kissed you as he pushed in, all the way, making you gasp and shudder. He bit your neck as moved back a fraction, before pushing deep again. He enjoyed this bit the most; every time felt like the first time you’d ever taken him, your reaction always the same. He gently started to move his hips backwards and forwards, kissing you, building up a rhythm as his hand moved to massage you breast. Your hand moved from his back to his wrist, and gently guided it up to your throat. He paused, looking into your eyes, slight concern showing on his face.

“You sure darlin’?” You nodded and bit your lip.

“Arthur please…. I want to feel normal. I want to feel loved…. I want to feel safe.” To anyone else, safe would have seemed like an odd choice of word to use, with a large man lying on top of you, hand on your throat. But it was true; this made you feel safe. Arthur would never hurt you, was always guided by you; you were always in control, even if it didn’t look that way.  

Arthur delicately kissed your lips before thrusting hard into you. His grip on your throat tightened, just enough to restrict your breathing and blood flow slightly. You kept your hand on his wrist, guiding his pressure, gently pulling at it if he put too much weight on you. He always responded immediately. Every time he pounded into you, he’d stop briefly when he was fully enveloped, grinding himself into your clit, just like you’d shown him. It wasn’t long before you were both on the brink. You came first, digging your nails into his skin, gasping his name. As soon as you had, he removed his hand from your throat and you lifted yourself up, biting his nipple; this took him over the edge, and he swore as he pushed into you hard, almost uncomfortably deep. He collapsed onto your chest, and you both stayed there for a moment, not moving, just listening to the other’s breathing.

“Thankyou Arthur. I needed that. It might not make much sense but….I….needed to regain some control.”

“Darlin’ that don’t surprise me. Though, honestly, you don’t ever make much sense to me.” He grinned, before sitting up, releasing you. “Now, we best get some rest. I think Jack wants to spend tomorrow with his favourite Aunt.”

“He’s a sweetheart, he really is. I might stay in the camp this time though” you chuckled, sitting up and resting your head on Arthur’s shoulder. He kissed you softly on the top of the head, stroking your lower back.

“You do whatever you want darlin’. I’ll always be here.”

[ajokeformur-ray]

@misskuuderechan - yoi matchup bc tumblr is a butt and cut off the last part of your matchup

I am a Heterosexual Female who has Black hair with brown-red eyes. I also have slight autism and not many people know about it, and this is the reason why I tend to be alone and giggle a lot at Unnecessary times. I like cats and Dogs, sweets, and I love listening to Music that’s anything as long as I like it. I don’t like spicy food, people who talk to me like I’m a child and Spiders. I also like to believe in the Supernatural as I do like to think there is someone there watching over me. My attitude is Almost Like Chloe Price’s in a way, although I’m not as Rebellious as she is. I do want Piercings and I want Tattoo’s as well. I’m also a secret yet bold person, and I can barely hold myself in an Argument. In my spare time, I will be seen listening to Music, Writing Fan fiction On wattpad and Drawing. I’m also an Emotional Person at Heart even though I do not show it, as if I need to let out Tears I’ll go into a room or place by myself where no one can see me. Also, I am Hoping that within a few Years time, I’ll be able to Cut my hair and Donate it To those who need it. When I’m older, I hope to Become an Author, as i Write stories a lot. In my group of Friends, I’m probably the mother Friend of my group, and I’m probably the one who swears a lot. I think my Friends see me as quiet yet sometimes loud, and Funny. Around Children, I can Also Be Motherly. When I see a child falling over and hurting themselves I’ll walk over and Help

Yuri Plisetsky

- The two of you spend a lot of time together sitting and listening to music. Yurio isn’t a loner but I think he’s quite introverted so sometimes it’s just the two of you for long stretches of time, not talking unless you feel the need to. Yurio finds your random giggles endearing and reluctantly cracks a smile every time you do it, unable to hold back his usually stony composure. When there’s a spider, Yurio’s only too happy to rescue you, not seeng the big deal about it but removing it from your sight anyway.

- You’re secretive but bold, a contradiction in and of itself, and something that Yurio can’t understand but he does he best to because he’s intrigued by you. You have creative hobbies and Yurio is only too happy to leave you to it but also to look over what you’ve created, if you wanted him to. When you cry, he knows, and he follows you, giving you the option without saying anything to accept his comfort or not.

- You look after your friends and your caring nature calls to something within Yurio, who is often overlooked and left in the shadows, especially during competitions. So your unwavering support and ability to tell him when he’s being a bit of an idiot endears, infuriates and confuses him. You’re an enigma he wants to fully understand and through this, he falls in love.

[slaivetanaka]

slaive character chart (it long)

Character Chart Character’s full name: Slaive Tanaka Reason or meaning of name: uh when i was 13 i made him and he was born into slavery so he just rolled with it when he broke out the storys dumb i gotta redo it lmao// or change his name Character’s nickname: Kitten Reason for nickname: bc hes a catboy what do you want from me.... Birth date: January 13th Physical appearance Age: 20 How old do they appear: 20 Weight: variable, current story hes a shape shifter so it depends on his mood but hes like never skinny. id say 140 pounds ish? at least. hes usually got a lil chub Height: 5 feet Body build: pear shaped, nice hips, thighs n booty Shape of face: quite round with it getting more pointed towards his chin but not by much Eye color: his right eye is always colored but his left eye is a slightly dark red Glasses or contacts: he wears glasses to be cute sometimes lol Skin tone: pale, like almost grossly pale Distinguishing marks: a mole under his left eye, stretch marks on the back of his thighs and his butt and his hips, and patchy scars on the back of his neck Predominant features: he has really sultry and soft lips so he has a nice smile. his skin is also super soft and squishy Hair color: black Type of hair: silky and only slightly thick. not very textured but he mooses the back to make it spike slightly like sasuke hair Hairstyle: bangs cover his right eye, behind where his ears would be is mused to be fluffier and slightly spiked Voice: very very sweet, but not childish or naiive sounding. feminine, relatively normal, maybe a little high pitched. intonation is slightly motherly, cracks when he gets nervous/excited Overall attractiveness: hes hot lets face it. hes pretty attractive! Physical disabilities: i mean hes a clumsy ditz but nothing like a disability besides his right eye going slowly blind being behind his hair Usual fashion of dress: at home - off the shoulder shirts/dresses, never wears pants at home. out n about casual - flowy dresses, stockings, cute socks, bibs (those are like the shorts overalls). out n about tryin too hard - he wears lolita sometimes lmao so like sweet lolita with lots of accessories and hair clips and ribbons

Favorite outfit: off the shoulder sweater dress with noooo pants and cute thigh highs Jewelry or accessories: he wears a red fleece collar with a gold tag with an S on it Personality Good personality traits: Kind, Generous, Perceptive, Motherly, Loyal, Determined, Studious. Bad personality traits: Overly generous, Naiive, Stubborn, Ditzy, Overzealous, Blunt Mood character is most often in: Peppy! Sense of humor: jyushimatsu makes him laugh... and things like shitty tumblr memes... Character’s greatest joy in life: his dead mom :) Character’s greatest fear: losing his little brother Why? why?????? uh because thats his lil baby brother hes 8 years younger than him he loves him  What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? uh losing his brother lmao hes all he lives for Character is most at ease when: he’s in the bath with hot cocoa and candles lit Most ill at ease when: he’s forced into new situations with no warning Enraged when: someone harasses someone else or his baby brother is hurt Depressed or sad when: he thinks about his mom or on just bad days Priorities: taking care of his brother and gaining enough money to live without worry Life philosophy: Do unto others as you want done unto you If granted one wish, it would be: To be filthy stinkin’ rich Why? He would want his mom back, but knows she passed because she was sick, so he wants to focus on keeping his brother and himself safe and well taken care of Character’s soft spot: his broooother, animals Is this soft spot obvious to others? oh yeah aaaabsolutely Greatest strength: his determination, physical strength, and flexibility Greatest vulnerability or weakness: being deceived, pretty people, kids (he cant be mean to ppl hes attracted to or that remind him of his brother lol) Biggest regret: not spending more time with his mom Minor regret: not knowing what to do about his brother was being bullied Biggest accomplishment: getting an apartment for his brother and himself Minor accomplishment: getting hired at a maid cafe lmao Past failures they would be embarrassed to have people know about: when he was little he couldnt understand why his bits were different from his moms and he cried about it, when he failed baking, when he went to a garden and tried to feed the ducks and was surrounded by them and had to be rescued by a group of strangers Why? uh bc its embarrassing lmao Character’s darkest secret: shhh thats private its a secret Does anyone else know? nope not a soul Goals Drives and motivations: mainly his brother Immediate goals: keeping he and his brother fed Long term goals: moving up in an art industry and becoming famous How the character plans to accomplish these goals: he has a few friends who are in college courses for art so he talks to them about it a lot to improve himself How other characters will be affected: he and his brother will be better off! Past Hometown: super countryside japan Type of childhood: difficult but happy Pets: none but he wants tons of pets First memory: smelling his moms pancakes early in the morning Most important childhood memory: learning to make those pancakes with his mom Why: he eats em all the time and it reminds him of her Childhood hero: his mommmmm Dream job: being an artist Education: none Religion: none Finances: self sufficient farm life lol Present Current location: outskirts of kyoto city Currently living with: his brother Pets: none Religion: none Occupation: maid cafe worker/chef Finances: uh i dont know what this means hha Family Mother: Karen Relationship with her: he loves her so much Father: none Relationship with him: none Siblings: Karin Relationship with them: he adores him, he was adopted and named after his mom Spouse: none :c Relationship with them: none Children: none Relationship with them: none Other important family members: Grandpa, Karen’s mom, who was like his dad but too old to do much.  Favorites Color: Red Least favorite color: None, but if he had to choose then green Music: J-pop, happy music, kikuo Food: mom’s pancakes, hearty soups and pastas, chocolate Literature: ehhh none Form of entertainment: drawing Expressions: Never give up, Do unto others as you want done unto you Mode of transportation: Biking Most prized possession: His collar Habits Hobbies: Drawing, singing, cooking/baking, biking around town Plays a musical instrument? Flute, piano, violin Plays a sport? nope How he/she would spend a rainy day: Huddled under a kotatsu with Karin drinking warm drinks Spending habits: junk food and clothes Smokes: No Drinks: Rarely Other drugs: No What do they do too much of? eat.. junk,... food.... What do they do too little of? socialize Extremely skilled at: baking Extremely unskilled at: sports Nervous tics: biting his lips, his ears lowering, tail twitching, shaking his leg Usual body posture: slouched and tired at home, but straight and hands together in public, arms are relaxed around friends tho but he stands very straight Mannerisms: playing with the bangs on the left side of his head, rubbing his arm with the other hand, blinking a bit too often, rocking on his feet or when he sits Peculiarities: uhhh i have no idea Traits Optimist or pessimist? Optimist Introvert or extrovert? Introvert Daredevil or cautious? Cautious Logical or emotional? Emotional Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Methodical and neat Prefers working or relaxing? relaxing Confident or unsure of themself? Unsure Animal lover? ABSOLUTELY Self-perception How he/she feels about himself/herself: “Needs to be better, better, better” One word the character would use to describe self: “Cute!” One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: PARAGRAPH UGH “About me? Well, I’m pretty hard working, and I like to think I’m nice! But you can always be nicer, yknow? I’m happy to meet new people and try new things but only when I have help doing so, haha. I work at a maid cafe with a lot of cute, sweet girls, they’re really nice! Oh, but I’m supposed to describe myself, um... I like sweets? I’m very flexible! And I love spending time with my brother! Nice to meet you!”

What does the character consider their best personality trait? “Perceptiveness!” What does the character consider their worst personality trait? “Stubbornness...” What does the character consider their best physical characteristic? “My thighs or my lips!” What does the character consider their worst physical characteristic? “My stretch marks, they make my skin feel uneven...” How does the character think others perceive them: “A weirdo probably~” What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: “I want to be stronger!” Relationships with others Opinion of other people in general: Anxious but optimistic Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others? Not if they’re friends, but if they’re coworkers or strangers he might Person character most hates: his birth parents Best friend(s): Karin! Love interest(s): n/a Person character goes to for advice: :’) he prays Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Karin!! Person character feels shy or awkward around: anyone he finds attractive Person character openly admires: Karin~ Person character secretly admires: n/a Most important person in character’s life before story starts: uh his mom After story starts: Karin

HOLY SHIT THAT TOOK FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!