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drabbles-mc · 2 years ago

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Help Wanted

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Ok. To go off of you SOA post about the guys taking care of a dog. I love the idea of them running a doggy daycare (maybe after Jax is prez) as part of their “legitimate business l endeavors. Would you be interested in writing something like that? It seems so comical & fluffy at the same time! Maybe throw in a Juice/reader love story, like she gets a job working there and she has dog experience that those “big bad bikers” don’t lol. Cue dog whisperer & Juice being all heart eyes 😍

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 7.8k (idk what happened please don’t ask)

A/N: I won’t lie, the fic that I intended to write for this request is not what ended up happening. Idk where the hard left turn happened but I’m not upset about it! I hope you enjoy where this all went. All I know is that I hope that Juice and reader have a life full of happiness and puppies together. Also I love Jax in this because he’s such a goddamn nudge lmao

SOA Taglist: @garbinge @masterlistforimagines @espieviolet99 @mijop @chibsytelford @thanossexual @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @buckybarneshairpullingkink @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @bellisperennis0 @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @beardburnsupersoldiers @mveggieburger @xeniarocks @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @withmyteeth @beardsanddetectives @juicyortiz @bruxasolta @i-love-scott-mccall @be-my-dear @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)

“I don’t know why you guys thought this was a good idea,” Juice shook his head as he pored over the paperwork spread out on the table in front of him.

Tig rolled his eyes, scratching behind the ears of the dog in his lap, “Because it’s dogs, man. Can’t go wrong with dogs.”

Juice looked up from his laptop screen, “But we know nothing about running a business like this.”

“We don’t have to. That’s what we hire other people for,” Tig reached, slapping Jax lightly on the chest, “Right?”

Jax chuckled, nodding because he knew that he’d lost this argument against Tig and Happy the second that it got brought to the table, “Right.”

Juice huffed out a sigh as he dove back into everything that was in front of him. It wasn’t the idea that he had a problem with. A Sons-sponsored doggy daycare sounded exactly like something that would get set up in Charming. It was a bit ridiculous, but it could work out just fine and be a perfectly good new way to make money. People spend ridiculous amounts of money on their pets, a point that Happy had made less eloquently when the idea first got brought up in church. The idea wasn’t the problem. Executing the idea was where they were going to run into a bit of a mess. Everything else that they got involved in, they already had people lined up to run it and keep things going smoothly. Not this. This was just a pipe dream that Jax wasn’t looking to deny anyone. And yet somehow Juice was the one left scrambling to put it all together.

“You guys gonna help me with any of this?” Juice asked, “Or are you just gonna sit around and watch me work?”

Jax stood up off the couch with a laugh, walking over and clapping Juice on the shoulder as he walked by, “You’re the brains behind this one, bro. You’ll be able to handle it just fine.”

Juice wasn’t in the mood to get in an argument about it, so he let Jax walk away without another word. He knew, though, that despite Tig and Happy being the ones who brought it up, they weren’t going to be doing any of the legwork in getting it all started. That wasn’t their area of expertise. It wasn’t Juice’s either, truth be told, but it looked like it was going to have to be.

They already had the space. The club had bought up a few properties along the way and one of them actually had a decent amount of yard space in the back. They threw a decent fence up and Juice had found a crew of guys to help transform the inside of the building to make it more dog-friendly. The cosmetic stuff was easy enough, but hiring people, figuring out how to run the day-to-day of it all while they were still getting it off the ground, that was going to be the hard part.

“What would the requirements for this even be?” this wasn’t the type of job posting that the club was usually putting out there, and Juice had no idea what to put. He buried his face in his hands, wishing that he could pawn this off onto someone else and be done with it but he was too invested now—he’d put too much work into it. He was halfway tempted to write, “Must be nice to animals” and call it a day just so he could get it over with and try to move on to the next thing.

There was a knock on the glass front door moments before the sound of it sliding over the welcome mat filled the room. Juice lifted his head, confusion flooding over his features as he took in the sight of you. You looked around the room, looking just about as confused as he did, and he couldn’t help but to wonder if you were lost.

“All good?” he asked.

You looked over at him, letting out a nervous laugh, “Yea, uh, hi. Sorry. I just,” you gestured over your shoulder, “I saw the help wanted sign in the window. From the name I thought this place was a doggy daycare. But it looks…well…” you laughed, “empty.”

Juice laughed, getting up from where he was sitting behind the reception desk, “Yea. We, um, we haven’t opened yet. Figured we might need some employees first,” he chuckled as he held his hand out, “I’m Juice, by the way.”

You shook his hand, “Juice?”

“Yea,” there was something about the way your eyes seemed to be searching his that made him nervous, “That’s what my friends…I mean they just, uh, you can call me Juan, if you want.”

You smiled, “Juan?”

“Juan Carlos,” he chuckled, trying not to let his nerves come out to play in a situation where they had no right to be there.

“Nice to meet you, Juan Carlos,” you gave him your name in turn before taking another look around what was currently a large, empty, undecorated space, “So, you said you’re looking for employees?”

“Yea. Are you, um, are you looking for a job?”

You laughed, nodding, “I guess you could say that, yea.”

“Got any experience with this kind of stuff?”

You shrugged, “Yea. I mean, I never ran a business for it or anything. But back home and through college I used to dog-sit and walk people’s dogs as a side-gig. Never had any complaints,” you smiled, “I can whip up some references for you if you want.”

“I know I should ask for them, but I won’t lie to you, I’m kind of in a pinch here,” he took a breath, running his hand back over his head until it rested on the back of his neck, “When can you start?”

“Whenever you get some dogs in here for me to take care of,” you laughed.

He smiled, for some reason feeling a sense of relief washing over him despite the fact that you were just one person, and there was no guarantee that it was all going to work out. For all he knew, you were going to see what a mess he was and how quickly he was pulling together the entire operation and you’d bail. He just had to hope that that wouldn’t be the case. You seemed nice, though, and he just had to hope that that would be enough.

The two of you chatted for a couple minutes. You asked about the plans for the place, what the end-goal was. You could tell by the way that he was talking that he was in over his head, and it made you wonder how he ended up in this position anyway. He was trying, you could tell by all the papers spread out in some sort of organized chaos on the desk. He also had the look of a person who hadn’t gotten enough sleep in a very long time.

You also noticed the kutte he was wearing. Charming was a new place for you, and you didn’t really know all the history and what there was to know about it. But you’d seen enough men around town with the same vest on to know that it must’ve been connected somehow to the building you were standing in, the business that this man was attempting to get off the ground. It should’ve been a deterrent, you should’ve just turned around and walked back out. But you didn’t. Something about his exasperation and confusion made him seem so trustworthy.

“If you don’t mind me saying,” you offered a sympathetic smile, “you seem a little in over your head here.”

He laughed, nodding, “Thanks for putting it nicely.”

You chuckled, “I won’t pretend that I have all the answers, but if you want some help getting this place going, I’ll do what I can. If nothing else, I’m coachable.”

“Yea?” he looked hopeful.

“Yea. And if you give me your budget I can, um,” you looked around the room, “I can get some stuff that’ll make this place look a little more inviting.”

“I’ll take any help I can get. You got any friends who would be interested?” he let out a laugh.

You shook your head, smiling, “If I had any friends here, I’d see what I could do. But it’s just me, unfortunately.”

His lips started to curl into a smile, “Not unfortunate,” he paused, “Look, I know you probably stopped in here on a whim. I’m not gonna try to rope you in for the rest of the day when you probably have other shit to do. But if you wanna come back tomorrow, we can try and get started on this. I’ll fill you in and everything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “Sounds good. I’ll bring coffee,” you chuckled, “Oh, here, let me write down my number for you.”

Juice scrambled to find you a piece of scrap paper to write on, and you somehow managed to keep your laughter inside of you at that. You quickly jotted down your name and number onto the paper, holding your hand out for one last handshake before you left again for the day.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Juan Carlos,” you smiled.

“Yea,” he shook your hand, looking down at the paper he was holding as you started walking back towards the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Over the next couple of days, Juice filled you in on everything that he could. You could tell that he was beyond thankful to have someone else to share the workload with. Considering that he had been flying solo until you came around, he had been doing pretty well. You showed up with your own laptop, a few notebooks, and some other miscellaneous supplies that immediately had Juice assuming that you knew what you were doing. Really, it was just a lot of leftover things from college that you hadn’t gotten around to throwing away yet. Now you were glad you didn’t, since it was all going to come in handy.

“I finished putting together the job listing,” you said as you plopped down in the chair next to his behind the front desk. You opened your laptop, quickly opening the document in question, “I did some trial ones for the main positions that you said you need to fill. If I left anything out, feel free to let me know,” you paused as he looked over what you had written, “Oh, and I’ll need your help going and grabbing some of the supplies from the pet store. Our order finally came in.”

“Finally?”

You shrugged, laughing, “My definition of express shipping is different from theirs, I guess.”

He watched you for a moment, a smile on his face as you looked through your notes on what had to get done in the next couple of days before the interview process started. It was pretty obvious that that was going to be left completely in Juice’s court. You had yet to meet the other men who were apparently part of this entire operation, and you wondered if Juice was doing that on purpose.

“Thank you,” he finally got the words out.

You looked over at him, confused, “Hm?”

“Thanks,” he reiterated as he gestured to the screen, and the paperwork, “for helping with this. I know it’s a fucking mess but having you help has made things a lot easier.”

You shrugged, “No need to thank me—it’s all part of the job, right?”

“Yea, right.”

“But, if I got first pick of the schedule I wouldn’t be too upset about it. You know, if you wanted to say thank you that way,” you flashed him a cheeky smile before getting back to work.

The morning went on and eventually it was time for the two of you to head over and pick up a bulk of the supplies that you needed in order to get the place up and running. Juice had left most of that up to you, asking just to keep it all under a certain price-point. You were able to do that, although you were sure that as time went on you would be able to convince Juice, or whoever else, to swap some stuff out for things that were a little nicer, a little fancier even. You’d just have to play your cards right.

“C’mon,” you fished your keys out of your purse as you both made your way towards the front door, “I’ll drive.”

His eyes widened and he couldn’t stop the laugh that came out of him, “You’ll drive?”

You stopped, scoffing in disbelief, “What, how much do you think you can strap to the back of your Harley, hm? More than we can fit into the bed of my pickup?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but he realized that you had a point. He hadn’t thought to start bringing the van from the clubhouse around, so all he really had was his bike. Sighing, he held his hands up in surrender, “You got a point.”

You laughed, “I know.”

He looked at your truck, “This thing gonna make it there and back?”

You rolled your eyes, “She’s a little beat-up but she runs just fine. Got me here and moved in, right?” the two of you hopped into the truck, and as you were sliding the key into the ignition, you couldn’t help but to say, “If you really wanna drive that bad, by the way, get your own pickup.”

He laughed, “I’ll try to get something that passes inspection.”

After a lot of fumbling around before eventually letting the employees at the store help, the bed and back seat of your truck were successfully packed with everything that you’d ordered. The look of defeat on Juice’s face when he had to resign to asking for help was something you wished that you had caught on film. You just had to hope that the two of you would be alright getting it all out of your truck without accidentally breaking anything in the process.

When you pulled back into the parking lot at the daycare, you immediately noticed that there were a few more motorcycles parked out front. You tried not to be too obvious as you waited for some kind of reaction from Juice. You heard him sigh, saw him give a small shake of his head, but he didn’t say anything about it. You assumed that they were men from the club, but since you hadn’t met any of them yet, you had no idea what you were in for.

“Think they’ll at least help us unload all of this?” you asked with a laugh.

He chuckled, “Maybe if you ask. Do that at your own risk, though.”

Juice never talked about the club, and you never asked, either. It wasn’t a world that you were at all acquainted with, and truthfully, you didn’t feel like you were missing out on much. Once you realized that Juice was involved with an MC, you knew there’d be some crossover, but you weren’t going to try and insert yourself into that side of things more than necessary. If things got messy, you’d have no problem cutting the cord and finding somewhere else to work, different people to associate with. But you liked the potential of everything so far. And, even if you were shoving the feeling as deep down as you possibly could, you had to admit that you liked Juice, too. You knew precious little about the club outside the murmurs and rumors you’d heard, and you knew that you couldn’t believe everything that was said, but if any of it was true, you wondered how someone like Juice had ended up in a club like that.

“I can handle all of this if you need to go and talk to them,” you told him as you shut your door and made your way towards the bed of the truck.

“No, don’t worry about it,” he watched you drop the tailgate, “they can help, or they can wait.”

You didn’t push it farther, instead hopping up into the bed of the truck to start handing stuff down to him to carry in. Neither of you said anything more as you gathered up your first armful of things to bring inside. As you got closer to the door, you saw two men standing by the front desk, one behind it looking over the papers, and one in front of it watching the two of you making your way inside. You could feel the one man’s eyes studying you and you did your best to ignore it.

“Was starting to get nervous, Juicy Pants,” the man who had been watching the two of you walked closer as you both started setting things down, “Haven’t heard from you in a couple days,” he looked over at you, “Surprised you didn’t just up and skip town with your gorgeous friend here.”

You fought to keep your composure, not wanting this man to know that you had any semblance of nervousness in you. Propping the box you were holding against your hip, you didn’t your best to sound confident, “We’ve been busy getting this place ready since no one else seems too eager to help. Something else you need us to do for you?”

A smirk curled the ends of his mouth, “What’s your offer?”

Juice huffed out a sigh, “Tig, don’t.”

He looked over at him, “What? I’m just asking a question.”

By this point, the man behind the desk had given up on looking through the paperwork and had walked over to the three of you. Stopping beside the man in front of him, who you now knew was named Tig, he scanned you over the same way that Tig had. There was something different in his expression, though, in his eyes. You couldn’t put a name to it, though. What you did know, though, was that the President patch stitched into his kutte meant that whatever happened with this job and this building would all be leading back to him in one form or another.

He smiled at you as he started to speak, “Sorry about him, darlin’. We don’t take him out much,” he paused, waiting for you to make another comment, and you wished that you had one, but your mind was blank as you tried to get a grip on the dynamics here. Taking your pause as his cue to continue, he held out his hand, “I’m Jax, by the way.”

You used your free hand to shake his as you introduced yourself in return, “You got a couple minutes to spare, Jax? We got some more stuff to unload.”

Despite the fact that most of Jax’s focus was on you, he was very aware of the way that Juice was watching the two of you interact. Tig wasn’t lying when he said that they hadn’t really heard or seen much from Juice in a couple days, and now Jax knew why. Sure, getting all of this off the ground was keeping him plenty busy, but there was no way that Juice being able to spend all day working one-on-one with you wasn’t affecting how he spent his time.

“Sure,” he gestured towards the door, “You can talk me through some of those business plans while you’re at it. ‘Cause I know that Juice didn’t come up with all of those.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you walked back towards the door, “Juan came up with the framework for all of it, I’ve just been helping fill in the details.”

You missed the exchange of looks between Jax and Juice when you called him Juan, and Juice was beyond thankful for that. He knew that he was going to be getting an earful over that later when you weren’t around.

Jax focused his attention back on you as you hopped into the truck to pass more stuff off, “And what do you know about filling in the details, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I was about eight weeks away from getting my MBA,” you tossed a box to Jax with a little more umph than necessary, “so I think I’m pretty qualified to fill in some blanks.”

He raised his eyebrows, smiling slightly as he nodded, “Alright then.”

“And,” you slid a few things to the edge before hopping down and grabbing them so you could walk back inside, “not for nothing, if you were worried about my credibility, you could’ve been around to help with all of this. Pitch in on the hiring process and all that,” the smile on your face took the venom out of your words but your point still got across fine.

He chuckled, knowing that an argument wasn’t going to be worth it for anything, “Fair,” he set his box down with the others, “Speaking of the hiring process, where are we with all of that?”

“She put together the listings,” Juice jumped into the conversation, “Gonna post them when we’re done with all of this. I’ll get some printed and sent out, too.”

“We get to help with the interviews?” Tig asked with a smirk.

Juice rolled his eyes, “It’s not gonna be like hiring girls for Redwoody.”

Your eyes widened and you choked back a laugh. When the men turned to look at you, you shook your head and tried to keep your laughter under control, “Sorry, sorry. But…Redwoody? First of all, that name,” you chuckled, “But second of all, how’d you guys go from porn to puppies? I don’t…I don’t get that.”

Jax had to laugh, hearing it phrased like that, “Whatever makes good, clean money.”

“And a lot of it,” Tig added on.

You nodded, not able to argue the very basic logic behind it even if the guys didn’t seem too well prepared for the actual business building side of it, “Right.”

Jax looked back and forth between you and Juice, “You two really need the extra help around here right now?”

You glanced over at Juice, knowing that it was really going to be his call at the end of all of this. You were helpful, and Juice took most of your advice at face-value, but you knew that these two guys weren’t going to be the same way. They weren’t the ones who had been working side-by-side with you getting all of this pulled together so quickly. Juice’s gaze fell to the floor as he contemplated his answer. The extra help would’ve been nice, sure, but he didn’t really want to have Jax or Tig, or any of the guys really, breathing down his neck and yours. The two of you working together seemed to be working so well. There had been moments, over the days that you’d been working together, that he almost forgot that this was all technically a club thing, not just something he happened to be doing and bringing you in to help with.

“We should be good once we get this place set up and the interviews done. Then we’ll be good to go,” Juice nodded, still not looking over at you.

“Either of you any good at interior design?” you asked with a laugh, “We gotta get it all set up and decorated.”

Tig spoke up, nudging Jax’s shoulder, “We should send Gem—”

“No,” Jax cut him off with a laugh, “we shouldn’t,” he looked over at you, “I’ll swing by with a couple of the guys tomorrow, help you set up all this. Put Juicey here in charge of the interviews,” he paused, smiling, “Then you can walk me through some of those plans.”

You knew that smile. You’d seen it on countless men, countless times before. It never meant anything good, and that was the last thing that you were interested in right now. Shaking your head, you said, “I’m telling you, you’re better off talking to Juan about all of that. I just work here,” you tucked your hands into your back pockets, “But I won’t say no to you bringing over some help to get the bulk of this setup done.”

Juice had watched your little exchange with Jax with bated breath. He didn’t want to admit that he felt relieved with the way you deflected Jax’s subtle invitation. Judging by the look that Jax cast his way, Juice had to assume that he wasn’t as good at keeping a neutral expression as he’d hoped.

You saw the three men all looking at each other, and you suddenly felt like you should be doing anything but standing there with them. Clearing your throat, you spoke to Juice, although at this point you were basically speaking to all of them, “I’m just gonna grab the last few things out of the truck. If you’re good to get the listings up, I’ll probably just head out for the day…give you guys a chance to go over some things.”

He didn’t want you to go, but he knew that whatever Jax and Tig wanted to talk about, probably wasn’t something that he wanted you hearing. He fumbled a sentence together, “Oh, uh, okay. Um, yea. Sounds…sounds good. I’ll just see you in the morning, then.”

“Yea,” you shot him a smile, “with a moving crew.”

You made quick work of the few items that were left in your truck. The three of them were chatting about minor things when you walked back in to set the last of your haul down. You said a quick goodbye to the three of them and went on your way. The second the door shut behind you, though, both Jax and Tig turned and gave Juice knowing looks. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, desperately trying not to get roped into that conversation with them.

“What did you guys need to talk about, anyway?” he tried to rein them back to the matters at hand.

It was evident on Jax’s face that he now wanted to spend their time razzing Juice over the blossoming crush he had on his new coworker, but he fought the urge. Resigning with a sigh, he allowed the conversation to stay on a more focused, professional track.

You showed up the next morning with a few trays of coffees from the café a few streets over. You didn’t know how many guys were going to be showing up, but you figured that it would be a nice gesture regardless. When you’d pulled into the parking lot, you saw Juice’s bike, which was the only one you think you’d ever recognize. There were two others, although you couldn’t remember if they were the same ones as the day before. There was also a van parked there as well.

You slung your backpack onto your shoulders before grabbing the drink trays and making your way towards the building. The closer you got, the more you could make out the movement inside. There were definitely more people in there than there had been. It was a far cry from it just being you and Juice together in the vast emptiness of the unfurnished building.

“Holy shit,” you said it mostly under your breath as you walked through the door.

You didn’t think that you’d shown up late. It was about the same time as you usually did. Since you guys weren’t technically open for business and there weren’t any dogs to take care of yet, both you and Juice just tried to get there are a relatively decent hour in the morning. Truthfully, you didn’t think that any of the men who were in the MC would be early birds. Apparently, you were wrong.

It looked like an entirely new place. All the stuff that you’d gone and picked up the day before was all set up. Kennels, pens, all manner of toys and mats, all of it was set up. The reception area didn’t look half bad, either. You looked around, trying to weave your way through the men as quickly and quietly as possible. More than anything you just wanted to talk to Juice and find out what happened.

Before you found Juice, Jax found you. He looked different than he had the day before, just a t-shirt on underneath his kutte and a backwards baseball cap on his head. You figured that the outfit was what passed for “casual” wear since he and the crew of guys had presumably been setting things up all morning.

His smile stretched a little wider as you wordlessly offered him a coffee from the tray in your hands. He took it, starting the conversation before taking a sip, “Not too bad, right?”

You chuckled, setting the tray down and letting your backpack fall off your shoulders, “Not bad, no,” you took your own coffee from the tray, “I guess I underestimated you guys a little bit.”

He shook his head, “We’re just trying to make up time.”

“Oh? Was the guilt trip effective yesterday, then?” you chuckled.

His lips curled into a smirk, “Something like that.”

You paused for a moment as you looked around again, “Juice here? I thought I saw his bike out front.”

His expression shifted as he tried to bite back a laugh, “Yea, yea, he’s here,” he nodded towards the door that led to what you assumed they finally turned into an office, “Got an interview going on.”

“Oh,” you nodded a sip of your drink, “Nice,” you paused for a beat, “When the hell did you guys get here?”

“Early,” he took a long sip from the cup in his hand, “Thanks for the coffee.”

You shrugged, offering a polite smile, “Sure.”

“Can I ask you somethin’?” he waited, and when you motioned for him to continue, he did, “What the hell are you doing working in a place like this? Thought you said you had a degree?”

You shook your head, “Not that simple. I, um, I needed a fresh start somewhere. Ended up here,” you looked around, “No buyer’s remorse yet.”

“Yet?” he chuckled.

“I’m still new in town. We’ll see,” you gave him a small smile.

It was surprising, yet not, how quickly you all completed the final stretch once the rest of the club started pitching in a little more. It seemed like in no time they had hired a decent number of staff and wrapped up the last few things so that the business could actually open. And then it did.

The entire vibe changed once things were up and running. You were still Juice’s right hand, and it was interesting to see the way that he stepped up to the plate a bit, but it was just as interesting to see the way that the rest of the club actually let him. You couldn’t say that you knew the members or understood the dynamics super well, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Juice was somewhere near the bottom of the totem pole in the MC. Still, they let him man the ship, and it was all working out well because of that.

You were in your glory. No matter what you thought your life was going to look like a few months prior before you’d stumbled into Charming, it wouldn’t have compared to this. No amount of degrees or internships or whatever used to be in your plans could’ve beaten out the pure happiness and excitement that came from running the doggie daycare with Juice. It was absolute chaos every day. Semi-organized chaos, but still chaos. And you loved every second of it.

You were sitting inside the pen with a couple of the smaller, much younger dogs that now frequented your daycare. They were just a little too young, a little too small, to be let into the larger pen with the bigger dogs. You didn’t mind that one bit, though, taking any free time you got to sit and play with them. You were in the midst of being lovingly clobbered by an army of little paws when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Jax smiled, shaking his head at you, “Hey, darlin’.”

Despite the roll of your eyes, you smiled, knowing that you could spray him with the water bottle a thousand times over and he would still call you by the pet name he seemed so attached to, “What’s up, Teller?”

“Juice around?”

You spent more time with the club members than you used to, especially since they seemed to pop into the building more often to get their own dose of dog-time, but you still never picked up using the nickname they had for the man who had very quickly become one of your favorite people in Charming.

You nodded towards the back door, “Juan’s out back with a couple of the dogs,” you paused, searching Jax’s face, waiting for his expression to falter, “Everything alright?”

He shot you the same slick smile he had weeks before, “Everything’s fine. You worry too much.”

He was right, but could he really blame you? It wasn’t worth the argument, though, “Keep proving me wrong and we won’t have a problem,” you joked, but not really.

“Yes ma’am,” he leaned down, scratching one puppy gently behind the ears before heading off to find Juice.

You watched him as he walked away, wondering what their conversation was going to be about. Before Jax could make it out the door, Juice came bounding back inside, a pair of dogs at his heels. He and Jax both laughed as they tried to maneuver out of the way and not trip over the dogs who were eagerly sniffing at Jax’s sneakers.

“You got a sec, bro?” Jax asked.

“Uh, yea,” things had been going extremely well, but that question still sent a jolt of anxiety through Juice’s system. Gesturing towards the office, the two of them started to make their way. Once Juice shut the office door behind them, he turned back to Jax, trying to look more confident than he felt, “What’s up?”

“Things are running smoothly here, right?”

Juice shrugged, “Uh, yea, I think so. It’s been…it’s been great. Why?”

“You think you still need to be here to manage the day-to-day?”

Juice’s heart dropped into his stomach. He hadn’t thought about the fact that things going well would expedite him being pulled and put onto whatever project the guys decided to get into next. Truthfully, working with you made him completely forget that this wasn’t the endgame for him. You’d become such a fixture in his routine. He also knew, though, that if the club pulled him for something else, you would be able to handle it. The transition wouldn’t be too difficult, especially since the two of you pretty much ran the show together at this point anyway.

Jax could see the thoughts running through Juice’s head. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he shrugged, “If she’s not ready to take over, I get it. I just need—”

“No,” he cut him off, not wanting Jax to think that the hesitation was born out of a lack of faith in you, “That’s…that’s not it. She’s great,” he looked towards the door even though he couldn’t see you through the small window in it, “She’s…fuckin’ perfect for this, honestly. She’s good with the dogs, good with the people,” he gestured vaguely to the paperwork on the desk, “good with the books.”

“Good,” Jax nodded, smirking slightly as he waited for Juice to get to the conflict of it all. He studied Juice’s face for a beat longer, “Why do I feel like there should be a but here?”

Juice let out a deep sigh, “It’s not…her,” running his hands back over his head so that they landed, interlocked on the back of his neck, “I like it here.”

Jax stopped fighting the smirk, letting it take over his expression, “Do you?”

Juice rolled his eyes, “Don’t be like that.”

Jax chuckled, “C’mon, Juan, anyone with a goddamn set of eyes can see why you like it here. You ask her out yet?”

Juice scoffed, like it was the most ridiculous notion in the world, “I’m not gonna ask her out.”

“Why not?”

“Because she works here?”

Jax laughed, “Don’t act like you care about that, bro.”

“If she says no…”

“I don’t think she will.”

“Yea,” Juice shook his head, “because you know her so well.”

“I’m just saying, that the girl who is currently sitting out there letting herself get mauled by puppies, doesn’t seem like someone who is gonna shoot you down. She’s stuck around you this long, right?”

It wasn’t like Jax was the person that Juice would ordinarily seek out for relationship advice. But Juice had to admit, that this was probably the first time in recent history, if ever, that Jax was actually optimistic about a girl Juice was interested in. He wondered if that was a good sign or a terrible one.

“I’ll put a pin in the conversation about pulling you off of this if you ask her out,” Jax offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Juice let out a laugh of disbelief, “You can’t, you can’t do that.”

Jax shrugged, “Sure I can,” he stepped back and pulled the office door open, “Think about it,” he let out a quiet laugh as he exited the office.

Jax made his way back towards the front of the building, back towards the door to leave. You’d extracted yourself from the pile of puppies that you’d previously been buried under and were back behind the reception desk. You still had a small dog cradled in your lap as you typed on the computer, and Jax couldn’t help but to shake his head at the sight.

Looking up, you raised your eyebrows at him, “All good?”

He nodded, “Yea, so stop asking that,” he laughed, pausing for a moment before asking, “Any of my other guys still here?”

You shrugged, “They filter in and out a lot. Your sergeant at arms was here not too long ago, getting his ankles bit by a chihuahua who has no use for him.”

He nodded towards the dog in your lap, “That one?” Jax laughed when you nodded in response, “How’d Happy take that?”

“Not well,” you laughed, “I think he might’ve left.”

Walking up to the desk, he leaned against it so that he was directly in front of you. He waited for you to stop typing and look over at him before he spoke up, “You still liking it here? Planning on sticking around?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yea, I don’t see any reason to leave. Why? You hear rumors?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah, just making sure you still don’t have any buyers remorse.”

You smiled, “I don’t.”

“Good,” Jax rapped his knuckles against the desk as he made his way to leave, “’Cause I don’t know what Juice would do without you here at this point.

It was the end of the night, all the dogs had been picked up by their respective owners, you sent the other employees home a while before. The whole building was quiet, which felt strange these days. It used to be nothing but silence in the beginning when it was just you and Juice, but that felt like such a distant memory now that it was usually filled with the hustle and bustle of dogs and puppies and workers and the men from the MC popping in and out all the time. The comfortable chaos had become home, and when it was quiet now, it almost felt wrong.

You were closing out a last few things from the day, trying to get a head start on the schedule for the following week. You knew that Juice was still there, that he was wrapping things up in the office, but you still jumped a bit when you heard him clear his throat to get your attention.

He let out a nervous laugh, an apologetic smile spreading across his face, “Sorry.”

“No,” you smiled and waved off the apology, “Don’t be. I just get in the zone sometimes, you know?”

“Trust me, I get it.”

Taking a deep breath, you ran your hands down your face before finally admitting that maybe it was time to call it a day. Shutting down the computer, you looked over at Juice, “You alright?”

“Yea,” he nodded, although the look in his eyes was less convincing, “Yea I’m good.”

“You sure?” you hopped out of your chair and grabbed your bag off the floor, “Everything go alright with Jax today?” he nodded but you could sense the hesitation, “What’d you guys talk about?” you knew it wasn’t really your business but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Juice was telling you the truth before he thought better of it, “We were talking about pulling me off this project.”

Your chest tightened more than you thought it would at news like that, “Oh.”

“He’s not,” he quickly amended his statement, “We’re not. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, “Oh, good.”

The two of you walked towards the main doors, “You probably could run this place on your own, though, you know,” Juice said.

“Please don’t make me do that,” you joked as you locked the door once the two of you stepped outside.

“You’re not dying to get rid of me?” the boyish grin on his face made your heart melt.

“Of course not,” you toyed with the keys to your truck, “You’re like, my second favorite thing about working here.”

“Second?” he laughed.

You chuckled, “First is the dogs, obviously. Second is you. But a very close third is watching the rest of your biker buddies flounder and get chased around by everything from chihuahuas to rottweilers. Great entertainment.”

“I wouldn’t be mad if I came in third to that, honestly,” he joked.

There were a few beats of silence as he walked over to your truck with you. You couldn’t help but ask, “You thinking of leaving?”

His eyes grew wide as he shook his head, “No, no, not at all. Jax was the one who mentioned it. I, uh, I told him I didn’t want to leave.”

“Really?”

“Yea,” he nervously tucked his hands into his pockets, “I just, I really like working here. With you.”

The last part he said so quietly that you almost missed it. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you smile, “I like working here with you too,” you paused, chuckling, “I still can’t believe you hired me based off me saying that I used to dog-sit as a parttime gig in college.”

“Really?” he laughed, “I totally believe it.”

“I’m glad you did,” you nodded, leaning back against the side of your truck.

“I love all this,” he nodded towards the building, “what we got going now. But I do, I dunno, I do miss when it was just the two of us all the time,” his face felt like it was on fire and he instantly regretted saying the words.

Your face warmed at the sentiment, “It was fun, huh? Despite the fact that we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing.”

“Speak for yourself,” he laughed, “I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

You smiled, shaking your head. You waited for a moment, watching the tiny shifts in his expression, “What’re you thinking, Juan?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, but it wasn’t convincing.

“Liar,” you laughed.

He smiled but still couldn’t quite look you in the eye, “No, it’s, I just, I don’t wanna say something and make things weird.”

“Well. Now it’s gonna be weird if you don’t say it. So you might as well,” you reached out, resting your hand on his shoulder for a fleeting moment, “What’s up?”

“I really like you,” it was like the brief contact forced the words out of him. His eyes blew wide open as he realized what he said, “I don’t, it’s not like,” he took a breath to try and get his words together, “I know you probably don’t feel the same way, and, and that’s fine. You’re just really funny, and smart, and honestly after watching you with all the dogs here I’m not totally convinced that you’re not secretly a Disney princess,” he laughed nervously, “I just…I think you’re really great.”

You wouldn’t have been able to dial back the grin on your face even if you tried, “I think you’re really great too.”

His expression brightened, “Yea?”

You laughed, nodding, “Yea.”

“You think I could take you out sometime?”

You smiled, “I think I could make that work, move some things around in my work schedule.”

He laughed, “I think I know a guy who can help with that.”

You bit down lightly at your bottom lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “Oh really?”

He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he wasn’t going to be brave enough to do it. His palms were already starting to sweat just from telling you that he liked you. There was no way he was going to be able to survive anything more without driving himself to a heart attack.

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you get home. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he sounded hopeful, like it wasn’t a guarantee that you’d be there.

You laughed, “That’s a pretty safe bet, yea.”

“Cool,” the shy, dorky grin on his face made your heart melt.

He turned to walk away and you shook your head, reaching out for his arm as you spoke, “Juan, wait.”

He turned back, caught between focusing on the heat from your hand as he soaked into his arm, and the look in your eyes as they locked onto his, “Yea, what’s—”

You cut him off, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. He was surprised at first, hesitant, but once he realized that it was really happening, he leaned right into it. He could feel the way your lips curled into a smile as he pulled you in closer, tighter, like it might be the first and last time he got to do that. Your thumb grazed along his cheek and he melted into your touch like it was second-nature.

When you finally pulled away, you were both out of breath, faces warm like you were two teenagers sneaking in a kiss goodbye past curfew. Resting your palm on the leather of his kutte, you said, “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

His smile was bright as his heart pounded inside his chest, “Can’t wait.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

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.

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“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!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reading #harry styles x y/n

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud��, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

#bnha 324 #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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waka-chan-out · 4 years ago

Note

Hi meeeg!! First of all, CONGRATS ON 300! 🎊 I've been following you for quite awhile but this is my first time interacting with u 👉👈 And I was hoping I could participate in your event 💓

1. Ushiwaka

2. “you missed me? how much?”

3. I'm a she/ her, defimitely the sub; i have a daddy kink, breeding kink, a dash of degrading and praising too (recieving end),.. i just like being dominated over 🙉

-🚾

300 Follower Event

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Prompt 17: “You missed me? How much?”

this fic was part of my 300 follower event. check out the rest of the submissions here.

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 1k

content warning: daddy kink, brief grinding, very little foreplay, cowgirl, tired ushi lets you do your thing, light breeding kink, please let him rest

THANK YOU ANON 🥺 this was so sweet and i’m glad you’ve enjoyed my content. please feel free to contact me more often (i’ll set aside the 🚾 emoji for you if you’d like). i love interacting with people on here even though i’m honestly still struggling with how tumblr works lmao. ushiwaka is the love of my life so you have definitely come to the right place.

note: it’s so hard to find decent manga panels of our sweet little timeskip ushi 😭 forgive me he looks so uncomfortable in the banner.

You heard the keys turning in the lock and immediately dashed to the door. Ushijima didn’t even have time to set down his bags before you were throwing your arms around his neck. He buried his face in your hair and you could feel him smiling.

“Hi, love,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied. Your voice was muffled against his shirt. You stood there for a moment, breathing in each other. It was just two weeks, but it felt like forever. Back to back games, bad weather, and two broken buses later, Ushijima was finally home.

“Can I come in?” he asked. You laughed and stepped to the side.

“I’ll help you. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“It was hard sleeping on the bus. I might pass out the second I lay down.” You huffed a laugh as you helped him carry his bags to your bedroom.

“Oh, I hope not,” you said. He squinted at you and you raised your eyebrows in return. “What?”

“Nothing. I enjoy you.”

You tried and failed to fight off your grin. Ushijima zipped off his jacket and slumped facefirst onto the bed.

“Babe! At least change first.”

He groaned into the mattress.

“I can’t. Too tired.”

You laughed and climbed up onto the bed. You pushed at his shoulder and he shifted onto his back.

“I missed you,” you said, swinging a leg over him and taking a seat on his lap.

Ushijima slung his arm behind his head and stared up at you. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were softened in amusement.

“You missed me?” he asked. He laid his other hand on your hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “How much?”

In response, you shifted your hips, grinding against him. His lips twitched into a small smile as he kept his hands in place.

“I want to show you,” you said, moving again. You drew out long, slow motions against him, until you felt him matching your arousal beneath you. “I want you to relax and I can show you.”

His lips curled in a lazy smile.

“You can do whatever you’d like.”

You returned the smile and pushed off everything you were wearing below the waist. He stared at you with an unchanging amused expression as you pulled down the front of his sweats.

“That quick to use me?” he asked as you lined him up with your entrance. “Naughty girl. What would you have done if I hadn’t come home?”

“Waited.” You whimpered as you sunk onto him. “Waited for — fuck — daddy.”

He smiled and squeezed your hip harder as you shifted up and down on top of him.

“So good,” he sighed, eyes flickering shut for a moment as you continued moving. He looked so enamored with you, so tired and a little bored in an inexplicably sexy way.

Being in control was a foreign experience to you with Ushijima, but that didn’t matter. He was still in charge even if you were controlling the pacing, position, everything. The way he looked into your eyes told you he was allowing this, letting you use him to show your love, to demonstrate just how needy you were when he was gone.

You swore as you sunk down lower than you meant to, bracing yourself on his chest for a moment. Ushijima laughed.

“Get too eager? Come here.” He gestured for you to lean against him. You laid down onto his chest and pressed your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he kept kissing you.

He gripped you tighter and began moving his hips, slow but completely overwhelming. You pulled away and buried your face against his neck with a gasp. The position shift hit exactly where you needed him. You just wanted a little more.

“Please,” you managed to say before swearing again.

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, daddy. A little — ah — a little faster.”

He chuckled into your ear and tightened his grip around you. You groaned as he picked up his pace.

“Is that what my pretty girl needed?”

“Yes.” Your voice was muffled and embarrassingly desperate against his t shirt.

“You’re gonna make me come.” Despite himself, his voice was becoming increasingly unsteady as he snapped his hips against you.

“Please, daddy. Inside me.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed and buried his face into your hair.

“I just got home and have to remind you that you’re mine? You really did miss me.”

“So much, daddy. Please.”

“Fine. Be a good girl and kiss me.”

You struggled to sit up against him but managed to connect your lips with his, sloppily sighing into each others mouths as you both neared the edge.

You beat Ushijima to it, whining and leaning your forehead against his as your body locked against him. He followed behind quickly, hands moving to hold your hips steady as he groaned and twitched inside of you.

You panted against each other for a moment, then Ushijima laughed.

“How are we going to move without ruining my clothes?”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked down, realizing he was still in his nice Adler’s sweatpants. You pressed your face into his chest and joined in his laughter.

“Can you get a new pair?”

“No, actually. So why don’t we . . .” He pulled his arms around you again and, without much warning, rolled so you were underneath him. You yelped as you moved before settling against the bed. He planted a kiss on your nose and smiled.

“Can you get cleaned up and let daddy rest?” he asked. You nodded happily and inhaled when he pressed another kiss on your lips. He carefully fell onto the bed and closed his eyes. You turned to stare at him as his big chest fell into a steady rhythm. You smiled.

“Welcome home.”

#meg’s 300 follower event :)#ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #wakatoshi smut #wakatoshi x reader

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jiminrings · 3 years ago

Note

BALLOON ANIMAL ARTIST JK I JUST FEEL LIKE HE WOULD BE REALLY GOOD AT IT AND MAKE YOU A FLOWER THEN ASK YOU ON A DATE

baby i love u and your big sexy brain <3 welcome to waikiki meets hospital playlist dynamic ft. balloon artist!jk

“who’s a good baby? is it you? iS IT YOU????”

you’d be the first one to admit that you had an exhausting horrible night

being a nurse sUCKS the life out of you and as much as it’s fulfilling, you almost always feel the urge to admit yourself to the ER for being extremely fatigued

it’s all worth it!! it should be

after all, paying for a mansion in an exclusive village and sharing it with your friends doeS warrant some elbow grease

seokjin works in wall street and sometimes he comes home crying but it’s okay because you do have an expensive fridge that everyone worked overtime for <3

hoseok’s a veterinary assistant and is your trusty friend who always sends in pictures of the animals that come in to cheer you up while at work

namjoon’s a painter by passion and accountant by profession!! he does only come out with a few pieces at a time but mAN does it rake in the money

jimin’s a flight attendant and does everyone the pleasure of securing either free or discounted tickets, and bringing home unused airline towels to dry off the dishes!!

lastly, taehyung’s someone you can call a former trustfund baby or somewhat :O the last big chunk of money he spent from his fund was the downpayment and security deposit for this mansion!!!

it’s a long story and he’s currently all over the place but he’s finding regular jobs!! his latest gig was working at a high-end ice cream place but he immediately quit once he learned that he needed to put his back into it and not just scoop up ice cream like he did in his dreams :((

most importantly, taehyung has a baby :-)

he’s a dad!! a single one at that

it’s truly a LONG story but the bottomline is that he has nabi, his cutest little dumpling!! and he has all of you, his friends who didn’t hesitate to step up as nabi’s parents in a way too even if he didn’t ask any of you

you all love the chunky monkey so much that you’ve all taken the liberty to call him your baby at times and tae doesn’t even mind!! nabi’s so lucky (he hopes) to have him as a dad and his friends as his cool uncles and aunt

nevertheless, you indeed had a bad night working the night shift and came home to nabi’s birthday party just in time!! :D

he turned two years old at midnight and even if you weren’t physically present at the mansion like the guys were (they requested their leaves two months earlier) because of being understaffed, you were able to see him and tae blow out multiple cakes that each one bought him

seeing him giggle at your arms just by doing the bare minimum makes you full already <3

all your exhaustion is melted away because it’s your favorite toddler’s birthday party!! the party that you all insisted on shelling out for that made tae almost cry bc of how much you all love his son

“jimin i am not sewing your forehead up when you end up falling in the wrong angle,” you roll your eyes at him who’s currently doing backflips in the bouncy house that managed to fit in the mansion

“hoseok can!!” he yells back and backflips twice in a row, much to the actual children’s amusement and your worry

“i will NOT stitch you up! the thread i have is for the pregnant dogs only!!!”

everyone’s entertaining guests left and right, including taehyung who’s the dad of the little man of the hour :D

he keeps pointing at nabi who’s currently in your arms every ten seconds and it’s now your job to make him giggle every single time to wave at the people

“what do you want, monkey? do you want some ice cream? i won’t tell your dad,” you eagerly ask the wide-eyed baby in your arms, pointing at the ice cream cart that namjoon probably ordered

“no thank you!” nabi cutely aND politely declines, his head shaking no and his speech and pronunciation getting clearer day by day

most of the time though he says it like tHANK YEWWWW and you would immediately grin every time because it’s the cutest thing ever

“hmm, look at that!! face painting!! do you want some butterflies?”

you point at yet another station that you guess seokjin arranged, knowing that at some point into this party, he’d all drag you in here to get matching marks or something lol

nabi once again declines, his eyes searching around that makes you do the same on what you could do to entertain him

he has the same habit down like taehyung and loudly gASPS, pointing his finger and almost shrieking in excitement

“bawoo — balloon!!! balloon!!!”

it is now your life purpose to walk as fast as you could to this balloon station with nabi bouncing up and down your arm in excitement

jungkook’s having the time of his life here :D

normally he’s mostly called in the holiday season and occasionally at big birthday parties (the one where like two sides of the family share every baby’s first birthday party lmao) throughout the year!!

but he’s never had a client who requested him for a singular birthday party!! let alone at a hOUSE

ok maybe that was an understatement

he means a mansion

if he’s being quite honest, the mr. park jimin he spoke to on the phone sounded too kind that he just mistakened him for a party planner or something

he immediately said yes because he had no on-site bookings for that day, or even the week perhaps, and expected to stroll into a carnival in the middle of an executive village

aha :D jungkook is wrong :D

jimin met him by the front door wherein a lot of people are already crossing paths such as catering and not to mention the bouncy house you cAN’T miss, and just briefly touched in on the situation

“oh no, i’m not the dad, man — but thanks!! i’m his uncle. nabi’s dad is my friend, taehyung. and me and my friends, including taehyung, all live here. we’re all like family, basically.”

jungkook saw the other stations invited and he expected that his would have less children y’know?? bouncy house, ice cream station, facepainting, hotdog cart aND magic show???? yeah <3

but god is he wrong

the children are in a single-file line for hIM and his balloon artistry!!! the requests range from pretzels to pirate hats to chandeliers with the bulbs as smiley faces!!!

he’s managed to do all of them so far and he’s now made a decent dent on the line of children waiting for him

jungkook is a happy and content balloon artist :D

“EXCUSE ME! BIRTHDAY BOY COMING THROUGH!!”

oh my god what was that

you’re walking at full-speed and holler out, making sure to emphasize birthday boy because nuh-uh you and nabi will nOT line up for his own party <3 thank you very much

the children coo and the older kids coax the other ones to make way for the both of you to the front of the line, immediately plopping to a mini chair in front of the guy

“hiiii!!”

nabi drawls politely and waves his hand, making you do the same

“what a cute little thing,” the guy in front of you coos and it’s his voice that perhaps makes you melt a little, just seeing the top of his hair for now because he’s crouching down to be eye-level with nabi, “what can i do for you, little buddy?”

he toothily grins and straightens his posture, raising his eyes to look at who’s holding nabi in place and-

???????????????????

jungkook literally stops breathing for a second

“h-hi!! what can i do for you today?” jungkook squeaks, his eyes even more wide and curious to look at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life

you’re sure that you were gonna stammer once you open your mouth so you don’t at all, instead focusing on nabi who’s on your lap

“what do you want, monkey?”

“nabi please! i want nABI!!! nabi nabi nabiiiiiiiiii-“

“yes. he wants nabi, please.”

jungkook nods fervently, his hands about to pluck ballons from his kit before he realizes to ask

“does he want his face? or like, his name? what colors do you want, bud?”

he’s not the least bit bothered at the choices in his head because you’re widening your eyes on what could this guy dO with just balloons, knowing to yourself that even pumping one is difficult work already

“oh! he wants nabi,” you clarify and jungkook tilts his head, mouth slightly agape at to what you’re trying to get at, “butterfly, i mean. nabi knows that his name means butterfly and he likes them a lot! don’t you, monkey?”

nabi nods so hard that it almost gives him a headache and jungkook wants to facepalm himself to the grave

“r-right! why didn’t i think of that?? because nabi means.... nabi....... right!! sorry, oh my god. o-oh! i meant oh my gosh. i uhm-...”

he’s a mess and he knows it, letting his hands take over and grab the same theme colors of blue and lavender from his bag to start on his work

kook tries not to lift his head up ever so often because you’d find him out instantly that he’s looking at you

so what he does instead is peer and coo at nabi every few seconds and tHEN look up at you because you also giggle whenever he giggles

he’s probably feeling pressure with the way your eyes are set on him too and what he’s doing that he pOPS a balloon right with his hands

“sorry, sorry! did i spook you?”

jungkook’s worried because he heard a collective gasp from the kids around him but his main priority is the birthday boy AND you

nabi’s shoulders rose and that’s about it

he shakes his head to himself, looking at you who’s carrying a curious gaze on your face that looks amused

“sorry. i-it’s just you’re so pretty and-“

he’s embarrassed himself in front of a pretty girl and her son and-

wait a second

the color just dRAINS from his face and he’s about to quit at the second

“oh my god i am so sorry. y-you must be nabi’s mother. you’re mr. taehyung’s-“

“friend!! i’m y/n, i’m just taehyung’s friend,” you interject quickly because you cannot believe that pretty boy called you pretty, and at the next breath thought you were taehyung’s wife, “and nabi’s my nephew. we’re all just friends who live together!! i have no boyfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

...

....

yeah maybe you embarrassed yourself this time

you may have said too much information to the balloon artist but jungkook’s just staring at you fondly

and nabi’s switching his gaze between the two of you and claps his hands to snap the two of you out of it lmao

kook chuckles to himself and he cannot stop smiling, even when he’s tying the last balloon to nabi’s butterfly

“there you go, cutie. happy birthday!!” he hands nabi the hUGE butterfly he just made but the sheer difference of how big it is makes the toddler even more happy, hugging it to his chest

jungkook watches you pepper kisses on nabi’s cheeks and that launches him into quickly pulling out balloons while your eyes are deviated from him, hands twisting and turning like his wHOLE LIFE depended on it

“my name’s jungkook, by the way,” he calls you when you’re just about to stand up, smiling giddily at you, “thought you should know.”

cute :-)

before you could thank him, he extends his arm and your mind recognizes the familiar shape which makes you smile instantly

jungkook made you a flower balloon <3

“i think i’ll remember you, jungkook.”

you laugh as the only thing you can smell from it is latex, the huge flower staring at you right in the face

jungkook sheepishly blushes, pursing his lips in happiness

“i’m free whenever you’re free — f-for a date, y’know? just so you could remember me more.”

bonus: dilf taehyung has his own drabble!!

bonus bonus: bestie anon brought my attention to these tiktoks below and gAWD i’m so happy <3

first, second

#drabble nights #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario

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velvetcoves · 4 years ago

Text

little things in your relationship with the v3 boys + Byakuya <3

- mod velv

K1-B0 (KIIBO)

★ him tapping on your shoulder when he has a question, something to show you, etc.

★ Kiibo was a bit scared to cuddle you at first, due to his bulky frame, so he always has some sort of sweater or sweatshirt with him at all times in case you need cuddles

★ him refusing to let you consume anything unless he’s checked it over at LEAST twice

★ him always asking you how you’re feeling throughout the day

★ Kiibo making you little bracelets out of thread, and sneakily slipping them on you. by the end of the day you’ve got like 5 on your arm that you have NO idea when or where they got on you

★ ^ because of this, he likes to play with them on your wrist while you sit together and you’re just “wait what-“

KOREKIYO SHINGUJI

★ him running his hand up and down your back just enough to give you shivers every time

★ Kiyo gently pulling you to his side if you wander too far

★ him leaning down next to you just enough to whisper teasing words and sweet nothings into your ear throughout the day, before nuzzling his masked face into your neck and pulling away

★ Kiyo just being so nurturing with you

★ braiding his hair while he just relaxes into you. like you just playing with the gorgeous locks he sports, while his back is flush against your chest as you hum. he can’t get enough of it.

★ Kiyo kind of.. latching onto you in your sleep. good luck on getting out of bed on time hehe

RANTARO AMAMI

★ like i said in my relationship HCs, Rantaro is a bit of a doodler. so be prepared for that

★ him acting a bit like a crow and giving you the objects he finds. they mostly consist of rather small but breathtaking things. like a dried flower, a really pretty rock, etc. and his reasoning is that “it just reminds me of you. it’s because you’re so gorgeous.” the gODAMN FLIRT-

★ him sending you little smiles and smirks throughout the day, along with winks

★ Rantaro humming to you when you both are together, no matter if you’re alone or not.

★ ^ those little humming moments usually turn into him saying the stupidest things in a sing-songy voice. while you’re a giggling mess, he’s biting your ear-lobe gently while just seductively whispering something about cows and you just lose it

★ him booping your nose a LOT

SHUICHI SAIHARA

★ you straight up SNATCHING his hat and parading around in it

★ trying to figure out what tf he just wrote on the piece of paper he gave you like 5 minutes ago because his handwriting is so messy and you’re just “ 👁👄👁”

★ Shuichi constantly linking your pinkies together

★ you two having a couple of inside jokes that are the FUNNIEST things

★ him helping you edit any workload or essays that you need to submit soon

★ ^ along with that, Shuichi helping you write your essay that’s due at 11:59 and it’s currently 11:50. you two POWER through it lemme tell ya

GONTA GOKUHARA

★ Gonta teaching you how to handle certain bugs, as they’re delicate

★ you getting carried by ✨Gonta✨

★ straight up BABYING him if he ever gets a cut. like he’ll be working with some ladybugs and he hasn’t even noticed the decently sized cut on his arm, and you’re just “gONTA YOUR A R M-“ and he’s just “oh! Gonta not notice. oops :)”

★ ^ smh and then you’ll lightly scold him because you want your boyfriend to be careful and his heart is so full of love for you during these moments

★ you needing something from a height only he can reach, and Gonta just hoisting you’re up onto his shoulders so you can grab it

★ Gonta is w a r m. he’s like a full on human heater. so y’all’s cuddle session is otherworldly

RYOMA HOSHI

★ Ryoma silently laughing when you screw things up or start to stutter. he thinks it’s hilarious

★ also like Shuichi, snATCHING HIS HAT

★ ^ good luck keeping it for long though. he knows. he’ll find you

★ him actually opening up about his older tennis stories. your breath catches in your throat when you can hear the passion in his voice, dancing with a tinge of sadness and guilt as he tells you stories you’d never get to experience yourself

★ him being the big spoon. he needs his p r i d e.

★ ^ h o w e v e r. catch him on a bad day and this man is your little spoon through and through.

KOKICHI OUMA

★ Kokichi full on LAUNCHING himself at you if you ever come into his eyesight

★ him squeezing his way into you. like, if your arms are crossed, he scoots his way under your arms so that you’re holding him against your frame. another example is that if you’re sitting down, Kokichi will absolutely plant himself in your lap

★ Kokichi wiggling his way onto your back and falling asleep. you’ll most likely have to carry him in a piggyback ride on these rare days

★ him annoying you to no end just so you could kiss him to shut him up

★ chase scenes. that’s all i’m gonna say

★ him taking things that you’d need in a moment and having you look for them

KAITO MOMOTA

★ Kaito going off about constellations or somethin like that smh we love him here

★ him straight up YOINKING you back into his chest if you ever stand in front of him

★ you playing with his goatee randomly. he finds it adorable, but a bit embarrassing when you do it in front of Maki, he’ll tell you to stop. lmao don’t listen to him keep doing it

★ ^ Maki finds it hilarious

★ doing this thing when you two are reading and you have the book. you’ll straight up slam the book shut right under his chin to screw up the goatee and it’s FUNNY

★ Kaito just bein’ a simp for ya

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

★ him stealing very subtle glances at you from across the room. he likes to observe you, basically. the way you talk and move your hands with so much life, he LOVES it

★ you laughing whenever he scrunches up his face in distaste.

★ you resting your chin on his shoulder when it’s just the two of you. he’ll be searching for a book and you just plop your head right next to him on his shoulder, and he’ll say something like “too dependent on me now, hm?”

★ ^ stupid little rich boy smh i love him

★ while Byakuya isn’t a very cuddly person, but you two find alternatives. like you holding onto the sleeve of his suit thingy and such

★ that changes at night tho lmao like Korekiyo he LATCHES onto you

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1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

Text

💐Fri 4 Dec ‘20 🌍

Cooking competitions were fought, flower shops were opened, petitions were signed, and today was all in all a lovely, gentle sort of day!

Before last night’s Variety show, real!Harry popped back on instagram to tell Kid Harpoon that the producer award he got was “Fake News” and to “Stop the Count”. Look if Harry wants to keep showing more personality on Instagram I WANT TO SEE IT! Then Variety’s show aired, and Niall and Harry were “there”: Niall presented Lewis Capaldi’s “songwriter of the year” award (in response to it, Lewis thanked the other songwriters for “being a worse songwriter than me”), and Harry, of course, was the Hitmaker of the year! He was introduced by a lot of Big Industry People who all decided to say that they were, uh, so proud of him for leaving a boyband and becoming a rock star? Ah, good, that means it’s the “elitist music takes” segment of the hour. When are people gonna realize that shitting on a really successful, record breaking band in order to say nice things about Harry (one of its members!) is not the compliment they think it is. Nick Kroll's longer intro was at least more interesting, sharing some DWD set moments, confirmed that Harry is a ‘manly man’, and jokingly said that he and his wife and Harry have become a throuple (ANOTHER threesome? Really Harry?). Harry then showed up, looking pretty tired (he’s been doing very long hours, guys!) and wearing his dick banana necklace, and said, “Thanks to [my team] and everyone who supported me through it...thanks to the label for leaving me alone..this is...cool. Cool. I’m gonna get back in the studio”. Cool!

Anyways, that discourse was quickly overtaken by the revelation that Harry DID pay his touring crew back in the spring when his tour was postponed: it came from a local Belgian publication in Ghent, where a man named Yves Van Acker has opened a flower shop (yes I DO think that this sounds like the beginning of a fairy tale!). Anyways, Yves has toured with a number of famous bands over the years, Harry being most recent. “The entire crew was suddenly out of work,” Yves said of Love On Tour’s crew, “But Harry Styles did not want to leave us. Each member was therefore paid an amount. A nice gesture, on which I decided to do something positive with this latest income”. A few things about this 1.) it was not just a nice gesture, it’s the Right Thing to DO! He’s paying people for work he hired them to do! 2.) It's wonderful enough to see, in fact, that it really isn't actually necessary to inflate: the employee told us that he received an amount, clearly a decent amount (enough to open a business), but we do not know if he was given his full wages. It sure is amazing though! And 3.) he named bouquets of flowers after Harry songs! He has “Adore You”, “Golden”, “Canyon Moon”, and “Ever Since New York”, but not, shockingly enough, “Sunflower Vol 6” - COME ON! It’s RIGHT THERE! Anyways, I adore Harry and I want everyone to know that - he does always do his best to be kind.

Liam has a new COVER out, and one of my favorite songs: “Waiting on the World to Change” by John Mayer! The cover is for UNICEF Changemaker, and Liam says that he’s “proud to support them in any way I can”. Okay I’m a NERD so I’m about to rant about how this was the PERFECT song for Liam. The first is his RANGE: he gave the song a really gravelly, soulful sound that it deserves, and his falsettos are SO GOOD that he hits the high notes EASILY. The second are the LYRICS of the song! Literally: “It's hard to beat the system when we're standing at a distance” and “and when you trust your television, what you get is what you got; ‘cause when they own the information, they can bend it all they want”. UGH CHILLS! But that was NOT ALL for Liam, who made a guest appearance on Abby Robert’s YouTube channel in a cook off competition! They made roasted potatoes and Yule Logs (weird combo but okay), and chatted about Christmas traditions a bit. Liam said that he actually DOES do quite a bit of cooking on Christmas because he liked to watch the “tea” go down but not be a part of it (Liam do you read this blog? Was that a hint??). Anyways, he also said that he spends every Christmas with his son, because “Christmas is about kids” (Abby Roberts did a HARD eye roll it was very funny), he put out a fire (firefighter!Liam), and he dropped a boiled potato and lots of powdered sugar. Liam won for his potatoes and Abby won for the Yule Log, and *I* got really hungry. “Don’t set your kitchens on fire,” Liam warns cheerily at the end of the video. Yeahhhh, thanks for that! And now for Liam’s short but lovely content: his alarm this morning said, “It’s that Friday feeling” and then he and Roman talked about their holiday plans - Liam with his fam, Roman with his booze and Karaoke (“I’ll be doing strip that down in front of my mum”. Yeah, cuz that’s not weird at all), and they FINALLY released their bedtime story - It’s twenty minutes long and it’s called “Bedtime Bromance” (can’t wait to hear it!). He also posted an Instagram story of himself in a recording studio in Stockholm singing “Last First Kiss”. “Back to Where it All Started,” the caption read. :{)

And now for Niall and Louis, both of whom are taking up some social issues! Sam Fender (who got into a bit of hot water yesterday for, uh, a joke about Louis’ fans and our key smashing tendencies alkdjfladj) called on the UK-based “Tomlinators” (lmao no <3) to sign a petition which requires local governments to have free helplines for the homeless and vulnerable. And, of course, fans got right on that and helped Sam reach his goal! Oh, wait, no, that DIDN’T happen - instead, fans jumped down his throat for, uh, clout chasing?? And they told him that he couldn’t get away with mocking us and expect us to HELP him!! YEAH GUYS! How DARE he try to use his influence to make a difference?? Anyways, Louis was clearly super mad, you could tell by how he liked the tweet, retweeted the petition, and then said, “Very important cause. If you’re a UK resident please sign!”. As of right now, the petition sits at 10,000 out of 100,000 signatures needed, so. Let’s get it done! Niall is also going to do some community work: he will be at Comhairle Na Nog’s meeting ( it’s an Irish child and youth councils in Ireland) on Saturday giving a shout out to the kids who have been working on projects and in their community despite lockdown. Awww, best of luck to both of them in their very worthy causes.

#harry styles #liam payne #louis tomlinson #niall horan #wow #busy day no thots empty head #anyways!#song of the day!#Waiting on the World to Change by John Mayer but make it Liam's cover!!#guys it REALLY was gorgeous!!

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srirachvbi · 4 years ago

Text

quarantined with you ! (part one)

a/n: this is literally just headcanons on how some of the guys would react to being stuck at home during quarantine lmao (MANGA SPOILERS) also some of these are shorter than the others because i am... lazy ! i’ll try to post more headcanons with different characters for this soon but this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so i wanted to post it Warning(s): mentions of sex but they’re brief and not that detailed, cursing

Bokuto Koutarou

Oh my god this literal CHILD would be a pain in the ass in the beginning

The season had been cancelled due to Miss Rona and he was completely heartbroken

He wasn’t even allowed to go to the gym or even the courts to practice !!

You two didn’t live together yet (you two had been looking at apartments but couldn’t find one that suited either of you at the same time, but your apartment was probably big enough to fit the two of you already) but the minute that quarantine was set in place he literally showed up at your door with his belongings

Surprise! you got yourself a roommate now because he can’t stand being by himself in his lonesome apartment

LETS PRETEND HE PROBABLY DOESN’T HAVE A HUGE PENTHOUSE BECAUSE HE’S A RICHASS VOLLEYBALL PLAYER ITS CUTER IF HE’S LIVING WITH YOU

It’s not like you’re complaining though-- he’s literally your big baby

Since he can’t go to the gym or the courts, he’d probably go on a really long morning run

A lot of the time when he wants to run, he’d try to force you to go with him because he wants to spend time with you :(

LMAO sike-- bitch he THOUGHT you’d even think about getting out of bed at SIX IN THE MORNING????

He actually convinced you to go with him once and you refused to go ever again after almost losing a lung

I’m sorry luvs but Bokuto can’t be trusted in the kitchen so you’re either ordering food or cooking for the both of you

He tries his best tho!!

Since you two have the most time in the world tho, you actually try to teach him how to cook (yikes good luck)

There was a mishap where your apartment almost got burned down but after a while he got his shit together

You: I’m gonna kill myself if you burn down my apartment Kou

Him: haha don’t kill yourself youre so sexy <3

You: perish <3

Honestly, he’d try his best to help you out or cheer you up tho!!

Like, he’s kinda dense and doesn’t really know how to do any household chores but if you’re not feeling great, he’d go out of his way to figure out how to cheer you up

If you’re sad about being stuck inside? Just wait lmao you’re gonna get literally TACKLED cause he !! does !! not !! tolerate !! sadness !!

You guys would probably do tik tok dances and trends because you’re bored

He’d throw it back on you ngl

After a while, Bo would probably adapt to quarantine and you definitely showed him how to clean a few things so eventually he started to be helpful!!

Weekly facetimes or zoom calls with the other MSBY Black Jackals players because all of them are pressed about quarantine

Bo would probably go back to his apartment every now and then whenever you needed space to do your work/school work!!

Or he’d bother the shit out of you and complain if you didn’t give him the attention but unimportant

Oh and

y’all would probably get it on like... almost every single night

He just seems like the kind of person to be horny since he’s bored

Your poor bed :(

Baths afterwards were the best part though because !! he’s all warm and bulky

LIKE IMAGINE JUST BEING IN HIS ARMS AJFKLJDF

I’m a Bokuto Simp

n e ways

he’d try to teach you volleyball if you had enough free time (ofc you do) because he gets so bored

If you already know how to play, he’d probably just toss it back and forth because he doesn’t want to hurt his precious s/o with his POWERFUL ass spikes godDAMN

So, yeah Kou would probably be a pain in the ass at first but he’d definitely settle down with the fact that he’s stuck inside with his cuteass s/o

Him: hey did you know that I love you?

You: SIMP-- wait no, don’t cry baby ily2

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Lmao sorry luvs you ain’t gonna see him <3

The MINUTE he found out that there was a virus, this bitch FLED to his apartment

Like, he stocked up on a TON of supplies and dipped

He literally pulled a “went out to buy some milk” and disappeared off the planet

Since you’re his s/o, he wouldn’t completely shut you out but he would NOT let you into his apartment unless you avoided all human contact for 14 days and showed no signs of Miss Rona

Honestly, you wouldn’t see him that much because he just... doesn’t want anyone near him

You: :((( bby

Him: Stay away bitch <3

You two would facetime a lot tho and he’d just nag you about staying healthy because he doesn’t want his s/o to get sick

If you ran out of masks, he’d literally just stick some in a bag outside of his front door and would tell you to pick them up because he will not leave his apartment

He’s the reason that the stores have like... no hand sanitizer

You: don’t be shy !! give some !!

Him: I do not see 👁👄👁

Jk no, he’d put little care packages outside of his apartment for you that are full of cleaning supplies cause he wants you to be healthy

If he has anything delivered to his house, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a hazmat suit and sprayed that bitch down

He’d definitely call you late at night and the two of you would fall asleep on the call !!

He’d begrudgingly answer the MSBY zoom calls

Atsumu: Omi Omi~ I’m surprised you haven’t gotten broken up with yet. if I were y/n i would probably drop your ass <3

Him: I hope you die <3

Okay but once he realizes you’re perfectly healthy, he’ll allow you into his apartment but he forces you to shower before touching him

It’s okay-- you finally get to cuddle your germaphobe bf <3

Okay but he do be kinda horny in quarantine because isn’t everyone so you two seeing each other again was a TRIP

Have fun luvs <3

Kuroo Tetsurou

Don’t be shy Furudate, tell us where Kuroo is in the final arc <3

Since I have no clue what canon Kuroo is doing, let’s just say he just has a regular job idk

Since he’s not deemed to be an essential worker, he’s stuck at home with your stupidass <3

Jk- he’s happy to be able to spend time with you

Definitely spends a lot of his day playing video games with Kenma since Kenma also has a ton of time now (Kenma’s just working from home now and has conference calls every now and then)

I believe that this man would be a decent cook so he’d definitely help or at least convince you to just order some food lmao

You two would spend the first few weeks just watching movies and cuddling or some cute shit idk

Probably horny as fuck so yall would be busy for a bit

You two would have the stupidest conversations in the middle of the day while you two were just staring at the ceiling

You: if cows ruled the world, would they drink human milk?

Him: omg you’re onto something there

Idk you’d probably be roasting the shit out of each other too

Him: did i ever tell you that you look like a rat baby?

You: perish <3

You’d take turns with who would cook dinner and who would clean it up because there needs to be a system or else youre both not eating or not having an apartment that is tolerable to live in

Okay but like... I think that he’d look at those cooking tik toks and would be like “i’m going to make this bitch”

does it work? sometimes. does it taste good? give or take

Like, some of them SLAP but others just... don’t look anything like the end result that the video showed

he’d definitely try to make you work out with him and sometimes it worked

A lot of the time tho, you’d just laugh at him

You: I’ll just watch you here dw luv

Him: I know you wanna look at my arms wackass

He’d definitely spend hours upon hours playing video games with Kenma

Like,,, you wouldn’t see him move for hours but every now and then you’d hear him scream LMAO

Honestly it would be pretty fun to be quarantined with this bitch

idk he’s not gonna burn your house down, not be able to clean shit, and he’d also be a lot of fun to joke around with so I see nothing wrong with this bitch <3

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lunatens · 4 years ago

Text

since we’re alone

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst + fluff

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader

requested by...too many people to count ksjdfbskg

a/n: im so sorry this took so long, i think like 10+ people asked for me to write a sequel (which is kind of a lot considering tmta has like..less than 100 notes lmao) but i really struggled to find the motivation til now ;-; i really hope you guys like the direction i decided to take this!! also yes i did name this series after niall horan songs what about it

*this is a sequel to “too much to ask” so if you haven’t read that, you probably should read it first!*

confusion hits you as the rosy glow of the morning sun lands on your face. why the hell is it so bright? you groan as you pry open your sleepy eyes only to see the sunrise blazing through the large windows of your living room, and the memories of last night’s events come back to you. your head hurts a bit; probably a mixture of the morning light, the alcohol you had last night, and then crying yourself to sleep.

you rub the sleep from your eyes, surprised to see a blanket you don’t remember using falling to the floor as you stretch. you reach for your phone on the coffee table to check the time—too early to be awake, dammit—only to notice a glass of water right there. yeah, that definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep. picking it up, the cool condensation leaves your fingers wet to the touch, and the icy water feels nice on your throat.

your eyes begin to water as more and more of what happened last night comes back you—in particular the words you said to him in your drunken state. a tsunami of guilt washes over you, mixed with lingering waves of anger and hurt. taking another sip of the water, you try to calm down and think about things. maybe it’s best to talk to hyunjin about this and tell him everything that’s on your mind now that you’re sober. yeah, that’ll work.

you groggily stand up from the couch, pulling the blanket over your shoulders like a cape and letting it drag along the floor as you tentatively walk to the bedroom. the door swings open with a quiet creak, and you bite your lip nervously.

“hyunjin?” you call into the darkness, voice loud enough to wake him but gentle enough not to startle him. you’re met with silence, and you frown as your eyes adjust a bit to the darkness only to see an empty bed in front of you, cotton sheets carelessly thrown aside. your heart sinks deep into your chest, the small rays of hope and forgiveness quickly fading. gone to practice again, you’re not even sure if he’ll be back until later and even then he might not return at all, considering what you said to him last night. your heart feels like it’s been torn in two; you were ready to talk things out with hyunjin and work towards a solution, already ready to forgive him, so seeing him leave just like any other day sends daggers through your heart.

“he could’ve at least made the bed,” you grumble to yourself, haphazardly throwing the sheets and pillow back to where they belong. as you do so, you can’t help but wonder if maybe it really is for the best if you just end things with him. sure, there are lots of great moments with hyunjin and you have so many special memories together, not to mention the fact that you’re completely head over heels in love with him, but as high as the highs in your relationship feel, the lows are just as extreme, if not even more so. you check your phone again, the lack of any sort of message from hyunjin helping you make up your mind; when he hopefully comes home tonight, you’ll break things off with him.

you shuffle back out to the living room, now brightly lit by the fully-risen morning sun. flopping down on the couch, you grab the remote so you can look for something mindless to watch; maybe it’ll help take your mind off of the impending doom that ticks ever closer to you, since you’re too antsy to go back to sleep. you’re about to turn the tv on when a loud thump at the door startles you into dropping the remote. you turn to look at the door, peerings over the couch wide-eyed as you hear keys fumbling in the lock before the handle clicks and the door swings open. when hyunjin’s tall frame quietly enters the room, you think your heart must’ve stopped beating for a moment. your emotions are in turmoil as a million questions and thoughts race through your mind; what’s he doing back so early? do i still break up with him? where did he go if not practice and schedules? and what’s in that box??

hyunjin gently places a white box on the nearest surface before putting his jacket and mask away. you don’t think he’s noticed you’re awake yet, as he seems to be trying his best to be silent. you almost giggle at the thought, but then you remember you’re mad at him and you just continue curiously watching his actions. he finally turns to peek over at the couch, expecting to see your still sleeping form, so when his eyes meet yours he’s a bit taken aback.

“oh, um, goodmorning y/n,” he greets, a little bit awkward. you can tell he’s having trouble reading your emotions and he’s trying to tread carefully, so you remain quiet to see what he’s up to. he picks up the box in both hands and walks over to you, placing the box on the table beside your empty water glass and sitting down beside you. you turn to look at him, expression neutral as he furrows his eyebrows and takes your hands in his.

“y/n, i am so, so sorry for what happened yesterday. i-i know that doesn’t cut it, but i can’t even describe to you how sorry i am. i love you so so much, and i really don’t want to lose you. i understand if you don’t feel the same and you’d rather just en-end it, but i want to do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.”

you didn’t even notice you were crying until his thumb is swiping away a tear on your cheek. he leaves his hand up against your face, and you can’t help but lean into his touch.

“you’ve been so supportive of me following my dreams and being an idol, and i’ve been awful at showing you how much you mean to me. so i’m taking today off, i’ve told chan what happened and he said he’ll cover for me, so now i can be here with you. is...is that okay?” hyunjin asks, eyes searching yours to try and read what your tears mean--are you sad? do you hate him forever?

all you can think to do right now is lean forward to capture his lips in a deep kiss. as soon as your lips touch you can feel the relief wash through both yourself and him. he pulls you closer and wraps his arms tight around you as if he’s never letting go. you pull apart with a soft giggle, wiping your tears away and gently smiling.

“i love you too, jinnie. we can make this work, just please-please don’t make promises you can’t keep ever again, ok?” you ask as you squeeze him in a tight hug, breathing in the welcoming scent of his sweater. he kisses your forehead and lightly caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“deal,” he says, and the two of you just lie there in each other’s arms in silence, your arms wrapped tightly around hyunjin’s torso and his fingers tracing circles on your back. you’re overwhelmed with emotions right now, and you hardly know what to think, but you’re relieved to have hyunjin back in your arms. suddenly, you remember you still don’t know where he went this morning.

“what’s in the box?” you ask as you pull away to examine it, reaching out to touch the white cardboard.

“ah, i mean it’s nothing really, i mean it’s a day late anyways and it’s so early i could hardly find anywhere that was open, let alone actually had something decent,” hyunjin rambles as you open the lid to see a small cake inside with “happy birthday y/n! sorry i ruined your birthday” written in purple icing. the sight makes your heart swell with happiness and you can’t hold back the smile in your face.

“you got up this early just to get me a cake?” you ask in excitement; if this is hyunjin’s way of making things up to you, it’s definitely working.

“not just a cake,” he says nervously as he pulls a smaller white box out of his pocket and hands it to you. opening it, you see a delicate silver chain necklace with a tiny locket on it. inside the locket is a super dumb picture of you and hyunjin from back when your first started dating, and the word “stay” is engraved on the back. you blink furiously, trying and failing to rid yourself of the tears filling your eyes.

“i was gonna give this to you yesterday, but i felt like it might not have been the bets time...and i know it’s kind of cheesy, but i wanted you to always have something to remember me by when i’m away. i got one for myself too so you’ll be with me too, i’m gonna try to even sneak it with me on stage so you’ll always be by my side,” he says, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but that just makes the moment even sweeter.

“i love it so much, hyunjin, thank you,” is all you can say in fear you’ll burst into tears if you speak any more words. you lean in to press another kiss to his soft lips, this time lingering so you can savour this moment. hyunjin helps you put the locket around your neck, and you do the same for him, smiling shyly at each other.

“so what do you say we dig into this cake and get the day started?” hyunjin asks.

“but it’s so early to eat cake!” you respond, to which hyunjin shrugs his shoulders.

“who cares, we have the whole day to spend together and we can do whatever the hell we want,” he says with a smile, and you couldn't be happier to have hyunjin in your life.

#skz #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #stray kids drabble #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin oneshot #angst #fluff #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #since we're alone

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capri-ramblings · 4 years ago

Note

Ruggie Bucchi x male reader Angst? (it's ok if you're uncomfortable, you can put neutral reader in here! ^^) Reader confess their feeling to ruggie but ruggie reject reader feelings and say sharp words towards the reader. Time passes and ruggie starts to develop feelings toward the reader and starts to regret what he did. I hope it's not too much to ask for this!

This was too long I have to make a separate post for Part 2 lmao but I hope you love this as much I loved working on it even when angst isn't my best skill 😩💖

[A Hyena's Nip] Part 1

Ruggie always kinda knew you had a thing for him. It was in the glances you stole at him when you thought he couldn't see, in every good morning smile you gave to him each time you passed him in-between classes. You also always seemed so... flustered whenever he came near you, but if he was being honest, it didn't bother him all that much.

He did find it a bit weird though, cause he was a guy and you were a guy and there's like a lot of other guys out there that you could be crushing on and honestly, you looked like the clingy type too. The same type of clingy Ruggie always wanted to avoid in girls.

So,it didn't came as a surprise when you went and confessed to him after club activities, telling him how much you liked him and stuff, but it still kinda took him off guard. Ruggie wasn't actually expecting you to pour out your feelings, well, he was hoping that you weren't going to because if he had to be honest,this situation you put him in was very awkward.

He didn't like guys as much as he didn't like girls and not because he doesn't have those kind of urges but because he finds the whole 'i like you,you like me,let's date!' relationship kinda pointless, and time consuming.

You were a good kid though. Ever since you came and got stuck in this school, you always made an effort to lend a hand to anyone who needed it, and there was that time when Leona almost turned his hand into nothing more than dust particles and you practically threw yourself in front of him to stop that from happening. He was grateful, of all the people present then, he wasn't expecting you to come and save him.

Staring down at you now, with your head lowered as your hands fiddled with the hem of your gym wear, Ruggie felt bad that he was going to reject you flat out and he wasn't going to be nice about it too, cause chances are you'll tell him it's okay and that being friends is just enough and when has that actually worked out well for both parties? No. You weren't going to be okay and being friends after telling someone that big of a secret isn't a good story.

He was doing you a favour. Yeah, you'll be down about it, but there's literally a bunch of guys out there other than him. You'll move on and get over him quick. All Ruggie had to do was give you that first push. Even if you'd scrap your knee from it.

"I really,really like you, Ruggie and I know this sounds weird seeing that we're both guys but—"

"But what?" Ruggie cut you off before you could finish and all the nerves you were trying to not acknowledge immediately came washing over you as you saw Ruggie's expression shifted into annoyance.

"If you know that this is weird, what were you expecting? Some kind of fairytale to happen?"

He sounded so harsh despite his voice barely budging, and the words he threw at you made your skin cold. Was he mad? Did you actually went and made Ruggie mad? You were hesitant at first to use this opportunity of the two of you being alone to cleanup after club activities to confess to him, but was it a bad move?

"I,well,I...um.." You tried to speak but your words seemed too far away now and instinctively you averted Ruggie's gaze.

This was a mess. An absolute nightmare. And as if it couldn't get any worst, Ruggie started laughing. He started laughing and you could feel your existence cave in on you.

"Man,look at you! You actually did think some kind of lovey-dovey scenario was going to play out, didn't you?"

One of the things you always found attractive about Ruggie was his laugh. It never failed to make you feel better about a bad situation. But as the realization dawned on you that the same laugh was being used to condescend you...You wanted to cover your ears and run away. If only you could though, it was hard to move when your knees felt like buckling down.

"Hey,answer me." Ruggie nudged you in the shoulder and you winced. "Did you think I was going to feel the same?"

No. Of course not. You had a feeling this was going to happen, you kept denying it but it was often there lingering in the back of your mind. You only hoped for a mutual feeling from Ruggie.

"I'm sorry." You muttered out,lips quivering and eyes burning from the tears you fought back. Your throat felt dry and your chest hurt. Scratch that, your heart felt like it fucking stopped and you regretted ever thinking Ruggie would like you.

"What? Now, you're apologizing?" Ruggie sounded frustrated and looking at you trembling from the rejection kinda ticked him off somehow. Were you really a boy if something as simple as a crush got you all teary eyed?

"Look, I don't know what you were expecting from this whole confession thing, but the bottom line here is that I don't like you that way, and I probably never would." He placed a casual hand on your shoulder then, giving you a slight shake before he pulled away and turned on his heels, his hands folded behind his neck.

"So,just drop it okay? See ya around,kid."

The sound of Ruggie's voice along with the light steps he left behind felt too distant for you to actually hear, but the weight of it all, the rejection and hurt that swelled inside you then, seemed too real to be just a simple nightmare.

As you stood there, motionlessly staring at the ground, you felt your heart shattered in your chest, the bits and pieces of its shards prickling into your flesh.

***

"Hey,____!" Deuce was waving his hand in front of your face, his brows furrowed when you looked up at him all dazed and distant.

"You weren't even listening were you?"

"...Sorry,Deuce. I was thinking."

"And here I thought thinking would only hurt Deuce that way but I guess you guys do share a brain cell after all,huh?" Ace was smirking when he said this, obviously pleased with the reaction he got from Deuce who all but scowled at him.

Another class had ended today, and still, you weren't sure you even heard anything that went on throughout each lesson. Ever since your confession, your headspace had been slightly off. It's like you couldn't even go to your own thoughts without replaying Ruggie's words.

You planted your head on your table with a dull thud and both Ace and Deuce looked to you worryingly.

"You look kinda sick,dude. What about you just skip classes for today?"

"Ace, skipping classes will only get him into trouble"

"What are you? His mom?"

Deuce frowned but turned to you instead, staring at you as if he was trying to read your defeated form, and though you knew well enough that neither one of them would know the reason behind your dispirited self, the fear of them actually finding out still bothered you.

So when you lifted your head, you forced on a smile even when the simple gesture felt like tearing off parts of your own skin.

"I'm fine guys,stop worrying or you're really gonna start looking like my mom."

"Yikes" Ace grimaced. "Definitely not letting that happen,no offense. I'm sure your mom's pretty decent"

Deuce was touching his face when he shook his head and crossed his arms. He still looked worried and unconvinced, and it was starting to give you a churning feeling in your stomach.

"Still,I think you should get some early rest today. You look too pale and your eyes are super red. Didn't you get any sleep?"

No. No you didn't. You spent most of your nights staring blankly at your ceiling while your chest throbbed against your ribcages. You couldn't sleep because whenever you did you heard Ruggie's laugh mocking you and then you'd see him glowering down at you like you were the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.

You heaved a shaky sigh, trying so desperately to keep up your smile despite your voice cracking slightly when you spoke.

"It's nothing,really."

Deuce still frowned,but he let the subject go and the three of you spent the remaining day in various classes as usual before school day ended, and you were heading back to your dorms.

"You could stay and hang with us for a bit, bet Riddle wouldn't mind if we told him you were coming over?" Deuce sent you a sympathetic smile, as if somehow despite how dense you thought he was he knew something wasn't right with you, and for a minute, you wondered then why you hadn't fell for Deuce instead. Maybe he wouldn't have been so harsh.

"Thank,Deuce, but Grim stayed behind today cause he claimed one of the ghosts punched him too hard while they were playing and I think having too much alone time for him would be bad"

Deuce laughed and nodded his head.

"See ya around then, Mr. Prefect"

"Yeah. See ya."

The walk back to Ramshackle Dorm felt like an eternity, and as you placed one foot in front of the other, each step heavy and reluctant, you were beginning to wonder if you'll ever get there without passing out. It's been like this for almost a month now. You were eating lesser each passing day too, which didn't really help your already lethargic self. But every food you ate tasted stale, every small thing you did made you too tired and nothing really meant much point to you now. It all seemed so dull, so terribly agonizing. And all because you believed in that stupid dream of yours where Ruggie Bucchi would return your feelings.

You let out a self degrading laugh before rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth.

"What a dumbass" You said, speaking to yourself. "He's right you know, did I really think he was gonna sweep me up in his arms and say he liked me too? What a load of bullshit."

You stopped, shoulders slumping as the air you tried breathing in turned cold and hard to swallow.

How pathetic did you looked to him then? You couldn't help but wonder. Did he feel weirded out? Disgusted? Did he went back and told Leona and made it their joke of the day? The thoughts spiralled you back to square one and suddenly your throat burned.

Staggering to the closest bush, you fell to your knees and began to throw up.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst wonderland angst #twst ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie #male reader insert #ruggie x reader

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kiara-carrera · 3 years ago

Note

“I'm a mess” + Leah and JJ!

95: i'm a mess + mayson

thank you for continuously aiding my obsession with them. i'm actually really happy with how this came out omfg. very much not canon compliant to the actual fic and clueless (slightly jealous) babies. also weed, if you're not down with that (the smoking stuff is also probably v poorly written because i've never smoked in my life lmao).

"Is that my shirt?"

Leah nearly fell out of the hammock. She practically jumped out of her skin, one hand grabbing onto the side and the other clutching the joint she'd rolled a few minutes earlier. Her head whipped around to see JJ walking up to the trees outside the Chateau, an amused grin on his face.

"Jesus fuck, J. Don't sneak up on people like that," Leah whined, flipping him off as he came to a stop in front of her. He grabbed the side of the hammock, stopping it from swinging aggressively as she regained her balance.

"My shirt," he repeated, tugging at the sleeve of it.

She glanced down at the Pelican Marina shirt as if she just remembered she was wearing it. She'd randomly grabbed it from his room when she got back to the Chateau with John B, having ditched the party — and technically JJ? — at the boneyard. "Oh yeah, I got beer all over mine."

He raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Long story," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. Specifically, the one with her lit joint, which didn't go unnoticed by JJ.

"And you took my weed, too?" he exclaimed, eyeing the joint in her hand. Even buzzed, JJ had about thirteen issues with the way it was assembled, but rolling was never Leah's strong suit.

"No." She gave him a mischievous grin, shooting a conspiratorial wink. "It's John B's."

JJ chuckled at her expression, gasping with pride as he slapped a hand over his chest. “My little klepto! I've trained you well."

She shrugged. "I spotted him money for the last keg, he owes me. Wanna smoke it with me?"

JJ eyed her poor craftsmanship, but ultimately accepted with a shrug. Leah tried her best to keep still as JJ climbed into the hammock, sitting back against the other end to be across from her. The swayed a bit before he finally settled in, slotting one of his legs between hers.

She held out the joint to him, waving it tauntingly in front of him. JJ chuckled, plucking it from her fingers.

He took a quick hit, cringing when he let the smoke free. "This is shit weed."

"That's because John B bought it."

" ... Fair enough."

They sat in comfortable silent for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth as the very beginnings of a nice mellow feeling started to creep into Leah's veins. She tried her best to blow a smoke ring, but it came out more like a disjointed blob.

JJ snorted. “Weak."

"Dick," she grumbled, kicking her foot into his calf.

He rolled her eyes at the childish action, before posing a question. "Wanna tell me why I had to walk my ass back here tonight?"

Right. They'd ditched him. Whoops?

Okay, look, they had a reason. One of them being an absolutely trashed John B. He rarely got piss drunk but on the occasions that he did, there was a high chance he'd either do something really stupid or fall dead asleep and Leah had preferred to have him fall asleep at home then on the beach for her and the other's to drag him to the van.

Plus, JJ's attention had been firmly elsewhere at the time.

"Yeah, John B got a little too drunk and I was covered in beer and Kie and Pope have to work tomorrow so we decided to call it," she answered, feeling slightly guilty that they'd bailed on him. She gave him a regretful smile. "We were gonna get you, but you seemed ... preoccupied."

From the start of the party, some girl had practically latched herself onto JJ, and as usual, he lapped up all the attention. Leah didn't blame the girl. JJ was probably the hottest guy on the island, but Leah didn't really want to see him making out with some girl right in front of her.

But, uh, not that she cared. Obviously.

She changed the subject, trying not to sound like some bitter little baby. "So we just, uh, left. Pope said he texted you to let you know."

Pope definitely did not text JJ, but the blond wasn't going to fault him for it. No harm, no foul, especially since he most likely drove home with Kie tonight. God knows Pope was ass over elbows for their friend.

JJ nodded slowly a few times, like he was bobbing his head to an invisible beat. He could already tell he wasn't going to get a good high from John B's shit stash, but at least the keg at the boneyard had gotten him buzzed enough.

The keg, which reminded him of something. "Speaking of beer — "

"We weren't speaking of beer."

"Speaking, thinking, same difference," JJ dismissed, giving a nudge to her leg. "Why were you covered in beer again?"

Leah groaned, letting her head toss back in annoyance. "Fucking Kooks, that's why."

JJ frowned. "I mean, sure, but how ... ?"

Leah sighed, taking one last hit before leaning forward to hand him the joint. When she let the smoke go, she said, "Well, there was this guy I was with for most of the night. I don't know if you saw me after we ditched keg duty."

Oh, JJ had noticed. He definitely fucking noticed.

"He looked like a preppy asshole," he commented, trying to seem nonchalant. It was a wonder Leah bought it, because really he just sounded like a petty little bitch. He brought the joint to his lips, asking, "What happened to your no Kook rule?"

"He was a Touron," Leah replied. "A rich-y rich one, but a Touron all the same."

"But I thought you said — "

"Kook comes in later," she told him. She adjusted her position in the hammock, playing with the hem of JJ's shirt. "Although the Touron was actually a preppy asshole, so you're not really wrong. I mean, he seemed nice at first? But he was also ridiculously boring and full of himself. Ended up being a total dick."

"So basically he was a Kook without the Figure Eight address?"

"Pretty much. So anyways, we're talking and he's mostly going on about himself, which, like, fine, whatever, I was just waiting for him to wanna make out with me anyways — " She didn't notice the way JJ's eyes narrowed just a bit. " — And some fucking Kook drunk off his ass knocks into us and his beer spills all over me."

JJ let out a low whistle. "That blows."

"Oh, definitely. So my shirt's fucking drenched, like, I'm a mess, right? And you'd think any halfway decent person would like, I don't know, be good about the situation? Nope, the fucker decided it would be a great time to make a wet t-shirt contest joke about my boobs. Or, according to him, lack thereof."

Leah rolled her eyes as she laughed at the stupidity of it all, leaning over to snatch the joint back, taking another hit off it. She'd been pissed at first, but the look on his face when she dumped her drink on him was enough to ease her mind.

JJ on the other hand didn't seem as amused. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Like I said, total dick."

"You should've come and got me, would've had him on his ass."

The angry look in JJ's eyes was enough to make a soft smile break across Leah's face. That alone seemed to dim some of the irritation in his expression.

"Easy there, killer," she told him, leaning up to pat him on his leg. "I already threw the rest of my drink at him."

JJ conceded with a grumble, a part of him slightly amused at the thought, but he still muttered, "Still could use his ass kicked though."

"He could've, but I also don't need you fighting every guy who so much as looks at me the wrong way," she snorted. "Besides, I think you're forgetting I have a very nice right hook of my own."

The mental image of Leah socking Rafe Cameron in the face was enough to make them both burst out laughing.

It was a few minutes before all the laughter was out of their systems and they were back to a mellow quiet, the sounds of crickets chirping filling the air.

"So why were you even hanging out with him if he was such a boring dick?"

Because you had your tongue down that girl's throat.

She didn't really know how to answer his question without verging on embarrassing, friendship destroying, Pogue rule number one breaking honesty.

"Boredom? I don't know. Just looking for someone to hook up with, I guess," she replied, not really noticing how he bristled at her answer. Instead, she took an opportunity to try her hand at another smoke right, squealing in delight when a wonky, yet undeniably round ring blew from her lips. "Look!"

JJ grinned at the childlike wonder in her eyes, swaying slightly as she made the hammock swing a little with her excited bounces. He shook his head at her, watching her slip back to rest more comfortably in the hammock, her legs nudging his every so often. His gaze was absentmindedly fixed on the sight of his shirt on her when she cut into his thoughts.

"So, uh, how come you're not with ... " Leah trailed off. She didn't know the girl's name nor did she really want to. She was also worried if she kept going, a twinge of jealousy would leak into her words.

She was totally not jealous, though, by the way. Just to make that clear.

"Just wasn't really vibing," JJ said casually.

In all honesty, he'd only really stopped vibing when he saw that stupid fucking tourist all over Leah. The guy had looked like a dick and her story pretty much proved it, but the sight of them had tanked his mood incredibly. So when his own Touron had invited him back to the place she was staying, JJ bailed.

There were only so many times you could hook up with other people while thinking of the same goddamn person, especially when you shouldn't — no, couldn't be thinking about that person.

Because they were your best friend and you were a fucking idiot.

"Oh."

He leaned over, plucking the joint from her fingers. He took a hit, letting the smoke seep out of his mouth after a moment. He tried to play the situation off, grinning at her. "Eh, not a big deal. Besides, why would I want to be there when I can chill with my best friend?"

The words best friend hung in the air between them.

Neither one of them liked the way it sounded.

Neither one of them had the guts to do anything about it.

#asks #angst/fluff prompts #mayson #claryxjackson

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years ago

Text

TITLE: Of Lines PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Reader REQUEST: @all-good-things-have-a-ending requested for a college/university au with Arthur x Reader. WARNINGS: Not really? Some mention of divorce and cheating (in the past). NOTE: This is long again, sorry. lmao Really, this is such a broad idea that it could be a whole thing, so it was hard to figure out where to end this for a sort of one-off thing. Anyway, just some stuff to note. I did shift around the idea of student x professor because it’s got a power dynamic that I’m not a fan of, despite both Arthur and reader being consenting adults in this. So, instead I went with a professor x professor thing with some compromise on that. However, I hope it’s still good. I rewrote parts of this multiple times so I hope it worked out nice in the end. lol This can also be read as gender neutral, there’s not much focus on the reader’s gender.

With it being a familiar university, you figured it would curb some of the anxieties you had about this.

Yet, you felt like a new student.

However, it had been a good couple years since you were a student of anything. This time it would be a role reversal where you weren’t the one sitting in one of the chairs in the lecture hall, hoping the professor had a good vibe about them and that the course material wouldn’t be too brutal. No, you were the one standing in front of that student and many others just like them. Thankfully, you didn’t have to deal with the eight-in-the-morning stares of a way too early history course but the idea had your stomach twisting something bad at points.

You were in charge. You knew the material and you had your lecture notes, just had to...give a little introduction to yourself and the course layout and worry about the content the next day.

The thought pulled a small sigh from your nose, something grounding as another dull ding of the elevator told you that you were arriving at the floor you needed to be on.

Thankfully, the first thing you had was an office hour that could allow you to collect yourself before you started your day of lecturing. You weren’t expecting any students, not on your first day. The university was still pretty small, newly minted and trying to make a name for itself, and you knew the office building was a bit of a mix and match. You knew you would be sharing the office space with someone, as it had been in your previous institution.

Walking down the hall toward the door you were looking for, having chanted the name a couple times coming in order to find it, you were greeted by a somewhat animated student stepping out of the door, talking quickly with someone sitting just inside. Well, there went your hopes of having the space to yourself for a bit. You tuned out the conversation for a moment, glancing up at the names beside the threshold of the door. Only two, your name, seasonal instructor, and an Arthur Morgan, Phd.

The name gave you pause, your eyes narrowing a moment as a small pang of familiarity hit you. Morgan. Morgan…

“Well I’m gonna go over that project in class, so don’t go worryin’ too much about it right now, alright?”

You glanced up at the voice, now much clearer as a man stepped out from the doorway as the student he was talking to slipped by you with a small nod and wave. His face hit you instantly, though you knew he had aged some over the last couple years. Little less lively, looking somewhat tired, despite the somewhat friendly and inquisitive stare he gave you in return.

“You here for the office hour?” he asked, “I got some time right now for a couple minutes, if that works. What course you in?”

“Oh, I’m not in any course,” you replied quickly with a small chuckle--he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t sure if you were relieved or a little disappointed about that.

“I’m actually just looking to get into my office…” you continued, pointing slightly toward the empty desk space behind him.

“Oh,” he replied, the surprise that touched his expression a little amusing, “Ah, right--course you ain’t. I’m sorry, it’s been...a mornin’.”

“Yeah, I can relate,” you said, stepping in after him once he had turned with a somewhat heavy sigh.

You placed your things down on the desk, letting out a small breath through your nose. This was an interesting turn of events. You knew you might run into the professors you had been taught under, coming to teach at the college, now university, that you had got your degree from before moving on. He had aged a bit in appearance from what you remembered of him, but you recognized his voice. Out of all the people you could have been sharing office with, it was that old professor you had wished you could have strangled when you were a student.

Taking a Fine Arts course for the credit had been required for your degree, and taking a fundamentals to traditional drawing had seemed like easy credit. Maybe it would have been, if it hadn’t been Arthur teaching it. He had seemed nice enough--laid back teaching style, admittedly nice to listen to and you had certainly heard enough comments about how he wasn’t hard to look at either. Yet, when that first project rolled around, things changed. Sandwiched between a couple heavily essay focused courses, trying to work on a drawing seemed easy enough that you hadn’t given it much thought, and he had been quick to kick you in the teeth for it. The grade had been bad and his comments seemed...overly nit-picky at the time. His previously laid back attitude had started to come across as arrogant to you soon after, making him your least liked professor that semester.

You had finished his course decently enough after that, making it a semester goal to make the final project to his liking as a sort of metaphorical flipping off. ‘I am listening and did retain your lessons, you ass.’

You had drank after finals to moving on from his course.

“You teach here before?”

The question pulled you from long dead and buried frustrations, your gaze lifting from one of your lesson plans toward where he was leaning back against the chair. You wanted to laugh--if only he knew.

“No, this is my first year here at least. I did teach at another institution in the city for a couple years, but got a better deal here.”

“That explains it,” he said with a small nod, pausing a moment before he extended a hand out toward you, “Arthur Morgan, Fine Arts professor.”

Yeah, you knew.

“History. Seasonal, for now,” you replied after gripping his hand, followed by your name.

There was a touch of something in his expression, a slight narrowing of his eyes. You thought for a moment that it clicked and he remembered you. However, if he did, it wasn’t commented on as you broke the handshake, turning back to his work after a small grin and nod.

A part of you was feeling somewhat grateful for the conversation being dropped.

***

After the first initial weeks, putting names to faces and breaking into the course material, things started to fall into place for you a bit more.

Really, it started to feel more like how it was at your other institution. Though, with it being a smaller university, that meant smaller classes. Your introductory ones were a little fuller with people taking them for the required credit, your higher level ones thinning out a bit. However, that wasn’t a terrible thing, those courses starting to feel a little more relaxed than your others and it put less on your plate in the long run.

Your continued office hours with Arthur were going alright, too. The two of you managed to work around each other, knowing you tried to tune out the conversations he had with his students and Arthur doing the same with the odd one that would come to you for advice. However, from the office hours you remembered having with him, the ones he had these days seemed a little more...forgiving. Granted, you had avoided going to him for anything while you were a student likely on pride alone, but the odd time you had it was an experience that you had wanted over with quickly.

Perhaps he could tell. Still.

Yet, there was the odd time you would be interrupted by his cellphone and the odd grumble about it, Arthur usually hurrying out of the room to answer it. There was the odd time he would shoot you and/or the student you were advising an apologetic smile before slipping out.

You didn’t want to dip into his personal life. He had his good days and bad days.

Though, you really weren’t expecting to walk in on it. The campus had a small coffee shop that it seemed both professors and students frequented, yourself included during the time you had between classes to eat. However, you were surprised to see a familiar figure waiting in line, talking quietly into his phone. You really didn’t want to surprise him or eavesdrop, but with how the line was currently set up, it was kind of hard not to.

However, much as you had your gripes about him from your time as a student, you wanted to respect his privacy. Still, he seemed to be in some heated argument with someone, his tone quick and stiff. You were somewhat familiar with it, though not in this context. Yet, he fell silent as the other person on the line seemed to talk, Arthur bowing his head as he ran a hand across his face.

Though, you found your gaze dropping as he seemed to look around himself as he listened. His gaze landed on you for a moment before he continued on in a more even tone with his conversation, seeming to wrap it up as he hung up with a sigh. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to look as awkward as you felt.

“The food here any good?” he asked, casting you a glance over his shoulder somewhat. You pulled your gaze away from his own to glance toward the menu, twisting your mouth to the side somewhat.

“I think they’re locally made, so I don’t want to say anything bad. Could be worse, I haven’t gotten sick or anything.”

Arthur hummed lightly, somewhat amused but it wasn’t hard to see the tension lingering.

“Well, it’s either this or nothin’ for me today, so guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“The coffee seems to be the popular choice, anyway,” you continued, shrugging before glancing down at your phone to check your email a moment while you waited. A couple automatic reminders, students telling you of sickness, and a few questions you still had to answer.

“You wanna eat with me?” Arthur asked, causing you to glance up with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” you replied with a small shrug. You were colleagues, it wasn’t some taboo thing.

Not that you were thinking of him in any other way. That train of thought pulled a small tightness to your brow, a frown tightening somewhat on your face. You really didn’t want to think too deeply on it, but being back on this campus pulled a lot of interesting acknowledgements forward. Perhaps you had to set aside your judgement you had made of him as a teacher, and...well, there had been a part of you, even back then, that had wanted to impress him. You had told yourself it was some wounded pride, yet you had to wonder why it was that class. It had been something taken just for the credit.

Maybe we should stop carrying on like a child.

You placed your order, picking up the coffee and one of the pre-made sandwiches from the stand before following Arthur toward one of the free tables.

“I...I’m sorry ‘bout the phone calls,” Arthur said after a moment once you had sat down across from him, causing you to raise your eyebrows slightly before shrugging.

“They’re not as disruptive as you think,” you replied around your own shrug, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Universe seems to know when you’re around so you can witness ‘em…” he muttered into his own cup, removing the lid as he tested the heat of the beverage.

You watched him for a moment, knowing you should just leave it at that. Enjoy your food, at least as much as you could, and move on. Yet, you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek, the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup warming the tips of your fingers as you hovered your hand around it.

“...You okay?” you asked, bracing yourself to pull back if you crossed some sort of boundary.

Arthur glanced up at the question, meeting your gaze for a moment before dropping it again and shrugging as he took a sip from his own cup.

“Sure,” he replied, leaning back in the chair somewhat, “Just...some personal issues. It’ll be resolved in a couple weeks, can just...move on from it.”

“It can be hard to leave that stuff at home,” you replied, nodding your head, “Went through the ringer myself in my second year teaching.”

Arthur let out a small sound from the back of his throat, something close to agreement. You started to eat a little in the silence that followed, though the admission that followed had it hard to keep the touch of surprise out of your expression.

“I’m gettin’ a divorce,” he stated, not looking up from where he was studying the surface of the table.

“...I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied after a moment, watching his expression as he shook his head.

“Picked the worst month for it, feels like I’m goin’ through the motions here with all that in the back of my mind. Ain’t so bad when I know I’m not gettin’ a call in a bit, but feels like she’s expectin’ me to drop everythin’ because she’s still tryin’ to move out. I know my schedule isn't makin’ that easy.”

“That’s...messy business,” you replied with a small nod, glancing down. “I, uh...I got cheated on a couple years back in the middle of a semester. Had to try to run a lecture during the same week, fielding the...stupidest questions while holding that in my chest and had to look the bastard in the face at the end of my days trying to split up our stuff. It really feels like you’re going through the motions, but...it’ll feel more natural again after a while. Though, I imagine I went a little hard on undeserving students during that point.”

“Hell I’m probably doin’ it, too,” Arthur returned, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that.”

“Why’s that?”

You glanced back up at him, a small grin pulling at your expression as you raised your eyebrow. “You really don’t recognize me, huh?”

The completely confused expression that tightened his expression almost had you laughing again, Arthur taking a moment to really look at you. Being under his gaze had you almost wanting to squirm and glance away, but you had started this whole thing. Eventually, there was a shift in his expression, his head lifting somewhat before he was leaning back.

“You were in one of my classes,” he stated around a small huff, causing you a nod with a grin bit back.

“A good couple years back, yeah,” you said, “You made it hard to forget, considering I was pretty convinced you made it your mission to rake me over the coals for a fundamentals to drawing course.”

You were expecting some defensive remark, for him to lean into that small voice in the back of your head that told you that you hadn’t really applied yourself in that class until he forced you to. Yet, he just ducked his head slightly, letting out a small huff of a chuckle.

“...I was a bit of a cocky bastard when I was younger,” he replied, “Might’ve been feelin’ a little showed up by some of my students. Y’know, ‘those who can’t do, teach’.”

“Ah, I’m sure that’s not true,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck somewhat, “Though, I’m happy to see you stepped off that a bit over the years.”

“Sure,” he said, meeting your gaze with a small grin pulling at his lips, “Though, I grade fair. Always have.”

“Yeah, well...I might not have been giving much of an effort until you showed me that wasn’t going to work. I thought it would be easy credit.”

“Well, guess we both had somethin’ goin’ on with that.”

“...It was still an introductory course.”

“Alright, alright.”

You both shared a bit of a chuckle after that, the tension somewhat stepping off. You weren’t so foolish to think it wouldn’t exist after, but it felt nice to sidestep some awkwardness about you having to share space with him multiple times a week. You shared some small talk about your classes for a while before separating to finish off your days.

Though, when you returned to your office to collect some things, you found a note sticking to one of your folders that you hadn’t put there. Pulling it off, you were met with unfamiliar handwriting.

I feel like I crossed a line today by telling you all of that. If I did, I’m sorry. Still, I didn’t get the chance or really thought to say so, but thank you for listening. - A. M.

***

This really wasn’t turning out to be your day.

A hell of a day, too. The last day before a reading week and you could tell most of your students had checked out, something you were close to doing so yourself. Teaching a class at seven at night was always a bit brutal, but after knowing your car had sputtered out a final goodbye as you were pulling up to campus that afternoon and that you would have to take the bus home? Well, it sucked.

You let out a tired sigh as the elevator came to a stop on the floor you needed, planning on just picking up a couple things from your office for the break before taking this adventure home. The evening was darker than you had been expecting with the rain that had come over the afternoon, falling steadily now as you noticed through one of the windows in the open doors you passed. Great.

Though, you were surprised to see a light on in your office. You had been under the impression that Arthur’s classes had wrapped up well over a couple hours ago, catching him moving between reading something and checking his computer in the light of the desk lamp. Pausing at the door, you couldn’t help but curse your luck somewhat.

You could admit that things had been pretty well between the two of you after that one lunch, even having a couple more over the months that followed. Perhaps things even started to lean a bit into a solid friendship, though it was hard to deny that small part of you that spoke to some type of attraction toward him. It really was something you kept shoving down as the days went along--he just got divorced, you should just keep things somewhat distant from that. Yet, it was hard not to notice the growing closeness, the shared jokes, the knowing looks and smiles when getting done with dealing with particularly difficult students.

At the moment, however, you really just wanted to pick up your things and wallow in a bad day on a bus ride home.

Yet, it was hard to do so in a particularly silent building, walking over to your desk and rummaging through your folders had him jumping slightly, glancing in your direction before letting out a breath.

“Christ, could’ve knocked or somethin’,” he remarked, causing you to glance his way somewhat sheepishly.

“Sorry, just needed to grab this.”

“You usually workin’ this late?” he asked as you turned around, placing your things down on the desk beside you.

“This semester, yeah. I just got done with my last class,” you replied, shaking your head, “Now it’s just a long bus ride home. Hell of a way to start my break.”

“You takin’ the bus? In this?” he asked, glancing toward the window with the heavy droplets of rain still hitting the pane.

“I don’t have a choice,” you said with a shrug, “My car gave up after driving here, I had to get it towed.”

“Well…” he started around a sigh, glancing back toward his things before checking the time on his laptop. You caught onto the next part of his statement, your hands raising somewhat at your sides.

“It’s not really a big deal, you don’t need to offer…”

“You guessin’ my words before they leave my mouth?” he returned around a small huff, glancing back toward you, “Where in the city do you live?”

“Just a little outside it, about fifteen minutes from here,” you replied, “By car, at least.”

“That ain’t too bad,” he replied, “I can drive you--if you’ll let me.”

“...Well, I’m not exactly excited to be taking the bus at night and standing in the rain,” you remarked around a soft chuckle, “I...wouldn’t mind that, I guess. I’ll have to return the favor someday, if I can.”

“Eh, sure. It’s fine. Just give me a couple minutes here.”

You nodded, feeling a touch of relief at not having to take the long way home, yet there was now a twist of anxiety about taking this car ride with him. Things had been pretty friendly and professionally distant for some time, the odd line stepped over every now and again but nothing extreme. Now this?

It’s a sweet gesture, you thought as you flipped open one of the essays you had to grade over the week break, there’s probably nothing more to it.

Still, you found yourself accepting it in the long run anyway, following him down toward the car park a couple minutes later. A bit of a beat up old truck, actually, though it still looked modern enough--which you should have expected from him. Much as he was spending his day teaching artistic young adults, he still had a way about him that made him stick out a bit. You knew you hadn’t been expecting the southern drawl when you had him as a professor those years ago.

“Air conditionin’ sucks, but the heater’s good at least,” he remarked as you climbed into the passenger seat once he had unlocked the door for you, “Though, considerin’ the night, that’s probably for the best.”

“Good winter car, at least,” you remarked, doing up your seat belt as he fiddled with the air and radio a moment. You could pick up on the familiar voice of the local talk radio host, something your own father listened to quite a bit.

Interesting choice, you thought while trying to hold back a chuckle.

Arthur started up the truck, finally pulling out from campus as you gave him your address. Really, it was hard not to feel a little awkward to be sitting in his car like this, much as you were grateful for the offer. You tried not to give into the urge to dig around, a nervous habit--always had to do something with your hands. Instead, you let the lull in conversation fall off somewhat as you listened to the rumble of the engine, the faint voice of the radio host, and the rain against the roof and windows. Still, you couldn’t really help yourself--

“You really are a lot more modern cowboy than I had been expecting,” you commented, earning a quick laugh, something genuine.

“Yeah, goes a little deeper than the accent. Just the way I grew up.”

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked, glancing toward him. You were aware it was a bit of a bold question, but you had been feeling a little more comfortable about that lately. With him, at least. It was something you could overthink later (or kick yourself over later if he brushed it off.)

“What, the city?”

“Sure, teaching.”

“I can draw,” he said around a small chuckle, “Had a friend get my foot in somewhere, allowed me to get into college and it took off from there.”

You nodded, taking that in. You knew he really wasn’t all that older than yourself. You had started college as a mature student after giving up on the idea for a while, going back after you found yourself considering it again.

“I wish I had a more interesting story, but mine lines up pretty well with that,” you replied around a soft chuckle, “Minus the foot in the door, but I had a couple people push the idea after drifting around a bit after high school.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty common,” he remarked.

“Thanks for doing this, by the way,” you said after a beat, “You could have left it at a ‘that’s too bad’ and let me sort it out, and I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“Eh, it’s nothin’,” he said, glancing toward you for a moment, letting out a small sigh through his nose as he looked back out at the road. “Don’t have anythin’ waitin’ on me back home, anyway.”

You hummed, nodding your head lightly as he seemed to let the conversation fall again at that. You noticed the tightening of his hands on the wheel for a moment after. The written words of that little note sat in your mind a moment--more about crossing lines. Really, you found yourself wanting to ask how he was doing with all of that. You had noticed the phone calls had become less, Arthur’s energy picking up a little but it was hard to tell sometimes if he really was doing alright. Still, if he wasn’t going to expand on that, you weren’t going to push it.

Really, the weight of the day seemed to press down on you a bit, making it hard to keep up with heavy conversation anyway. You watched the scenery roll by, familiar at this point. Eventually, you could pick up on the landmarks that suggested that your neighborhood was coming up. You directed him around the turns until the familiar building came into view, Arthur pulling up into the driveway.

“Well, this is it,” you said around a somewhat tired sigh, “Thank you, again.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he returned.

You paused a moment, knowing you should just open the door and get out. However, his little offhand comment seemed to sit in your mind for a moment, making you bite the inside of your cheek. You knew you were going to leave it be, yet--

“You, um...are you going to be okay?” you asked, meeting the somewhat confused look he had been settling you.

“Oh--yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he returned quickly, waving a hand. “Not even sure why I said that, just slipped out. I’ve been...gettin’ used to it again, you don’t need to worry.”

“Well...in the vein of saying things we maybe shouldn’t say, I do find myself wondering about how you’re doing anyway,” you replied, “But alright. I’ll see you after the break.”

You opened the door at that, stepping out into the cold spray of water before shutting the door. You knew your last words were bold, but you had found yourself saying them anyway. Perhaps a part of you wanted him to know that someone did care. However, you didn’t get to linger too much on that thought as Arthur’s voice cut across from the driver’s side of his truck.

You paused as he lowered his window, stepping back toward him as he leaned against it somewhat.

“I...you’re free to forget I even asked, but you doin’ anythin’ for the break?”

You blinked against the slight sting of rain in your eyes for a moment before shaking your head with a shrug, feeling the wetness starting to soak into the neck of your shirt and jacket.

“You want to...I don’t know, get coffee? Have a meal?”

“...Is this as friends? Colleagues?”

“Well...I wasn't quite thinkin’ of it that way,” he remarked, almost lost to the sound of the rain around you. You could feel your heart thud, a shiver ripping through you from the cold as you felt the rain soaking the top of your head but you could feel some heat touch your face.

“Alright, sure. Why not?”

The relieved grin that touched his face was almost enough to make your night. You knew there was a part of you that would question this, already feeling that pulling at the back of your mind as you put your cellphone number into his phone. He just went through a divorce, you didn’t want to deal with this if he was just looking to use you to sort through all of that.

However--well, it was just a meal. You could figure that out from how that goes. It wasn’t enough to quell your excitement, at least.

You would have laughed at the idea all those years ago that you would be willingly going on a date with professor Morgan, bane of your existence, but the thought left a smile on your face for the night anyway.

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

the one with food poisoning

summary: jj cooks dinner for charlie on their anniversary. it doesn’t end well

warnings: mentions of food poisoning and side effects

wordcount: 1.3k

She might not have remembered it, but it was JJ and Charlie’s six-month anniversary, and JJ was determined to make it special. He knew she didn’t care about that kind of trivial thing, but he did, and it was a good excuse to cook her dinner anyways. He let himself into her house like usual, greeting Grace in the living room. “Hey, Evans. Alright if I use the kitchen?”

Grace shrugged, getting up and following him in. “Sure. What are you up to?”

He grinned, holding up a grocery bag. “Charlie’s at work late today because of football practice, so I wanted to surprise her with dinner.”

Grace hopped up onto one of the barstools, ready to watch the spectacle unfold. “What’s the occasion?”

JJ started by washing his hands, then laying out the ingredients on the counter. “It’s our six month anniversary.”

“You’re cheesy as hell, Maybank.” She replied, but smiled. She liked JJ and the way he treated Charlie - but she treated him like a brother, teasing him at any opportunity. He shrugged. “Maybe a little. Um...where’s your cutting board?”

She pointed, then immediately texted Charlie.

Grace: your golden retriever is in our kitchen

Charlie: I told you to quit calling him that

Grace: but it’s so damn true

Charlie: you’re right, but still

Charlie: why’s he in the kitchen

Grace: happy six month anniversary

Charlie: shit, is that today?

Grace: lmao I don’t think there’s a gift on him if that helps

Charlie: make sure he doesn’t burn down the house

Grace: I got you

She put her phone away, watching with an amused expression as he fumbled his way through the recipe, glancing back and forth at a printed-out recipe every few minutes. “Whatcha making?”

JJ lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, then hesitated, realizing he had just touched the chicken. “Chicken alfredo. I got the recipe from the Beta chef, it’s pretty good.”

“Have you ever cooked anything in your life, JJ?” She grinned as he rolled his eyes. “I’ve made, like, spaghetti and shit. It’s not hard, you just follow the directions.” Grace laughed. “Yeah, and you’re such a rule follower.”

JJ laughed as well, shaking his head. “Different situation.”

She grew bored fairly quickly and got out a textbook to do some readings, but stayed in the kitchen, occasionally directing JJ to find the measuring cups or the salt. A while later, she gave up on studying too and stood, pausing before she left. “You good on your own, Maybank?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Grace.” He gave her a grateful smile. She nodded. “Any time.” Grace then walked out of the house, on her way to visit a friend, and ran into Charlie in the driveway.

“The house is still standing.” Charlie joked, gathering her things to go inside. Grace laughed. “It actually smells decent, I’m impressed. See you later.” She left and Charlie walked inside, dropping her backpack by the front door.

“What’s all this?” She asked as she walked into the kitchen, feigning surprise. JJ grinned and turned at the sound of her voice, wiping his hands on a towel before enveloping her in a tight hug. “I made us dinner! Um, not sure if you remember, but this is technically our six month anniversary.”

Charlie lied through her teeth, thanks to Grace’s heads up. “I did remember! Thank you, J, this is sweet.” She reached up on her toes, giving him a quick kiss. He beamed. “Okay, wash your hands and we can eat, it’s just now ready.”

He served them both, making a show of pulling out her chair before she sat. “I feel empty-handed, I didn’t get you anything.” She said, biting her lip. He shook his head with a grin. “S’okay. You can make it up to me tonight.” She laughed. “Yeah? That’ll do?” He nodded and nudged her plate toward her. “That’ll do. Go on, try it.”

Charlie nodded, bringing a loaded fork to her lips. The chicken seemed extra...chewy, and the sauce was admittedly questionable, but she just chalked that up to some strange ingredient he probably threw in. “It’s good!” She lied again, washing it down with a long sip of wine that he had also bought.

JJ puffed up his chest proudly, taking his first bite. His expression slowly switched from excitement to confusion, taking an extra long time to chew. “You’re sure it’s good?” Charlie nodded quickly, trying to reassure him. “It’s good, J, promise.” She took an extra large bite for good measure - regretting it immediately, but she hid her distaste well.

After ten minutes of both of them making terrible conversation, making a small dent in their meals, JJ pushed his plate away. “This is bad, Charlie.” She laughed, setting her fork down. “It’s not...terrible?” He shook his head, clearly disappointed. “No, it’s bad. Really bad. Do you feel okay?” She shifted in her seat, deciding whether or not to keep up the charade. “I don’t feel great.” She admitted, and he frowned. “I can tell, you look pale.”

He tried, and that was what was important. That’s what Charlie reminded herself two hours later as they were both curled up on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, foreheads sweaty after taking turns emptying the contents of their stomachs into the toilet. “J, I -” she started, but JJ shook his head quickly, clutching his stomach. “No, please, I can’t take the lecture right now.”

She laughed softly. “I was gonna ask you to pass me a couple washcloths, from the cabinet behind you.”

“Oh.” He groaned as he sat up slowly, then handed her two washcloths. She leaned behind her, running them under the cold water from the tub, then wrung them out. “C’mere.” She motioned and JJ scooted over, resting his head in her lap. Charlie ran the towel gently over his face before resting it on his forehead, doing the same for herself as she leaned her head back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, I thought I did it right.” He let out a small whine as she began to comb her fingers through his sweaty hair. “Clearly you didn’t.” She replied, too tired to really grill him. “I got the chicken around two, then I - oh, shit.” He whispered, realizing his mistake. “What did you do, Maybank?” She questioned.

“I mean, it doesn’t really matter now, right?” He tried, wincing as she tugged on the end of his hair. “J. What’d you do.”

“So...I might not have put the chicken in the fridge in between the store and cooking it for you.”

“Oh my god.” Charlie groaned, shoving him off her lap. “Hey, I -” his protest went quiet and he quickly gathered her hair back as she leaned toward the toilet, throwing up again. After she finished, she slumped back down, leaning into his side.

“I’m really sorry, Char.” He mumbled, placing the washcloth back on her forehead. “Next time you try to cook, I need to be there.” She replied flatly. JJ cautiously put his arm around her shoulders, only for her to immediately nudge it away. “Don’t touch me right now.”

He nodded. “Roger that.” At her glare, he sighed, resorting to rubbing her back soothingly. “Why did you eat so much? I think you had more than me.”

“I was trying to make you feel better! You put effort into this, and I didn’t even remember.”

He laughed. “You said you remembered!”

She groaned, caught in her lie. “I didn’t, Grace texted me and gave me a heads up. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was important to you.”

“S’not, really. I just wanted to surprise you.” He admitted. “I just didn’t think I’d surprise you like this.”

Charlie laughed at that, lifting her head to grin at him. “I appreciate the gesture, JJ, but let’s just go out to eat next time.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead - slightly regretting it as he tasted the salt from her sweat. “You like me enough to stick around for another anniversary?”

She giggled. “Yeah, J, I like you just enough.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank obx #jj maybank fanfiction #jj outer banks #jj x charlie #mine #college jj #frat jj

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jamesedwinstark · 4 years ago

Text

Okay, as promised I am posting the James noncon. There'll be 2 posts.

I wanna be SUPER CLEAR that this is NOT CANON. This is just a horrible "what if" scenario that I needed to vomit onto a page.

The concept here is that Justin Hammer is holding James hostage. He infected a number of his employees with nanites that will kill them if James doesn't do everything Hammer says. James also has nanites in him which monitor his behavior and make it so he can't call for help.

The first thing Hammer wants to do with James is... go on a date. This is the date.

I’ll pick you up around 8. Wear something slinky ;)

That was the text James had received a few hours earlier. After days of waiting, of trying to pretend nothing was wrong, it was finally happening. James didn’t know if he was glad to get it over with, or if he wanted a few more days of relative normalcy. In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d do as he was told.

It was best to get ready like it was a normal date. James picked out an outfit he thought counted as ‘slinky’: a long-sleeved shirt with cut outs in the back and on the shoulders, cropped so it showed barely an inch of midriff, pants which clung to his butt and drew attention where it was needed, and boots with just a little heel, accentuating his legs. He was supposed to be a trophy, not a whore. Right?

Clothes at the ready, James sat down at his vanity. He made up his face on autopilot, not doing anything special; it wasn’t as though this was Valeria or Loki, people whose preferences he knew intimately, who loved him, who he really wanted to please. He wished either of them were here.

While digging through his lipsticks, James pulled out a tacky, pink glitter gloss. He considered wearing it. It suggested youth, naivety, innocence. It said, “set me free; I’m just a kid.” That doesn’t matter. It only matters whose kid you are.

Well, the pink was worth a shot. James never knew what little thing might give him an advantage. He picked out some earrings inlaid with pink gemstones to match.

As he applied the gloss, his phone buzzed. He waved a hand and a screen popped up in front of him. He’d been mentioned in one of his groupchats, specifically the one for former Young Avengers, which he’d been invited to join in an honorary capacity, having spent a decent chunk of his childhood as something of a team mascot. He tapped the notification.

TEDDY: Hey! @James, some of us are heading to a bar, wanna come???

KATE: Jimmmminmy!

ELI: Wr already got satarted

TEDDY: Kate already got started

TEDDY: Yeh, lmao ^^

TOMMY: Jimmy ger Dow. Here and I’ll find u and unstable girl

BILLY: Guys, he doesn’t like being called Jimmy. Plz use his full name

BILLY: Jimbo come hang out with us

A tickle in the back of his head told him that the nanites in his brain were on high alert.

JAMES: As much as I love watching you get trashed and butcher my name, I can’t tonight

KATE: Booo u whoree!

DAVID: Plx help me jim I’m not drunk enough for this

James sighed. The point was for people to know about it, so he may as well say something now.

JAMES: I actually can’t. I have a date :)

The smiley face felt a little forced, but that was probably just projection. Nobody would question it. He was supposed to be excited. It was supposed to be believable.

BILLY: Oh

BILLY: Ok

BILLY: Have fun :)

TOMMY: Lmao seriously tho do ew even wana kno who is it THIS TIME

James clenched his fist in front of his face, and the screen disappeared back into his phone. Even his own friends thought he was an idiot when it came to love. Because you are. You deserve this.

There was almost an hour where James was dressed and ready to go, just pacing around his apartment, waiting. As the minutes stretched on, the nervousness twisting up his insides heightened. It’s no big deal. It’s just a date. Not even, it was a con, just for show. All he was doing was working a mark, playing a role. He was good at that. This would be fine.

He checked his phone when it buzzed again at 8:34.

Car’s waiting. Hurry that cute little ass down here

James took a deep breath, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. While taking the elevator down, James replied.

On my way

There was a white limo parked outside James’ building. James knew it was where he was expected to go, because it radiated a nervous, vicious excitement that made him dizzy. As he approached, the driver stepped out and held the door for him. He had nothing but contempt for James.

“Thank you.” James told him sweetly, flashing him a demure little smile. The driver’s contempt was eaten away slightly by another, even less comforting feeling: pity. He wondered how much, if anything, the driver actually knew about what was going on.

Justin Hammer was waiting for him inside, and if he’d been any happier he would have been bouncing in his seat. The inside of the car smelled a little too strongly of Hammer’s cologne. James sat down across from him and Hammer looked him up and down appraisingly. He was… disappointed. Oh no.

“Is that what you decided to wear?” He asked.

James looked down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I mean, would it kill you to show some more skin?” Hammer whined. “I thought you kids wore skirts now.”

A skirt suggested something. Easy access. Hammer wanted people- James’ Dad most of all- to see James’ bare thighs and know who was getting between them. It seemed that he had been wrong; he was supposed to be a whore.

“I’m… sorry.” James said. “I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

Hammer sighed. “I think I’d better take a more hands-on approach to your outfit choices from now on.”

“If that’s what you want.” James acquiesced.

“When we get to the restaurant, there are going to be paparazzi.” Hammer explained, barely acknowledging that James had spoken. “I may or may not have tipped somebody off. You're gonna put on a good show for them, alright? I wanna see a big smile on that pretty face. Really sell how infatuated you are with me.”

James huffed. “I know how to play my role, Hammer. This is what I do.”

“Come on, sweetheart. We're in love.” Hammer said, unpleasantly pleased with himself. “You can call me Justin.”

“I was planning on doing that in public.”

“Well, I want you to do it all the time.”

That was all that needed to be said on the matter.

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and Hammer stepped out first. He held the door for James, making sure that the paparazzi who had indeed turned up saw him doing so. James played his part, put on a cutesy smile and batted his eyelashes as he got out of the car and wrapped himself around Hammer’s arm. As soon as he did, he felt Hammer get frustrated, and saw him glance down at James’ shoes. James was already an inch or two taller, and the slight heel made that little bit of difference all the more noticeable. He’d already messed up again. This might be a little more difficult than he thought.

The handful of paparazzi that had gathered and were being ushered away, unhurriedly, by the restaurant staff, barked questions at James, which he ignored. Their camera drones buzzed perilously close to get good shots of the absolute travesty of a date they were witnessing. James could practically hear the nasty headlines they were concocting in their heads about him and his wonderfully tabloid-worthy habit of getting into bed with the ‘wrong’ sort.

They were at the door when James got the sense of someone else trying to get his attention, but not in a mean way. He heard a child ask, “Is that really him?”

James turned on his heel to see a woman with a little girl, maybe five or six, looking at him. They both got very excited when they realized he’d noticed them. Abandoning his annoyed date, James jogged over to the pair.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Mr. Stark, but we heard you were going to be here and…” The woman began sheepishly, “You’re her favorite.” The little girl buried her face in the woman’s pant leg.

James laughed, sincerely this time. “I always have time for a young lady with such impeccable taste.” He said, before getting down on the little girl’s level. “I’m James, what’s your name?”

The little girl looked up questioningly at the woman- presumably her mother- before replying “Sarah.”

The paparazzi took some interest in what he was doing, but they weren’t as thrilled about it. Local Superhero Nice to Child wasn’t as attention-grabbing a headline as Cap and Iron Man’s Son Does Something Awful, Again.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sarah. Did you know Sarah was my grandmothers name?”

The little girl shook her head.

Hammer was getting exponentially more annoyed by the second, but he couldn’t exactly drag James away from a little kid in front of all these people. Not without looking like the second coming of Ebenezer Scrooge anyway. Still, James didn’t want to push his luck, he had to wrap this up quickly.

“Are you really the Golden Avenger?” Sarah asked.

James snapped his fingers, and a shower of yellow sparks spilled from his hand. “I sure am.”

Joy erupted in Sarah’s chest like fireworks. “We’re the same!” She squeaked.

“She has epilepsy.” Her mother explained. James nodded.

Seeing that Sarah’s ears were pierced, he took the pair of star-shaped pink sapphire studs out of his ears and pressed them into her hand.

“That’s for you. Wash them before you wear them; it’s not sanitary otherwise.” James said. “Now, Sarah, this is important. I believe in you, I want you to believe in yourself, and always, always listen to your parents. Do we have an understanding?”

Sarah nodded.

James hurried back to where he had left Hammer waiting, feeling the impatience directed his way. As soon as he was close enough, Hammer grabbed him, clamping a hand firmly on James’ butt (which the paparazzi adored) and dragging him inside.

“I know that wholesome image is how you sell lunchboxes and all,” Hammer hissed in his ear, smiling as he did so, “but don’t keep me waiting, ever again. You got that?”

A thousand explanations and protests died on James’ tongue. While talking to the kid, he had briefly forgotten that someone else owned him. Briefly.

“I got it. I’m sorry.”

Once they were inside, James shed his coat. Seeing his exposed back made Hammer a little happier with James’ outfit. It was almost… uncomfortable how much happier seeing that skin made him. James brushed it off as just more of Hammer’s weird overenthusiasm.

“Is this more what you were thinking in regard to the skin thing?” James asked. He kept his tone light. “Specifically mine and showing more of it.”

“It’s definitely better.” Hammer agreed.

This was good. If they could get along while fake-dating, eventually Hammer would have to start seeing him as a human being. He would like James, if only James provided the camaraderie Hammer had always craved from James’ Dad, camaraderie which had always been denied to him. Then he’d let James go.

The maitre d’ seated them by a window, which meant more pictures of them together, and more acting for James. While they were across from one another, Hammer fixated on James’ eyes. He didn’t seem to be able to stop looking at them. You didn’t have to be a super-genius to figure out why. You just had to look very, very similar to one.

Nobody brought them menus.

“I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time.” Hammer boasted. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, don’t you worry.”

Again, James got a weird reading from Hammer. Something in the back of his head was trying to warn him about something. Danger, James Stark! Danger! Danger! Well, of course he was in danger, somebody else had his life in their hands. It’s more than that, don’t be stupid.

The waiter brought out their meals. James’ was not something he recognized as food, but he’d never been much for fancy cuisine. He’d survived this long mostly on chicken nuggets and takeout. Still, he picked at his dinner, not wanting to seem like he was ungrateful or that he disapproved of Hammer’s choice. He remembered what his Pop had told him about growing up in the Depression, and all the garbage they’d choked down trying to survive. I was 25 before I realized sawdust wasn’t actually an ingredient. If Pop could do that, James could work through something that had been meticulously crafted by a trained chef. Don’t be spoiled. You’re an Avenger, not a princess.

“Do you prefer red or white wine?” Hammer asked. “I know the sommelier personally. She’ll get us some of the good stuff.”

“I can’t drink.” James said, and when that led Hammer to get irritated, he explained, “Because of my condition.” It still wasn’t good enough. “But, I suppose one glass won’t kill me.”

The sommelier who poured their drinks was nauseatingly gracious to Hammer, but James could tell that she didn’t actually like him. Just has the driver had done, she regarded him (internally, of course) with contempt. James started feeling a little bad for Hammer; everyone around him was so fake.

Hammer raised his glass. “To us.”

Oh my gosh he can’t be serious. James raised his glass in answer, smiling through the pain of secondhand embarrassment. Having never really had more than a few sips of alcohol at any one time, James was unused to the taste of wine. It was nasty. He powered through it. People actually drank this stuff for fun? All it did was remind him that, right now, his friends were getting sloppy wasted on any number of unpleasant-tasting concoctions. He was supposed to be there, not here.

“Babe, has anyone ever told you you don’t talk much?” Hammer asked.

“I can honestly say nobody has ever said that to me in the history of my life, no.” James replied.

“It’s something you should work on.” Hammer continued as if James hadn’t spoken at all. “And smile more. Jeez, kid, you’re bumming me out, you know?”

James grinned. “Right, cameras are still on us and all.”

“And you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He wants it to be real. Give him what he wants. “Yeah, of course.” He wants it to be real. Why did that sit so uneasily?

“This isn’t the sort of place I’d take just anyone.” Hammer gestured around at what was, admittedly, a very classy place. “This is the five-star treatment. It’s just for people I really want to undress.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“It’s for people I really want to impress.” Hammer leaned in. “You’re a very special kid. I’ve been waiting a long time to get my hands on you.”

Hammer was feeling at him very, very intensely. It was like being in a sauna, having him so close and emitting the thrill of power he was getting from all this. Power and… something else.

James laughed, clear and seemingly unforced. “I guess you’ve got me.”

“I guess I do, don’t I?” Hammer leaned back and just reveled in it for a moment. What he was feeling made James little ill. James took a drink of water. It was getting oppressively hot. Hammer was getting oppressively hot… for… James.

He was aroused. This, holding James hostage, hurting his Dad, was making Hammer horny, and he had James right here… he could do anything he wanted. He wants it to be real. How real? How real was he going to make it?

Hammer started talking at James, telling him about some impressive thing he almost certainly hadn’t actually done. James only half listened, his mind was occupied, trying to peel back the layers of Hammer’s intention like he’d been taught to do. Find and identify all the tiny little things Hammer was feeling at a given moment. His attraction was superficial, the real source of his arousal was the sense of ownership he had, of victory. It led to feelings of excitement, anticipation, expectation… certainty. He was certain.

"Excuse me, Justin." James tittered during a break in the ‘conversation’. His smile felt like it would crack his face. "I need to go powder my nose."

Hammer took a sip from his wineglass. "Ok, you can go. Don't take too long, though." Again, that sickening rush washed over him. "I want to get out of here soon."

James hurried away from the table. Soon. His vision blurred the second he stood up, so he navigated his way towards the bathroom mostly through magic. Once there, he clung to the nearest sink for support. Trying to combat the intense nausea that had overtaken him, he splashed cold water on the back of his neck. It was no use. Throwing himself into the nearest stall, James retched violently and puked up what little he had eaten. Cold, clammy sweat started to bead on his lip and the back of his neck.

He's going to rape you. It was not a matter of if. He was going to do it, certainly.

James really was stupid to think it would be anything but this. Why would Hammer be content with just letting everyone think he and James were lovers, when he could make it a reality? This would be the ultimate victory over Tony Stark: raping his baby.

James needed his Daddy. He needed to be rescued, to be held in strong, safe arms like he was a child again. He needed what was about to happen not to happen.

It was going to happen anyway.

Too much time had passed. James got up off the bathroom floor and brushed off his knees. He went to the sink and swished water around in his mouth, getting the acrid taste of vomit mostly cleaned away. This is going to happen to you, and you're going to let it. You'll be fine. You're a survivor. Stark men are made of iron.

He touched up his makeup, dried off a little and, as ready as he'd ever be, headed back to his table.

"There he is! I was starting to think you'd fallen asleep in there." Hammer remarked as James returned to his seat. Hammer was expectant. What was he expecting? Was that supposed to be a joke? It was. James giggled. His mouth was so dry. He sipped at his water. Even that made his stomach turn a little.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right..." Hammer continued his anecdote in between bites. James smiled and nodded sweetly, his own dinner rendered inedible. He kept trying to get water down, but nothing seemed to help the thick sticky feeling on his tongue and down his throat.

His left hand was clenched in a fist under the table. I could burn a hole right through you just by staring. I could cook your brain in your skull with my fingertip. I could... golly, I really could beat you bloody with my bare hands.

"You're not eating?"

James fluttered his eyelashes. "I guess I'm not very hungry." He explained.

"So you don't want dessert?"

"No thank you."

Hammer's excitement hit James like a freight train, but it wasn't normal excitement. It was all twisted and wrong. He reached out and grabbed James' hand, running his thumb over James' knuckles in a gesture that, from the outside, might appear tender.

"That's ok. You and I are going to have a different kind of dessert. Doesn't that sound good?"

James swallowed thickly, eyes trained pointedly at the middle distance. His smile faltered just a little, and when he spoke, his voice was small, barely audible.

"Yes." He nodded weakly. "Yes."

How exactly they got from the restaurant back to the car, James wasn't sure. He seemed to drift, only barely aware of his coat being wrapped around his shoulders, paparazzi snapping his photo as he stepped outside, the car door being held open for him while he was ushered in like a curious child into an unmarked white van. Smile. You're having a great time. Hammer clutched him every step of the way, as though James were a fish caught in his talons which might slip back into the ocean and swim home before he could devour it.

In the car, Hammer sat next to him, practically right on top of him. James’ stepford smile dissolved the second they were alone together, but Hammer didn’t seem to have noticed. His hand was on James’ knee, inching up his thigh, as he whispered in James’ ear.

“I booked us a room uptown.” He was close enough that James could feel Hammer’s breath on his neck. “I thought we’d do something a little special for our first time.”

“Justin, nobody can see us.” James knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he had to try something. If he made it seem like he didn’t understand, he could say no without actually saying ‘no.’

Hammer’s joy evaporated, replaced with white-hot rage. He gave a short little laugh. “Now, baby, I took you on this nice date and all. I’ve been a real gentleman, and I just think it’s fair,” He squeezed James’ leg painfully hard, “that you put out. Nobody likes a tease.”

“...Ok.”

The anger didn't subside, and James was terrified of what might happen if he let Hammer stay too mad for too long. He plastered a smile back on his face.

“I can't wait.” Was his voice shaking? Had it cracked? “I can’t wait to make love to you.”

His heart was racing. He'd said it, and now he couldn't unsay it. He couldn't stop hearing his own words echoing in his head. Make love. This was the furthest thing from love he could imagine.

The hand on James’ thigh slid up to paw at his groin, and Hammer leaned in to kiss him on the neck. He sucked at the skin there (stop it) like he was trying to leave a mark (don't), and, honestly, he probably was (get off of me). James wanted nothing more than to blast a hole in the car and rocket into the night sky. He reached out, laid a gentle hand on the back of Hammer’s neck and pulled him ever so slightly closer.

“Yeah, good, Tony.” Hammer moaned against his neck. “Just like that.”

James clenched his eyes shut. It didn't seem like Hammer even noticed he'd said anything wrong.

When he was satisfied that he'd left an adequately visible hickey, Hammer licked a wet stripe up to James’ mouth and forced his tongue inside. Fighting the urge to spit the flicking, invasive appendage out of his mouth, James hummed as though turned on. Hammer leaned in, making James take a deeper mouthful of that fleshy, wet thing.

This is just his tongue. How are you going to deal with his…

They were at the hotel before James knew it. Hammer paraded him through the lobby, hand firmly attached to his buttcheek. By some miracle, James managed to continue playing his role, leaning into his ‘date’ and giggling whenever Hammer whispered some horrible, obscene thing in James’ ear. It was all he could do to keep from shaking.

When they got up to the room, Hammer slid James’ coat off for him. It seemed like a normal enough gesture, something a real boyfriend would do, something his real boyfriend had done before, but all James could think was that he was already being undressed. He was being stripped down to nothing.

The suite itself was unnecessarily opulent. Everything sparkled. There were two rooms connected by an archway, the first being home to a sitting area populated by fashionable, uncomfortable-looking furniture, an equally painful-looking dining area, and an oppressively shiny kitchenette with a wet bar. The bar was where Hammer headed, brushing his fingertips along James’ exposed back as he did so.

“I'm going to make myself a drink, do you want anything?” He asked as he got out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

“I'm ok.” If James could get drunk, he would have used any means possible to numb himself. “I have to go get ready.”

Without looking up from his drink, Hammer waved him off. James went into the other room, the bedroom, making a point not to look at the bed. The bathroom attached to the bedroom, and he retreated into it.

Halfway through peeling off his clothes, James felt the urge to vomit again. He knelt in front of the toilet and heaved for a while, but nothing came up. He was too empty. Hollow.

The fancy shower was sufficient for James to get himself clean. Ordinarily, he did this ahead of time in his own shower, because he knew what was coming. He hadn't been properly warned this time, or maybe it had been obvious all along and James had let himself remain in denial. Whatever the case, he didn't want to incur Hammer’s wrath now by not giving him what he expected. He wants the girlfriend experience. James found himself laughing out loud, bitter, strangled noises coming out of his throat. He doubled over and puked into the shower drain.

Would Hammer get mad if James took too long? He reached out his mind and found the man still vibrating with his strange, unpleasant happiness, only a little impatient. Biting his tongue, James reached down and forced himself to work past his revulsion and finger his hole open. It would be easier if he was prepped. It would hurt less. James wondered if Hammer had even brought lube.

After stalling for as long as he could by washing everything several times over, he finally left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Putting his clothes back on would only get him in trouble. The first thing he saw as he stepped out was the bed. It hit him then. Really hit him. This was actually going to happen. It was going to happen in a few minutes. He folded in on himself, crumpling to the floor. He knew he shouldn’t, that he needed to keep smiling, pretend he wanted it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Desperately, helplessly, James started to cry.

Sensing Hammer approaching, James scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his eyes, but it was too late. When he walked in the room, Hammer spotted James’ red, tear-streaked face. Again, burning rage emanated from him, tinged with a sense of betrayal. There wasn’t an ounce of guilt or pity inside him. He strode over and cupped James face in his hands a little roughly.

“It’s ok to be nervous.” He said. His voice masked his anger only thinly.

James stared at the ground and nodded, swallowing back more tears. Hammer took hold of one of James’ wrists and guided his hand down to feel his erection through his pants. It wasn't as small as James had hoped. I could castrate him right now. Burn him. He couldn't really, though.

“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s for you.” Hammer cooed. “That’s going to be inside you, and you’re going to love it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

“O-ok, yeah. I want-” James’ voice cracked, and he lost it. He was sobbing again, stammering, “Please, Justin, you don’t have to do this. There's a better way to... I can help you. I understand-”

“Stop crying!” For the first time all night, Hammer actually showed how angry he was, just below the surface. James bit his lip to keep any more sobs from slipping through. Hammer continued, “You don’t get to say no to me. Shut up, and go lie down on the bed.”

James whimpered. “Please…”

“Lie down on the bed. Now.”

There was, in fact, lube. As expected, there was minimal prepping. Then, it was inside him.

James tried to go somewhere else while it was happening. He was overwhelmed by the oppressive smell of too much cologne, the words being moaned at him (“Oh, yeah, Tony, fuck, Tony!”), the taste of scotch in the kisses that kept being applied to his mouth, as though this were something sweet and passionate, as though it wasn’t what it was. Most of all James was overwhelmed by the nauseating self-satisfaction that smothered him, threatening to choke the life out of him.

There was a glass chandelier above the bed. It swayed gently and cast diamond shapes on the hotel ceiling. James counted them out: one, two, three, one-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three-e-and-a around and around the chandelier in a pattern that just wouldn’t stop.

It did stop, eventually. Hammer cried out and spilled into him. James’ mind instantly supplied the image of that fetid, mystery liquid which collected in the bottoms of trash bags and gushed out if the bag was accidentally punctured. Sated and victorious, Hammer gave a few final thrusts (Just stop. Please just stop) and his pleasure walloped James right in the chest. James came, despite himself, sticky and disgusting all over his abdomen.

“Holy shit. I made you come on just my cock.”

Bile rose in James’ throat. He swallowed it down.

“Smile, baby.” Hammer sighed, “I know that was good for you. See, I told you you’d love it.”

When James didn’t respond, Hammer started to get angry. James sensed the heat rising up in his chest. Don’t be stupid. Keep him happy.

“Yeah, of course I did.” James answered brightly. It was easy to slip into being someone else. He couldn’t stand the thought of himself right now. “You’re really… really good. I’m just a little… stunned. Because I enjoyed it so much.” He found himself giggling airily, like some lovestruck floozy. Where was that coming from?

Hammer rolled off of him and lay on the bed, sighing happily. He was floating on a wave of orgasmic bliss and the satisfaction of sweet revenge, in his mind long overdue. Of course he was happy now, but once his head cleared and he could see what he had done, surely remorse would start to set in. Surely.

“That’s good. I’m thinking maybe next time you’ll show a little more enthusiasm.” Hammer said. It was an order. “I wanna see how much you like it.”

Next time… next time. “Ok, I can do that.” James agreed. “I’ll do whatever you want.” Next time. It was all James could think about. The next time this happened to him.

“Good boy.” Hammer reached over and gently stroked the back of his knuckles down James’ cheek. There was no gentleness behind the gesture, however. All James could feel was glee. Sadistic, victorious glee. Hammer was congratulating himself for this.

Surely, surely he would feel bad about it in the morning.

The smugness and delight radiating off of Hammer’s body finally became too much. It felt like James was absorbing something toxic, being so near him. He sat up in bed like a reanimated corpse, restless and agitated.

“I need to get some-” No. Try again. “Can I go out and get some air? Please?”

“Sure babe.” Hammer acquiesced. “Just don’t fly away.” He said it with a smile, but it was a threat. Everything was a threat. Everything was dangerous.

James slid out of bed feeling, perhaps for the first time in his life, ashamed of how naked he was. His clothes were on the bathroom floor. It was like a different person had taken them off. It hurt to stand, to walk. It just hurt.

“Uh, excuse you?” Hammer said, stopping James in his tracks.

What now? What more could he possibly want now? James turned to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at him.

“Yes, Honey?”

“I’m letting you do something you want. What do you say to that?” His tone was condescending, like he was scolding a child. No, more like he was training a dog.

“Thank you.”

Seemingly satisfied, Hammer laid back down. James wasted no time in scurrying to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. It felt good to finally be alone. A tear fell down his cheek, but he fought the urge to cry in earnest. He didn’t think he could stop if he started.

It’s fine. These things happen. This time it happened to you. James kept it together as he wiped the… as he wiped off his stomach and the insides of his thighs. Then he gathered his clothes off the floor and, hands shaking, covered himself up again. He was safer now; there was a barrier, however thin, between his skin and Justin Hammer’s hands. It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay. It didn’t seem fine. He could still feel it inside him. He felt where he’d been pried open and then invaded…

You’re ok you’re ok youreokyureokyourokuro

The bathroom floor was still wet. Had so little time really passed since he’d showered? He needed to get up, but he couldn’t force his body to move. It was something like being trapped in a frozen lake, and how you couldn’t swim to the surface because of the shock, so you just drowned. He had hoped that he’d feel better after it was over, but it wasn’t really over, was it? It was never going to be over.

A long time passed before he could stand up and walk out of the bathroom. When he did, he found Hammer already asleep. Good. He didn’t think he could fake his way through any more niceties.

He pictured himself taking a pillow off the bed and pressing it down on Hammer’s face. James was much stronger; he could hold Hammer down with his magic and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He would just choke (painfully) and die (terrified) and James would get that indescribably terrible feeling he got whenever a soul was extinguished in front of him. He shuddered just thinking about it. No, he wasn’t capable of that, and even if he was, he knew that if Hammer died, everyone infected with his nanites would die too, including James.

James’ coat was hanging in the next room, and he pulled it on and headed for the balcony. The added layer provided him with a little more safety, but didn’t do nearly enough to block the cold wind outside from attacking his damp clothes.

For a while, he just stared at the street below. The people walking down the sidewalk or riding in their cars were too far away for him to read, so he could just imagine that they were all happy and carefree. The couples striding hand-in-hand were all deeply in love, the children were totally safe with parents who had no enemies and never made mistakes, the commuters were on their way home, or maybe to a friend’s house. Nobody had to do anything they didn’t want to do.

James pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It was an almost Pavlovian response at this point, smoking after sex. It was normal, felt normal.

That wasn’t sex, his brain supplied that was not sex.

No, but you did have an orgasm.

The balcony was decorated with plastic plants in tacky stone pots, and James hunched over the nearest one and dry heaved until he finally vomited, the effort of it wracking his whole body. It’s not my fault I came. It’s not my fault. I’m not just letting this happen. I don’t have any choice.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Ok. He got all the evil out of him, and it was ok now. He looked down at the now-ruined fake plant and thought, guiltily, of whatever underpaid hotel employee would have to clean it up.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled at nobody as he stood unsteadily.

Leaning against the edge of the balcony, he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit the end with the tip of his finger. The first inhale settled his nerves immeasurably. Things were bad, yes, but James knew he could find a way out of this. He was smarter than Hammer, all he needed was a plan-

“Prohibited substance detected.” A voice rang in his head.

What?

“Prohibited substance detected.” The voice said again. “Desist or you will be punished.”

“I don’t know what that means.” James snapped at the AI.

“Prohibited substance detected. Desist or you will be punished.”

“What substance?” James hadn’t eaten anything at dinner that he hadn’t been specifically instructed to, hadn’t had anything to drink that he hadn’t been given. What arbitrary rule could he possibly be breaking? Unless… James glanced down at the cigarette he’d been idly puffing on. No. No no no no no…

“Standby for punishment.”

“Wait, wait!” James cried out, but it was too late. Every nerve in his body lit up with intense pain. For a moment, his vision blacked out and he struggled to remain standing.

“Desist or you will be punished again.” The voice instructed as the pain ebbed.

Gazing sadly at the mostly-unsmoked cigarette still in his hand, James incinerated it between his fingers. It was just a cigarette; he didn’t need it, but gee whiz he wanted it. It was the one thing he’d had to look forward to, however small and unimportant it was in the grand scheme of things. Even that had been taken from him. He had nothing. He really, truly had nothing.

Tears started to fall, softly at first. Soon, however, his shoulders were shaking with sobs and he was gasping for air between them. It was loud, ugly crying, but that didn’t matter. Nobody could hear him, anyway.

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