#but once that bit was done GOD the accent work is incredible

[saessenach]

Although its beginning was a bit shaky, Joanna Glen's All My Mothers got me out of this reading slump and I am fascinated with so many aspects of it

[thenightshadowqueen]

Death for a Dollar watchthrough thoughts

Holy shit, this was unhinged. I loved it so much. (That’s too many italics, but I don’t care.) I’m kind of speechless; the number of times I actually covered my mouth in shock (usually because of Sam, but Tom was insane in this one, too) was staggering. I adore this play.

Anyway, I’m going to get into my actual thoughts instead of just rambling.

Just to start, ‘Death for a Dollar’ is a great title, so kudos to whoever came up with that

Oh my god, Hank and Gareth 2.0!!!!

“You don’t know what he did for this place.” “That—Tell me!” This is off to a strong start

“Where was your showmanship?” I love it when they work mini games of Change into the plays

Mr. Twilliger is an incredible name

“This is me being the bartender, getting the stories out of the customers, so they reveal things, and then they want to drink more because they’re reliving their trauma.” I mean, it’s a valid tactic to get more money; yay, capitalism! (sarcasm)

AJ forcing Tom to be musical… Caesar and Juliet, anyone?

I love that Luke knows off the top of his head how many keys a piano has (I’m honestly not surprised)

Is Sam’s hair a little longer than normal? Because it looks really good

“I got three keys, three teeth, three toes. I’ve been through a lot.” I love Tony the piano player (who was also referred to as Bill once)

“My mind can take an awful lot; there’s not a lot in there” I love him, actually

“You ain’t trying to seduce him!” “But I get bigger tips when I do!” Sam

Can I just thank whoever edited this for giving us that little shot of Tom laughing? Because I love it when we get to see him actually laugh.

I love Mrs. Prostitute (and I love Tom for including positive representation of sex work)

“This is what feminism looks like” West End Big Boys flashbacks

“My mum is crazy” SAM

Also I think my favourite thing about the microphones is that we can hear them laughing so much more clearly (brought to you by Luke, on this occasion)

I adore Sam’s weird little harmonica thing he does in western-genre pieces

Ooh, younger versions of characters being played by different actors; I don’t think we’ve seen that before

I love Sam being confused and Tom’s response being to start clapping

I love Sam being annoyed and retaliating at AJ with a bald joke

“I told my daddy that I was real fast with a pistol, and that maybe I could go and work in law enforcement, but he wouldn’t have it.” “No! No son is going to go work for the government!” AJ trying to paint his father as the villain and Sam trying his very best to make the audience like him… This is gorgeous

“Telling a man if he’s allowed to own people or not” okay, never mind, I take that back

I don’t know why Sam picked the Watson-clown voice, but I’m glad he did (also I love that the voice made Luke break)

“Many Fingers Pussy” Jesus Christ, Tom

“They thought I had the devil in me” god damn it, now I feel bad for Bill

Sam is so good at playing wide-eyed innocent characters

“God, I wish they had that law in America in the modern day” I wish I had enough faith in people’s judgement to wish that

“I didn’t know you could do magic” I love it when Sam causes trouble

I can never see a reference to a one-man band like that and not think of Mary Poppins

“I can’t wait to hear those four white boys do those accents” oh dear

Luke speaking Spanish!!!

You know what, that vaguely Mexican accent could have been a hell of a lot worse, so well done, Sam

“So you can work on a farm, or you can jerk people off” oh my god, Sam

“He offered me a job” and then AJ realising what it sounded like and walking it way back

Tom entering the scene and waiting for a moment to join in and then Sam just throwing him in without warning is amazing

“I work here jerking people off” Tom

“She said she helps people el secrete-o” SAM

“Hand stuff Jesus is okay with” Sam

I don’t know why the fact that Tom knows little bits of Spanish brings me so much joy, but it does

Holy shit, Luke speaking Spanish with an American accent might be my new favourite thing

I love Maria, the bank robber/prostitute

You know what, I get Bill; the little, slightly mosquitoy “yeah”s are alluring

Half-kiss!!!

“A beautiful flower turns to a crooked leaf” I fucking adore AJ’s weird little sayings

“It’s a well-known expression” and then the advert with the merch saying ‘more well-known expressions’

“Something went worse than wrong. It went really wrong.” Gorgeous.

Sam’s slip oh my god

I know I already said Sam’s hair looks good, but Sam’s hair looks really good

I already said it but I will never be over Luke’s Spanish-in-an-American-accent. Never.

“I’ll keep my hands moist for you” it seems like Tom like using the word moist (the moisturiser fairy comes to mind)

I love audience participation

I’m sorry, as someone who struggles with mental math, that quick multiplication from Luke was impressive

“Got a lot of spunk in you, have you?” I love Tom using his English degree to make dirty jokes (obviously this doesn’t require an English degree; I just mean that it’s a wordplay joke)

I love Sam making sure to bring the story full-circle, with Tony losing his teeth and toes

Jesus, Tom

“Have we invented the electric chair yet?” I looked it up, and it looks like it was invented in the 1880’s, so not quite, but it wasn’t nearly so far off as I thought it might be

“I’ma travelling electric chair salesman” … honestly, I’m not even surprised at this point

Tom is right; this is really dark

I don’t think Sam knows how electric chairs work (affectionate)

Okay who the fuck let Sam wink like that

“Well, I guess that’s the end of the Shoot from the Hip show” I love when they get meta

“What could go wrong with giving a southern American teenager a pair of guns? I’ve got school tomorrow!” Holy fucking shit; may I present Sam Russell, the king of risky jokes

“…when we faked my death…” I love Tom so much

“I think this is the first time we’ve used the principle of the unreliable narrator” I actually love this so much; this is such a cool concept, especially for an improv show

Tom is unhinged in this one and I love it

I love this so much

I already made as post saying this, but it bears repeating: this is BUS levels of insane

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again no problem 11/26/2024

i don't have a good anecdote this week, i have the flu. look at my cat

listening

ty @shinygoodrock for the rec! billy bragg's the marching song of the covert. i was startled by the british accent but briefly forgot the uk's been colonizing way longer than god's favorite country, the usa

so SO cheery and so catchy! samples When The Ants Go Marching In!

Here we come with our candy and our guns And our corporate muscle marches in behind us For freedom's just another word for nothing left to sell And if you want narcotics we can get you those as well

it reminds me a lot of this poster i have framed but not hung up yet, jesse purcell's "A.G.F.T.P.O.T.U.S.O.A. (A Gift From The People Of The United States Of America)" (getcher own print at the link through justseeds)

-

reading

my favorite tinned fish newsletter is back! i like this newsletter for its dry anecdotal voice, but i coincidentally have a tin of mackerel in tomato sauce in the pantry for mackintosh name reasons. seems like the best way to have it is fairly plain with some light seasonings. the author was a senior editor at vice and has been out of work for a bit since that site's collapse, so it's good to see him back doing silly free nonsense like his tinned fish newsletter

i had Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis on hold for nearly six months so it extra hurt when i didn't particularly care for it.

like, what a premise! a beautifully written blurb that got my attention! i think i got an ad for this one on instagram. either that or it was floating around on this site.

A sharp-witted, high fantasy farce featuring killer moat squid, toxic masculinity, evil wizards and a garlic festival - all at once. Perfect for fans of T. Kingfisher, K. J. Parker and Travis Baldree. It’s bad enough waking up in a half-destroyed evil wizard’s workshop with no eyebrows, no memories, and no idea how long you have before the Dread Lord Whomever shows up to murder you horribly and then turn your skull into a goblet or something. It’s a lot worse when you realize that Dread Lord Whomever is… you. Gav isn’t really sure how he ended up with a castle full of goblins, or why he has a princess locked in a cell. All he can do is play along with his own evil plan in hopes of getting his memories back before he gets himself killed. But as he realizes that nothing – from the incredibly tasteless cloak adorned with flames to the aforementioned princess – is quite what it seems, Gav must face up to all the things the Dread Lord Gavrax has done. And he’ll have to answer the hardest question of all – who does he want to be? Dread Lord Gavrax has had better weeks.

this is a debut novel based on a friendgroup's DnD campaign, and it does show a bit. maybe you have a friend who’s freshly into improv? it gets a little wrapped up in Doing Bits. at several points i did think “i could be reading terry pratchett right now instead of enduring this bit.”

the writing itself is solid on a technical level-- there's a good balance of dialogue to description, no word choices really slammed me in the face, it flowed pretty nicely and was a fast read. flounders a bit in the middle but does pick up speed, a middling-okay pacing. if this were not a debut novel and felt a little bit more done on purpose i would be interested in talking about how the frantic lunge from plot point to plot point mirrors our protag's internal sense of self.

i do not think this rises to the level of farce, or even pastiche. it is a darkly comedic but fairly straightforward fantasy. very light PG romance elements.

so much of it is concerned with perceptions/expectations/visual tropes and then the big baddie is simply a baddie with no further interrogation. like a lot A LOT of philosophical musings on the nature of evil and the expectations thereof creating self image and morality and has unionized goblins. everything else in this book is questioned. you can’t go halfway with a deconstruction or you’re just writing more of the genre you’re trying to deconstruct. there was a scene that really clicked satisfyingly in my brain with a female sorceress, where she goes basically everyone expects me to be a bitch and a whore so let's just cut to the chase and have fun being a bitch and a whore. this alternate viewpoint of misogyny making you evil does not successfully contrast with our protag's internal calibration and view of evil but damn if that isn't the experience of being a woman in stem.

the protagonist, gav, wakes up with No memories and thereby becomes Good. or at least Better. does rozakis feel that everyone is born good and your reactions to things happening to you shape your morality? there's a reveal that one of the murders amnesiac!gav is most torn up about didn't actually happen bc his staff faked it and smuggled her out. i think this seriously undercuts the moderate amount of thinking and soulsearching and figuring out how to atone for past actions he does previously. and then it doesn’t really address any of the problems it tangled with in favor of a movie ending. it did tread a bit into therapyspeak for me. fewer shades of gray than i would have liked.

this book is also extremely heterosexual for what i expect a modern comedy fantasy to be. it neatly sidesteps the gay=/= evil conundrum but it was startling to find our protagonist with not even a curious homosexual thought.

occasionally irritating, but it was funny, except when it had to unfold some plot and forgot about being funny. this was a perfectly pleasantly written debut novel but wasn’t quite what i wanted or expected. it tries a lot of things and it’s interesting to watch the rube goldberg machine of a plot work and fail in some parts, even if it really did not carry through on its central philosophy.

-

watching

breezing through a lot of stuff bc it's easier to sleep propped up on my couch arm than in my actual bed. i usually don’t long DNFs but has to remind myself never to try Quo Vadis again. my god is that a tiresome film. and not even pretty costumes or pretty set design for the first forty minutes. whereupon i bailed. all of these were first time watches, dunno why I haven’t been reaching for comfort movies lately

-

playing

genshin update knocking it out of the park and also really reminding me of link tearsofthekingdom. also introduces a really good bird you can possess and fly around with. lots of vertical sky/coastline exploration which is so so so fun. i have done most of the things in this update inside a week bc i don't think they anticipated unemployed people like mainlining it between applying for jobs.

this girl's village has background music that reminds me of classic american westerns like bernstein or copland? heavy billy the kid ballet vibes. the music in this update is SO good im excited to yell about it in an future week when they drop the next album.

-

making

still fallow baybee. currently incubating the influenza. no longer feverish thank u nyquil

[aardvaark]

the librarians "and the christmas thief" (s4e3) watch through:

patron saint of thieves (ie st nick... ie santa), leverage deja vu!

this has some kath & kim vibes - not sure if that’s intentional from the US writers but i hope it is. you might know kath & kim from this meme:

"did you just say - mum?" maybe they’re already working out what he means, but surely for like one second cassandra was thinking "what did you just call me?!?"

okay woah too many hilarious things just happened at once -

this exchange (plus them all running around the table lmaooo):

ezekiel: "they're my family, i'll sort it out, please!" cassandra: "i thought WE were your family!" ezekiel: "you’re a different sort of family. i like you guys!"

^ but re: the above, i love the fact cassandra's offended that he has another family... you know, the family he grew up with. which does make sense from her pov because both cassie & jacob very much have difficult relationships with their own relatives & the library is like their "main" family. she seems to have assumed it was the same way for ezekiel (after all, he's clearly not talked much about his mum & sisters). so she feels confused & a little betrayed even though all he's done is like. have a mother. lol. very much not his fault but i get why she's a bit upset

also love cassandra's incredibly convincing lie to eve, "i found it. the bottle opener. was in the bottle opener drawer. with the other bottle openers".

baird saying "bye, kids" LMAOOO.

ezekiel kissing cassandra on the lips (to which she looks grossed out lol) & about to do the same to jacob before getting pushed away

-AND lastly, ezekiel saying his mum lives just outside sydney & cassandra goes "that explains the accent". did you think he was just talking like that for fun

CASSIES HAIR

jacob knowing about thankstaking day for some reason??

cassandra giving ezekiel's mum a disturbed stare while she discusses stealing christmas presents, but also introducing herself politely & hugging her lol.

plot of the grinch

thank god for cassie. the one who noticed the globe was missing, now the one noticing the globe is on fire

thief worldbuilding. i feel like a lot of this is like the stuff they would've joked about behind the scenes in leverage ("crime world") but couldn't really add to a show that is mostly grounded in real life stuff. also i remember a society of thieves or something being mentioned much earlier on in this show, when representatives from the library and dragons and the fae etc all met up that one time. for some reason thieves are included in magical society lol.

wait if they frame that guy for stealing here, won't he get liquidated?? hope that blew over

its cool that we've seen the same show runners pick two very different sets of laser-avoidance styles for their thief characters lol. parker (leverage) doing the gymnastics type vs ezekiel basically dancing. both chosen to fit the characters im assuming (or in parkers case, to fit what she would have been trained by archie to do - a very classic thief style, according to tv at least lol).

LOL "ezekiel jones? THE ezekiel jones?" exactly like "parker? THE parker?"

well thats why thieves are in magical society ig! santas brother is canonically running the bank of thieves. okay

ezekiel was literally robin hood. and i like that he knows he's lucky and supports people who just didn't have that luck. also him talking about stealing as an art (which he's alluded to before), he really does simply have a passion.

"it has been my experience that behind every egotistical blowhard, there is a petulant, scared little boy"

ezekiel ultimately saying that his mum didnt just teach him greed but also very much generosity & kindness <3 idk family is complicated, people are complicated.

LMAO my very first thought was "wasn't it facing the other way?"

[ventihonklightice]

Clingy || Wilbur Soot

word count: 3.5k

~~~

Y/N had been lounging around the flat all day as her boyfriend filmed videos with his fellow Minecraft friends. Wilbur had currently been recording with Tommy and Quackity, another one of their wild Minecraft mod videos. She knew her love was busy and had his responsibilities with his own videos alongside the ones made with his friends, but she had been scrolling through Twitter and saw that he had just gotten verified. There was no way he knew about the news as he had been busy all day doing his job.

A smile grew on her face as she rushed to his bedroom door to share the great news, however she paused as she heard the nature of his current discussion with his friends.

“- but she’s been good. We’ve been really good,” Y/N smiled at his words, seemingly knowing it was about her. That smile quickly disappeared at the words her boyfriend was about to spew. “Just, she’s been kind of needy and clingy or something,” Wilbur shook his head not fully understanding his own words, looking at the wall behind his monitor too lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t quite understand his own thoughts half of the time, especially today as all he has done was played Minecraft. Slowly, the hate he has been receiving has been catching up to him, forcing him into this pit he’d never thought he’d be in which added to the stress that fueled his words. “Like she thinks she always has to be with me. Right now even, she’s at the flat.” Wilbur ran his fingers through his messy brown hair as he proceeded to explain his relationship. “I love her, I do, but I can’t even be with her right now so I don’t understand why she has to be here,” he confessed, mind clouded with tiredness masked by the wine he downed in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Y/N furrowed her brows leaning forward to listen further. “Well, she loves you, so what do you expect her to do? Not want to be with you?” She heard an American accent, likely belonging to Quackity.

“I-I don’t know. It’s just- I’m not used to this. It’s been a while since I’ve seriously been with a girl like this before. I just need space, but she wants to be around me constantly. It’s annoying.” The anger, the annoyance, and the frustration were all evident in his voice, making Y/N second guess a lot of her choices the past few days. She looked down at her hands, the mustard sleeves reaching past her palms belonging to the man behind the door she leaned on.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to push back her tears before she walked away, not being able to listen to him any further. Her eyes began to water more and more as bothering him was the very last thing she had ever wished to do. She sat on the couch before pulling the jumper off of her body, folding it neatly in her hands before pulling on her shoes.

Fanning her face quickly to reduce any possible puffiness or redness, Y/N timidly knocked on the door to Wilbur’s room. “Hold on guys,” he spoke to his friends, muting himself on discord. “Yeah?” She heard his deep voice call from the other side, taking it as her cue to push the door open. His hair fluffed about as he turned to face her. “Hey what’s up?” He asked with a soft smile.

“I uh think I’m gonna head home, got an early shift tomorrow and all,” she spoke softly while avoiding his gaze. Y/N wasn’t one to lie so she felt guilty for doing so but she didn’t know what else to do.

He furrowed his brows, confused at her words. She almost always stays the night, especially when she works early because he lives closer to her job.

“You sure? You’re more than welcome to stay the night. Y-You always do,” he muttered with slight concern in his words as he took his headset off.

She shook her head lightly, “nah it’s alright. Gotta water the plants,“ Y/N fiddled with the door handle as her other hand traced the sweater, knowing full well she doesn’t have any plants.

“Alright, I’ll walk you out,” he stood up, adjusting the chair in order to do so. Y/N reached out to him, his jumper resting in her hand, “where’d you like me to put this?”

He stood up, increasingly getting confused at her actions because he knew that she loved wearing his clothes and stealing them any chance she got. “I-I’ll um, just toss it on the bed,” he pointed to the made bed, slipping on his shoes to walk her out.

She felt his form loom over her as he walked with her out of the flat and to her car. They walked in silence, uncharacteristically. Wilburs’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of his pants lost in his thoughts as he heard her car alarm He walked to the driver’s side, lost in his thoughts while he opened the door for her.

She approached the door, getting ready to sit in the driver’s seat before turning to Wilbur to bid goodbye. He leaned down to kiss her, standard for all of their farewells, but she turned her head at the last second, his lips crashing onto her cheek. His heart dropped at the odd situation he was placed in, wondering why this was happening.

“I-I’ll see you later,” she smiled softly before sitting down and preparing to drive.

He could let her go like this. He had to know if things were good, okay even. Before he shut the door, he leaned down a bit to get closer to her. “Is everything okay? You seem a bit off, darling.”

“Y-yeah I’m just really tired,” she chuckled humorlessly, placing a hand on her forehead. “Sorry, it’s just been a weird day.”

“If you’re that tired you could stay here,” his voice practically pleaded, assuring her once more that she always had a place there.

“I-I’ll be fine, I promise.” Her words were soft along with her eyes, but she just wanted to give him what he desired; space.

“You sure?” He asked once more, extremely concerned, but what answer was he really expecting? Y/N nodded her head, “positive.”

“Alright, text me when you get home,” he leaned back, preparing to shut the door for her. She nodded her head, pushing her keys into the ignition. “I love you,” he spoke sincerely, bending down so that she’d be able to see him better once more. There was an emotion in YN’s eyes that he couldn’t recognize, but the smile on her face was sad. “I-you too, I’ll see you later,” she fiddled with her keys before meeting his gaze.

His heart shattered at the words. You too? What the hell is that suppose to mean?

He gave a tight smile before shutting the door for her. You too, the words echoed in his mind as he began walking back to the front door, pausing his steps on the pavement to watch her pull out of the driveway. He sighed before turning back to his path home. Upon returning, the place felt dimmer without her presence and he quickly took note of that.

Letting out a huge sigh, he plopped down at his desk, unmuting himself on Discord. “Sorry bout that, I’m back. J-Just walking Y/N out,” he spoke, taking the only opportunity his friends quieted down to speak.

“Wilbur!” Tommy yelled as the rest of the VC, which now had Niki, Jack and Fundy, errupted in chaos. “W-What? What the fuck happened?”

“Dude you got verified on Twitter,” Quackity shouted. His eyes went wide, opening the light blue app to see if it was true. Sure enough, a small check mark emphasized his name. He beamed at the sight of it, rushing to make a tweet about how grateful he was.

He went back to his feed, noticing that Y/N had made a tweet about ten or so minutes prior.

y/n✨| @yourusername

so proud of my favorite boy getting verified <3 love you @WilburSoot !!

His heart clenched at the tweet, being drawn back to the events that occurred moments beforehand. He liked and retweeted it, watching his fans swoon at the couple’s interaction without knowing what was happening behind closed doors, before getting back to his friends being completely distracted by thoughts on the girl he loves.

~~~

Y/N never texted him to tell him that she was home. She woke up late that morning seeing a few texts from him about twitter, how his stream went and so on.

As she looked at the time on her phone, realizing the lie she told him about working early and chose not to answer quite yet.

She spent the rest of her day around the house, cleaning, cooking or watching TV. She wasn’t in any mood to go on social media, not wanting to interact with Wilbur quite yet. Y/N sighed thinking about yesterday, thinking that it would be a better idea to just give him some space.

And so she did, for several days before Wilbur’s worry consumed him.

He sat on Discord with his friends, days after his last interaction with his girlfriend. “It’s just weird because she’s never like this. She always calls or texts me whenever she gets the chance regardless of whether or not I ask,” he expressed to his friends as they were fucking around on their own Minecraft world. He wasn’t even paying attention to what he was doing in the game, just aimlessly pressing buttons and moving his mouse as he thought of Y/N.

Tommy chuckled shortly, “now look whos being needy.”

“Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur explained, running a hand across his chin, fingertips gracing his incredibly overgrown stubble. “Look I’m just saying,” the blond furthered, “there’s no need for you to say she’s clingy or whatever when your freaking out over a text! Like you saw her less than what, two, three ago?”

Wilbur shook his head, fuming now, “Oh my god, shut the fuck up Tommy! How would you, a literal child, know anything about what’s going on? You’ve barely hit puberty!” His outburst caused his friends to quiet down, them not being used to anger being directed in such a way.

“Wilbur,” Tommy started once again, becoming more serious, “I know you. You worrying over a few short days almost disproves everything you said the other day. I think you don’t know how to handle affection well, not that she’s clingy or whatever.” Hearing Tommy acting serious and not childish for this one second made something snap within Wilbur, knowing that the child was right.

He sighed, “I-I’m sorry for snapping at you. Everything is happening at once in my life right now and Y/N not talking to me has me worried. This isn’t what’s normal between us. It’s strange.”

“But isn’t this what you wanted? She isn’t being as ‘needy’ now. You got your wish, didn’t you?” George chimed in, hoping to help even though his own experiences with relationships hasn’t always been the best.

“Yeah, and I fucking hate it, I don’t know why I even said that. I don’t mean it. I love when she’s around, I hate when she isn’t,” Wilbur went on, his thoughts focusing on the good memories he has with his girlfriend.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Dream spoke ominously, feeling as if now was the most appropriate time to speak.

“I-I’m gonna call her,” the distressed twenty year old expressed, whipping out his phone to go to her number. As the phone rang, he became more and more nervous.

“What if she got in an accident? Or someone kidnapped her or something?”He rushed before him and his friends heard “please leave a message for 3-“

“Wilbur, she’s probably fine. She probably had a long day at work or something,” Niki spoke, hoping to add a small but of optimism to the situation.

“Yeah but she would’ve told me that. She would’ve called me to rant about her day, and tell me how much she wanted to see me, but she didn’t.” He leaned back in his chair, getting more and more stressed out over this.

“I-I think I’m gonna head to her flat.”

~~~

The drive was long as his anxiety slowly but surely began to increase with every green light. He pulled into her complex, parking and building up the courage to confront her.

“It’ll be fine. Things are fine,” he muttered to himself as he walked up the steps to the familiar doormat.

He knocked on the door, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. After a minute, there was no response so he knocked again with more ergency.

“Just a minute,” he heard her soft voice yell out, flooding him with relief. The voice wasn’t as warm as it typically was, only increasing his nervousness.

Before he knew it, Y/N opened the door, eyes meeting his chest before trickling to his eyes. “Wilbur? What are you doing here?”

He froze, shocked at the situation that he forced upon himself without realizing it. “I-You weren’t answering any calls or texts. I was worried,” he mumbled, immediately taking note of her puffy eyes.

“Have you been crying?” He stepped closer to her with concern lacing his voice. He reached out to hold her waist, caress her cheek, anything, but she stepped away slighted. Y/N blinked, “y-yeah, it’s just allergies.”

“You don’t have allergies like that Y/N. May I please come in?” Wilbur knew her better than that, probably even better than she knew herself. She nodded shortly opening the door wider for him to enter, looking down at her sock clad feet.

He entered the tiny flat, taking not that the once welcoming space has become littered with turmoil. The tissues by the sofa didn’t go unnoticed and neither did the pile of dishes in the sink. “What’s been going on? These past few days you’ve been acting strange,” he asked sincerely.

Y/N looked around, finding something and pretending to be busy with it. “I’ve just been busy,” she mumbled looking over the pile of mail she refused to actually look through. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, would you like some tea?” She asked, realizing her manners.

“Y/N,” he spoke defeated, “come on talk to me, please.” He practically begged as he followed her steps into the kitchen to start the kettle, even though he didn’t give her an answer.

“Everything’s fine, Wilbur,” she replied absentmindedly as she searched for her various teas. “We got chai tea, black tea, Engli-“

“Y/N, I dont fucking want tea right now I want you to talk to me,” he shouted, approaching her in the kitchen and forcing her to face him by pulling her waist gently. She gasped at the loudness of his words, not used to him yelling at her.

“Wilbur,” Y/N whispered, her hands on his chest as he looked down into her eyes. Desperation was clear in his before being mimicked in his words, “this is the longest you’ve gone without calling me Wil. Come on Y/N, please.” His voice cracked towards the end, the shakiness not leaving.

She closed her eyes tightly before she pulled herself out of his arms, turning to grab two mugs out of the cupboard, “you’re getting chai tea.”

“Love, I just want us to be okay,” he spoke passionately, pleading for things to be right.

“We are okay Wilbu- Wil,” she corrected, more so forcing the nickname to combat his complaint. As she prepared each cup, putting Wilbur’s desired amount of sugar into his cup and respectively her own.

He shook his head, not believing her words as his own eyes began to turn red, “there’s something wrong and I can tell. Please just-please Y/N.” His voice was completely broken and she knew she had to express her concerns. She paused her motions, staring at the jar of sugar she just placed onto the counter.

“I-I didn’t want to bother you,” she muttered softly, examining the mugs before her.

The man sniffed, confusion growing within him. “W-What do you mean? You could never bother me Y/N,” his voice soft, approaching her once again.

She shook her head, moving to put sugar in each cup, forgetting that she already did so, “but that’s not true. We both know that.” The water remained on the stove while copious amount of sugar occupied each cup. Wilbur gently grabbed the hand holding the spoon that shoveled the sugar into the mugs, making her stop her own actions.

“Yes it is, love.” Wilbur whispered softly as she put the spoon into the jar, coming back to reality. Y/N let out a shaky breath, facing the counter while Wilbur occupied her side, facing her.

“So why’d you tell all of your friends that I’ve been clingy and needy and overbearing and everything under the sun?” She whispered as her voice wobbled, indicating that tears would soon come falling down.

Wilbur furrowed his brows, confused at the words she expressed. He scavenged his mind, not understanding what she was stating. “What are yo-“ he cut himself off, taking his hand from hers as he remembered that conversation.

Guilt washed over his soul as he realized the greater impact of his words. She thought she had to change....for those idiotic meaningless words expressed in a fit of stress and exhaustion. He shook his head lightly, refusing to look at her, refusing to look at the damage he’s caused.

“I didn’t mean it Y/N. I just-there was a lot on my plate and I just had to complain about something. A-And you were there to complain about.” He spoke honestly, knowing that it doesn’t excuse his behavior. The sound of the kettle went off, the whistle tones attacking his ears while Y/N ignored it to focus on the conversation at hand.

“I just didn’t want to be a burden,” she muttered with a wobbling bounce that made the tall idiotic man pull her into his arms.

“No,no,no don’t ever ever think that again. You are not a burden. You never were Y/N. This is on me, I shouldn’t have said what I had said,” he muttered into her hair, repeating apologies like a mantra while kissing her hairline.

She let go, allowing her pent up feelings from the past few day flow out through tears while in the comfort of his arms, “my biggest fear is bothering people. I-I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” he pulled away to hold her tear stained cheeks in his hands, regret prominent in his gaze, “you have been nothing but patient with me these past few months and that is something I don’t even have the words to express, love.”

“You, Y/N L/N, are not a burden, not now, not ever,” he whispered lovingly. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I even said it. I didn’t mean it, but fuck I shouldn’t have. Look at what I’ve done to you,” his voice wavered as he pulled away to assess the damage. “Fuck,” he shook his head as a sob escaped his lips before he could pull her into his arms again.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, holding her tight while the whistle pierced his ears. She leaned back slightly, pressing her forehead against his while closing her eyes, “I know, I know. It’s okay. I know you. I know you wouldn’t mean it.”

“I love you,” he whispered, holding her head in one of his hands. “I love you too, Wil,” she whispered back, pulling his lips onto hers, sealing their words with this actions.

As much as he loved the feeling of her soft lips on his once again, he pulled away. “Okay, okay, as much as I don’t want this to stop, that damn kettle is driving me mad,” he expressed, making Y/N chuckle before kissing him on the cheek and going to turn off the stove.

He watched fondly as she was about to pour the water into the mugs, stoping to see the plethora of sugar in each. “Oh shit,” she paused, laughing at the mess she had made. Wilbur snapped out of his gaze, examining the scene that caused her words.

He shook his head lightly, grabbing the kettle from her hands before placing it back onto the stovetop. “You,” he turned to face her, poking her cheek, “go to bed, get all comfy and put on a film. I will finish the tea and bring it to you.” His eyes got soft towards the end of his statement as he went to assess the mug situation.

“Then,” he spoke gently, grabbing her waist once again, littering her face with kisses that trailed down her neck, “I’ll spend the whole day making it up to you.”

Y/N laughed, running her fingers through his soft hair, “can’t wait.” His lips stayed pressed onto her neck, before they made their way back to her own.

[cloudninetonine]

A Player's Aid: Chapter 6

It was perfect.

The outfit was perfect.

A tunic, made of soft white fabric that fell down to your mid-thigh, the sleeves cuffed with a brown material, embroidered with accents of gold, that seemed to follow to the hem of the garment and the neck, branching further down your shoulders before once again circling the collar. A wide, dark brown, leather waist belt kept it in place. Thick, soft tights that were stained a magnolia cream, a perfect fit despite being burrowed garb and brown traveller’s boots tightened accordingly.

You also had an undershirt, white same as your tunic, but that wasn’t important. What was important was the beautifully made cloak to go with your finished outfit. A beautiful shade of juniper green, pulling it over your shoulders showed it hung down low, the back tail dipping as far to your calf muscle, with the rest of it just reaching your knees, a double layer stopping at your belt and holding the fabric of a long hood that shadowed your features when you pulled it over your head.

Save for a single eye and glowing veins, glaring back at you in the reflection of a mirror on Wild’s desk, but you wouldn’t complain, it looked awesome.

“I am the main character” You whispered confidently, pulling the hood back off and smiling at yourself “Look at you go, indeed, (Full Name)”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs and you turned in the direction of the noise, meeting Hyrule’s awe-stricken face as he wandered up to your side, hands coming to cup at your shoulders and twisting you around to soak it all in. “You look incredible”

“Like an adventurer?”

“Even better”

You waved him off with a laugh “You flatter me, Fairy Boy”

The look he sent you back almost made you melt “Can you blame me?”

Damn, did this man have quite an influence over you. It had only been a day and it already felt like you had known each other for a lifetime. Such kind words had such a powerful effect, your face felt hot, your heart fluttered- this wasn’t fair. Maybe it was because he was already someone who you deeply admired? Character or not, each and every one of the Links had been through something that would obviously be deemed courageous and now you could only hold them up in such high regard.

They were heroes, you were but a humble student who was working into an uncertain future. Why wouldn’t his- any of their praise not make you flush up in a bashful daze?

“Oh, I have something for you, actually-” his hand moved to one of the many little pouches hanging from his belt, your eyes watching in awe as his hand dipped deeper than it possibly could (That had to be magic, there was no way-) and pulled out an item, presenting them to you: an identical pair of gloves to his own “I just thought you could use some extra protection”

You smiled with a bit of cheek “Protection? I hate to tell you, handsome, but I don’t think your gloves are very protective- they’re more decorative than anything”

Hyrule flushed, the tips of his ears going red and twitching in embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair “Well, I- uh- you’re not wrong-”

“Thank you, Link” Leaning over, your lips pressed against the apple of his cheek and you took the gloves from his hands “I appreciate the sentiment”

You only just finished putting the extra garments on when you noticed his silence, eyes running to return to stare at the pupil blown look he was sending right back, hand pressed against the cheek you had kissed and mouth slightly hung open.

Oh god- “I’m sorry, Hyrule, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine, it’s fINe!” He yelped, voice cracking for a second time that day and had you bursting into laughter, holding a hand over your mouth shamefully when he huffed, a faux glare settled onto you before he explained “It’s just….it’s been a long time since you’ve done that”

“What?”

“Kiss me- well-” Your bug-eyed look at him stumbling to explain “You didn’t exactly kiss me- you used to scream stuff like, “I think that deserves a smooch!” or “I’m giving you a kiss, my boy!” then you’d make these little kissing noises and I would feel my face heat up as if I was actually being kissed- like on my nose, my forehead, my cheeks- it’s silly-”

With a click of your tongue, you shook your head “Sounds like something I would do- I hope I wasn’t too obnoxious”

The man staggered with his words once again “It wasn’t! It was…it was nice. You made me feel less alone”

There he went again, unintentionally making you feel bad for a memory you weren’t sure even existed. This idea of you in his head was so very accurate to what you were, how you presented yourself to those around you, hinting at actions that sounded like he had you down to a T. But here you were, ignorant about who he truly was. Sure there was the cartoon, but that wasn’t a very accurate depiction it seemed, not with him being a very modest and sweet man, one that made animated Link look like a complete dunce in your eyes. Hyrule was an amazing person, someone who you could rely on but what were you? You weren’t this great guide he had described to you the night before, you weren’t anything special.

You were you and you were the only thing you could possibly return to such a great man.

“Well,” You smiled, hoping that it reached your eyes “I’m glad that I could be that for you”

You offered him a hug which he took gratefully, hiding the conflicting look on your face into his shoulder as he squeezed you firmly in return.

“Get a room!”

Your head whipped around in horror, glaring over the bannister to the small sailor who had re-entered the home. “PARDON??”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Wind was quick to race up the stairs, his laughter bouncing off the walls at his earlier jest. His eyes widened at the sight of your outfit, looking you up and down before a great grin bloomed on his face and he sent you a hearty thumbs up. “You look awesome! It already feels as if you’re part of the team”

A wave of shyness washed over you “I wouldn’t say that-”

“I don’t know” Hyrule’s hand landed on your shoulder and he gave you an encouraging smile, “I think he’s on the right track”

For God’s sake, why did this guy seem determined to make you soft?

Wind tugged at your sleeve “Hey, so I was thinking since we’ve only got the day left here and you haven’t really seen Hateno Village properly- I’d show you around!”

The sailor was already tugging you down the stairs, almost leading with you tumbling down the steps similar to how you had tumbled down the hill nearby the Inn “But like, this isn’t really your Hyrule? How can you show me around a place you barely know yourself?”

He looked back at you “We’ve been here for the past 3 months! So I think I’d know my way around by now”

3 months? How long had they been at this Shadow chase then?

“Well, alright, don’t let me stop you, boss man”

Wind grinned “Perfect! Let’s go!”

-----

“Any more news?”

The sunset burnt the horizon, the sky melting colours of orange, yellow, purple and blue for all to see as the night grew closer to the kingdom of Hyrule. The evening was still young, of course, but all the Captain could feel was fatigue in his bones.

“The Innkeepers told of a creature as dark as the night being spotted heading towards the West by travellers, eyes as red as crimson” Hopping off Epona as Twilight emerged from the undergrowth, The Hero of Warriors met the eye of the eldest hero “It’s him, that we’re sure of and he’s gathering more monsters as we speak”

Time narrowed his gaze “How many?”

“Too many” Twilight’s hand grabbed at his horse’s reins, “We got some singled out, however, there’s a big camp, too big for us alone, we’ll need everyone else”

“Curse the Three”

“Such a mouth, Old Man'' The Captain joked, trying to rid of the tension gathering on the man’s face. The comforting smile he had dropped when Time grabbed the bridge of his nose, massaging the area with an irritated sigh “You mustn’t worry-”

“That thing had been missing for months, now it drags this- person into this world and ups it attacks? What is its goal? What was the reason for it dragging our guest here? There are too many questions that have no answers and I am getting tired of it”

Time was already on his way back to the village, the two other elder heroes sharing a knowing look before hurriedly following after him.

The whole Chain had been worried when monsters had begun to decrease in numbers. An odd thing to be concerned about, however, they knew what trouble came with something like this. What had the creature been planning? Gaining more power to summon a whole entire army of black-blooded beasts? Maybe pull an incarnation of pure evil, Ganon, into this world? What was it planning? Why did they have to wait around for it to happen!?

Then you came and everything was turned upside down.

Pressure was placed on everyone by the reveal, questions running through heads about what was real and what was not. Were you a reliable source or were you just some mad person who didn’t need magic to play some real illusions? No one knew, everyone felt as if they were struggling to grasp reality itself but they couldn’t exactly express themselves, not when the Shadow’s reappearance hung over them like a dark cloud on a sunny day.

The Old Man obviously placed the burden on his own shoulders, keeping his feelings that which they were- his own and acting as the rock for everyone’s shattered perception of what was real and what was not. Everyone knew what he was doing but it wasn’t like they’d take this thing- this one thing he believed he was good for away from him.

Act oblivious so that the eldest could sleep at night (if he ever did sleep, that is)

“We will get answers soon enough” The ranch-hand reassured as they re-entered the village, the sounds of folk retiring for the night all around them “We just need to be a little more patient”

Time huffed “That is starting to feel like something even I cannot seem to muster anymore”

A silence hung over them.

Then voices grew louder around them.

-----

"Okay so, Link with the long Blue scarf is the Hero of Warriors, the other with the Multi-coloured tunic is the Hero of the Four Sword, the one with the white Cape is the Hero of Skyloft and that's about it, yeah?" At Wind's nod, you spoke once again "So, Warriors, Four and Sky- easy enough"

The sailor took a bite of his apple, raising a brow your way as you continued back to the house "Why don't you just refer to us as our titles? Or nicknames we already have?"

"Because for starters, it's weird. Imagine Trying to introduce your friend as the Hero of Winds, not only would they think it's odd they'll also think you're vain. Second, calling you sailor alone feels dehumanising and I refuse to do that-"

"Wow, you sure talk a hell of a fucking lot-" One of those comical expressions crossed over the young boy's face and you snorted, watching as he covered his mouth then turned to you with an apologetic look "Sorry"

You laughed "It's alright, bitch, I be cursing all the mother fucking time"

Wind blinked before smiling in awe "I'm so glad you joined us"

You ruffled his blonde locks "Me too, buddy, me too"

You both stopped at the sight of Time, Twilight and Warrior's looking towards you, all with displeasing looks upon their faces while you two avoided eye contact, turning around to speak quietly as if they weren't there.

"You're not allowed to cuss in front of them, are you?"

"Nope"

"You think they heard us?"

"Yup"

"....Fuck"

A look of determination crossed his features "A pirate doesn't go down without a fight"

Then you both nodded towards each other and spun back around to face them.

That's when you spotted a very familiar horse behind the Twilight Hero, eyes widening in surprise as a small smile grew on your face with an excited mutter of 'Epona!' left your mouth.

The horse perked up.

Without warning she began to tread ground, the men letting out sounds of surprise when she pushed past them all and trotted over to your little duo, the steed making circles around you both before finally settling with pushing her snout into your hands. Giddy laughs fell from your mouth as you began to move your hands gently against her face, you praised her making sure to run a hand through her mane.

"Hey girl," Her eyes closed when you leaned your head against her neck, nuzzling into her fur. "It's nice to officially meet you too"

The men were silent.

Twilight finally gaped "She's never…"

'… Done that with a stranger', he wanted to finish with but he bit his lip, not sure how the words would translate with the others.

You smiled, patting Epona gently before taking a step back "Guess I'm just special then!"

He swallowed "... Yeah, maybe"

The ranch-hand was finally beginning to understand his predecessor's want for answers.

"The Cook has probably prepared dinner" Time turned back to the bridge, once again beginning his stride to the Wild Hero's home. "We shouldn't keep everyone waiting"

Epona followed after you when you all started back up to the house, right behind you the whole way and huffing at your hair playfully despite your equally playful cries, speeding up to get away. You were positive that the others were staring but at this point, you couldn't bring yourself to care, they had been doing it so much already you felt as if you'd become desensitised to it.

A beautiful whistle caught your attention, head-turning to watch as Twilight pulled Ilia’s whistle away from his mouth and gestured for Epona to follow, your little admirer huffing for a final time into your locks then wandering over to her master, Wind tugging you into the home where everyone else was gathered.

“Your arrival is well-timed” Wild called, plating something that smelled absolutely divine into multiple bowls “Come and eat”

-----

So dinner was much more awkward than anticipated.

Almost dead silent.

Sure, a few of the boys piped up once in a while, asking about plans, talking about the shadow but almost immediately they would fall back into silence then poke around at their food. You weren’t any better really, you stayed quiet and only stabbed at Wild’s amazing cooking sadly, wanting to eat but being too nervous while in the presence of these (practically) strangers.

You glanced over to Wind.

He glanced over to you.

You both bit back and smile then turned away, you biting your lip and him covering his mouth.

Nervous laughter either made the situation better or more awkward, you weren’t sure if this was the time but the sailor was making you feel better so who cared?

You looked at each other once again and snorted.

Hyrule glanced your way quizzically, actually, they all did but you but your focus solely on him to keep yourself from freaking out. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine-” You burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your elbow and tears gathering in your eyes, face hot from how hard you were laughing “It’s- wooooh, it’s just this is so awkward”

Everyone looked away at the mention.

“And I’m not very socially adept enough to break this atmosphere soooo-” You pushed your chair away from the table, standing to your full height “I’m gonna eat outside”

Sky fidgeted “It doesn’t need to come to that-”

You waved him off "You guys are uncomfortable around me I get it- I would be too in your shoes so I'll just hang outside so you guys can feel better"

Grabbing your plate you turned towards the door only more there to be more moving chairs, glancing back to the table where Hyrule, Wind and Wild were reaching for their own food.

"We will join you"

"You don't have to-"

"We want to so hurry up!" Wind joked, nudging you with his shoulder "I'm hungry!"

"Okay, okay!"

"This isn't necessary-" Time tried to start but you were already out the door, the other three following behind with the Traveller sending the other scolded looks before closing the door.

The eldest Link sighed.

Silence once again hung over them.

"Are we just gonna let them do this?" Five faces turned towards the Hero of Legend, studying his soured expression. "Let them tear us all apart? Let them bring down the bonds we have formed with one another? Look, they are already causing a divide and it’s been a day! How are none of you worried about this!?”

It was obvious to the others just how much the man seemed to despise you. Yes, while the group was indeed worried, having their doubts, not trusting their own instincts that there wasn’t anything to worry about with you but they were civil, they didn’t try to outwardly show any negative (or positive really) emotions towards you. However the Veteran didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. They saw the glares, they weren’t blind and some had overheard the conversation from the previous night between him and yourself.

The Hero of Legend wasn’t afraid to show his hatred or suspicion of you and while they had come to know the man, one question still remained.

“Why?”

Legend turned toward Sky, raising an aggressive brow “Why, what?”

The other didn’t react, only steeled his disposition “Why do you dislike them so much? They haven’t exactly done anything to cause such a reaction. (Name) has seemed to be completely forward to all of us, they have answered our questions with only minimal hesitation, which was only due to the sheer severity of what their words entailed and they have also kept a distance as to not to disturb us any more than they already have. The Traveller approached them: The Sailor approached them: and as for the Cook, we were informed that they made an effort to apologise and for what? Telling him the truth? Vet, we know you, along with the Traveller have the most experience with liars and therefore know when to sniff out deception. If the other seems comfortable, certain that this person that practically fell out of the sky isn’t some dark entity hoping to trick us, why aren’t you?”

It seemed that stillness was being adopted by this quaint little abode- the other four heroes held their voices, not allowing a single peep to past from their lips while keeping their gazes on the Link in question, his soured face fighting with a look of confliction until finally did he bite his lip, turning away from their burning eyes to spit out a single sentence.

“Because I’m not blind to whatever power they hold.”

“Power?” The smallest questioned, raising a brow “As in their device?”

Legend poked at his food aggressively “If that’s what you want to believe.”

Time narrowed his eyes “Is there something you want to tell us, Vet?”

And the pink-streaked man huffed “Nothing that we all already know.”

Everyone’s mouths fell shut once more.

Then the sound of laughter came muffled from outside. It was boisterous, it was loud, it was entertained and it had them all glancing towards the door, unintelligible shouting following after only for more howls of hysteria to continue on.

“Sounds like they’re having fun” Warriors commented.

Hums of agreement echoed through the space.

Then Sky was pushing away from the table, grabbing his food and heading towards the door. “I think it’s time we give them a chance, after all, they will be accompanying us on our journey”

Four glanced at the last of them, his eye colours dancing in the light then quickly followed after the knight, “He’s right, you know”

He made sure to shut the door softly after him.

The remaining four shared looks.

“I guess we have no choice” Twilight stood along with Time.

“I hope that we will meet you both outside also”

When there was only two, Legend and Warriors, the pinked hair hero looked up, catching eyes with the Captain across the table, eating silently as to not disturb the peace.

“Are you not going to join them?”

Warriors smirked “And leave you behind to sulk?”

“I am not sulking!” Legend snapped, stabbing at his food “I do not sulk! The Hero of Legend, does not sulk!”

“Hmm, but he does like to hide away from his problems”

“Take that back!”

“Once you go and join everyone outside, I’ll consider it-”

“Fine!” Jumping from his seat, he picked up his bowl in a more rough fashion to the others, some food flying out onto the table below but he didn’t even spare his attention to it, sending a pointed look at his grinning friend then marching towards the door “I do not sulk! And I certainly do not hide from anything!”

The blonde chuckled, standing up considerably calmer than the previous Link had and trailing after him smugly “Of course not”

-----

“As tall as the sky? That surely isn’t possible”

“That’s the thing-” You caught the ball Wind had tossed to you, throwing it right back to him as you continued with your explanation “From the angle you look at them they look like they do and some actually are tall enough to reach the clouds! The tallest skyscraper is in this place called Dubai”

Four leaned forward from his space on the rock he had chosen as his seat, a scowl on his face “And these skyscrapers are made from glass? That is foolish, brick would be much more sufficient”

The others piped up in agreement.

“Well, not just glass, the buildings are reinforced by a material called concrete and steeled beams however the exteriors have been designed with glass but not just any glass, reinforced glass! Which is much thicker and tougher than the everyday glass in this era. It would actually take a few whacks from a hammer to break it” You hopped up to catch the ball when it flew a little too high over your head, sending a smug Wind an unimpressed look and tossing it higher back at him, smirking when he yelped and chased after it “It’s a type of architecture style called ‘Modernism’ and it’s extremely common in major cities”

“A type? Meaning there’s more”

“So much more- OW!” Wind flinched when the ball made contact with your nose, your form stumbling back a few notches before throwing a playful glare his way “Wind, you dickhead!”

“I’m sorry it was an accident!”

“It will be once I’m done with you!”

It wasn’t exactly perfect. You and the other three heroes had made it work outside, laughing at each others jokes, exchanging stories and eating the delicious meal that Wild had prepared only to pause at the entrance of Sky and Four, awkward looks on their faces but braving a smiles with kind greetings. It was expected to be just as difficult as before, but when you kicked off conversation once again they easily fell into it, you didn’t even react when the others came to join, just continued on as now.

Then Wind remembered he had a ball in one of his bags and it escalated from there.

“I’m gonna toss you into the pond!” The boy struggled in your arms but his laughter brushed off the idea of any fear, your own chuckles falling deaf to your ears as he begged for mercy, snorting and wheezing the entire time “Get ready, sailor!”

“No, no!”

“One! Two! Three-....”

You paused, doing a double-take then glancing upwards, mouth falling open.

And a concerned wave washed over the heroes.

“(Name)?” Hyrule called, jogging over to where the both of you were. “Are you okay?”

Wind wiggled out of your arms, standing close as he studied your frozen form.

The others went to stand too.

“(Nam-”

“I’ve never seen so many stars in my entire life”

It came out as a whisper, so soft but so full of raw emotion that the boys had only heard a few times before. You were enamoured, there was no doubt, taking a few steps away from the pond, out of the shade of the tree to stare at the night sky properly.

Eyes flying over the expansion of sky, painted midnight blue with speckles of white, the colours of the cosmos dusted in with such precision that they melted perfectly like some sort of heavily detailed oil painting. No man-made illumination broke the beautiful view, not the blue of the Sheikah tower or shrine in the distance, not the soft glow of the monster campfires or the fiery red from Death Mountain, no, there wasn’t anything that could ruin this moment for you.

“Look at them” You breathed, “I hate to sound like a cheesy, old git but that shit is breathtaking”

Legend huffed but someone quickly shushed him. It didn’t matter though, you snapped out of your trance quickly after that.

“Sorry, that was weird-”

“You have really never seen that many stars?” You caught Sky’s gaze “This is normal for Hyrule, are you saying that it’s different back in your world?”

You shrugged “Yup, there’s barely anything to see, too much light pollution”

“Light pollution?” Warriors added, “What’s that?”

“Well, back in my world there are lights that are man-made, artificial light are what we call them, which fire is actually counted as and they’re all over the place. We’ve got them in homes, we’ve got them outside, you think it it’s probably there and because there’s an abundance of it, it creates light pollution, which basically creates a layer over the sky and hides the stars from view”

Twilight frowned “How disappointing….”

“Eh, it’s how it is.” You shrugged, turning back to stare “At least I’ve gotten to experience it. Oh, I wish I could take a picture to show my mum and friends when I get back home!...”

Your smile dropped.

Home…You were so far from home. Not miles, not countries, not even worlds, you were a whole universe away from everyone you cared about. Your mother, your friends- everything you had ever known was at an impossible distance and you felt your stomach twist with each thought that nudged its way into your brain space. Is this how astronauts felt when they left Earth for the vacuum of space?

Not to mention, how you had been brought here. A panicked driven 999 call that ended abruptly with no explanation, just silence and static before the phone shut off altogether. They had gotten your name, they knew who they were looking for, which meant your mother had been told you were missing, which meant your friends had been told you were missing, probably everyone you knew had been informed you were missing.

Were you over the news? Or were you a silent investigation? Had they thrown the case away altogether with barely an evidence? Were your friends looking for you? Was your mother okay? How much time had passed? What-

“Hey” An arm wrapped around your shoulder, Hyrule’s kind face with worried filled eyes coming into view as he tugged you gently towards the direction of the house “Let’s go inside, okay? Time thinks now is the time for rest”

Everyone else had stood up with their bowls, waiting for the both of you to follow which you did after a nod of understanding from you, treading quietly back to the house while you tried to keep your panicked tears inside.

“Would you stay with me, tonight?” You asked Hyrule quietly, your hand intertwined with his own “If you don’t feel comfortable, I understand, I- I just-”

He squeezed your hand gently back in return “Of course”

Your sleep was restless that night, but at least you had Hyrule’s comfort, cuddled against him until the morning came.

------------------------------

I am so sorry this took so long guys but I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! I hope I can get the next one out sooner than I did this one!

Also I am still working on your requests! I just wanted to get this out first!

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

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

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

Pinterest Board

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

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

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

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

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

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

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

But something kept holding her back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“I see,” she mused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response came only seconds later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really good job, kiddos.

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

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Fans took notice and loved it.

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

The fans loved that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to celebrate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

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

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

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

“What a dirtbag.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Noted.”

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

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

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

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

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

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

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

“Rude-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was her best friend.

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

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

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, love.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

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

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

He was always in hers.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

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

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

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

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

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

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

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

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

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

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

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She could never say no to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

There he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t remember anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a question, princess.”

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

“What’s so funny?”

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

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

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

“You're cruel.”

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

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

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

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

“But why Harry’s?”

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither do I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[mrs-gucci]

Gucci’s Girl [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. Apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. grinding. multiple orgasms. pretty vanilla sex.

(possible) tw’s: infidelity (he’s engaged, not married).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

“Y/N, will you stay after for a bit?”

Mr. Gucci walks over to your desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

You nod, smiling up at your boss.

“Of course, Mr. Gucci.”

Inside, you were panicking. 

He’s never asked you to stay after work before, except on your first day, which made sense.  But this doesn’t make sense… 

He returns the smile.

“Excellent. Just come to my office.”

You continue to work, faxing and typing away until the clock read five. 

Everyone else begins to pack up and bids you farewell as you make your way up to Mr. Gucci’s office.

The wooden door has never looked more intimidating than it does in this moment, as you raise your knuckles and knock.

“Entra in.” (Come in.)

You take a deep breath before you turn the handle, forcing a smile on your face.

He looks so scary and intimidating when he sits at his desk, a fact that, when you told him, made him laugh.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Come in, sit down.”

The chairs in his office are top-of-the-line, a refreshing change from the less-than luxurious chairs out on the floor.

Mr. Gucci lights a cigarette and takes a drag before standing up and walking around to take a seat in the chair next to you.

When he sees your confused expression, he laughs softly, taking another drag.

“I know you think I look scary sitting back there, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Your eyes go wide.

“O-Oh, that’s not what I meant—“

“I know, tesoro.”

He chuckles, eyes flickering over your face before he speaks again. 

“So, the annual House of Gucci Ball is coming up, as you know.”

You nod.

“And, I was wondering...would you want to...come with me?”

Your stomach drops.

“W-What?”

The CEO looks incredibly flustered and anxious, a new look for him.

“My fiancée isn’t feeling well and as the head of the House, I really don’t want to go alone…”

In a bold move, you reach out and gently place your hand over his. He looks up at you, and you smile.

“I’d, uhh, I’d love to go, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.”

The corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and his eyes dart away from yours as he takes another drag.

“I’ll have the company tailor come in tomorrow and take your measurements for a gown. And you’ll come here three hours beforehand in order to have hair and makeup done.”

You’re still partially in shock as he discusses dresses and makeup and hair. 

It’s become clear to you over the past few weeks that he has feelings for you, and you think they’re the same feelings that you have for him. 

But obviously, neither of you can act on them, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s set to be married in a few months, and there’s a very strict company policy that forbids relationships between workers and their supervisors.

So, it left this unresolved tension between the two of you, and you literally just agreed to spend an entire night at an event with him.

The reality hits and you feel lightheaded.

Oh my god, I’m going to the company ball with Maurizio Gucci.

Four Weeks Later

The elevator dings and you step out into the now-vacant office. You see several people standing around a portable salon setup, and they all turn to look at you.

“Miss Y/N?”

One of them asks.

You nod.

“Si.” (Yes.)

They quickly sit you down in the chair and begin applying makeup and doing your hair.

-

You’re tearing up a little bit as you look at yourself in the mirror. Clad in a long, form-fitting gown and in full hair and makeup, you look and feel like a princess.

The stylist hands you a small accent clutch and almost immediately after, the elevator dings, and Mr. Gucci steps out, clad in a snappy black suit, not unlike what he wears at work everyday. 

That man is never not in a suit, you’ve learned.

His eyes go wide as you step down from the small platform. Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze.

The stylist looks nervous as his eyes roam your figure. 

She speaks up a moment later, voice meek.

“Il vestito e il trucco soddisfano i suoi standard, signore?” (Does the dress and makeup meet your standards, sir?)

He tears his eyes away from you, and nods at the stylist.

“Ha superato le mie aspettative.” (It’s exceeded my expectations.)

You’re blushing madly now, unable to meet his eyes as you feel him looking at you again.

Soon, the stylist packs up and leaves just you and Mr. Gucci alone. 

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“You look...beautiful, absolutely beautiful, tesoro.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, absolutely starstruck by his handsomeness. He somehow manages to look better and more attractive every time you see him. 

“You’re too sweet, sir.”

He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. 

“Please, I’m Maurizio tonight.”

You nod, trying his name on your tongue. 

“Maurizio.”

Mr. Gucci smiles as he releases your hand.  “We have a few minutes before the car gets here...would you like some water? Espresso?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” You say. 

A few moments of sexually-charged silence lingers between you two.

“Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight.”

He says suddenly.

“I always enjoy our time together, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Me too.”

“Really? You do?”

Maurizio blushes slightly.

“It’s just...I’m an old man, you’re a young woman...”

You chuckle as you reach out to hold his hand.

“You’re not old, sir—Maurizio. And yes, really, I do enjoy our time together.”

“I’m glad.”

He says, eyes flicking down to your lips as he leans in a little bit.

Wait...what? Is he gonna… Fuck, oh god, this can’t happen...

Honk!

He flinches at the sound, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

“I guess the car is here.”

You chuckle nervously as he holds out his hand, and you take it, walking alongside him to the elevator. 

It’s a short drive to the hotel and when you two arrive, there are swarms of paparazzi, all crowding around the car when the driver pulls to the curb. 

Maurizio clearly sees your overwhelmed expression and tension, reaching over to squeeze your hand. 

“Don’t worry, tesoro. Just stay by my side and don’t answer any of their questions, yes?”

You nod and he gets out, walking around to open your door and help you out of the car. Immediately, when the press sees that you’re not his fiancée, the cameras flash even more rapidly and voices overlap one another. 

“Sei la nuova fidanzata di Maurizio?” (Are you Maurizio’s new girlfriend?)

“Maurizio, dov’e la tua fidanzata?” (Maurizio, where’s your fiancée?)

“Strumento a mano.” (Gold digger.)

“Puttana americana.” (American whore.)

They were all basically on top of you, asking so many questions and saying so many things about you, it was incredibly overwhelming.

Suddenly, Maurizio’s voice boomed through the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

“Lasciala in pace!” (Leave her alone!)

His arm wraps tighter around your waist, pressing you even further into his side as he walks you both into the building. The cameras and crowds were almost completely silent, still, and you were just trying to process it all as the two of you walked into the event, you still tucked into his side.

He stopped just inside the door and let you go, taking your hands instead, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

“Are you okay, tesoro? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

You shake your head, still trembling a little bit. 

“N-No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up.”

“They’re vicious and relentless...mi dispiace. I should’ve warned you about them beforehand, but I’m relieved that you’re okay.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s okay, Maurizio, really.”

You smile sadly.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He wraps an arm around you again, gently squeezing your hip before rubbing it lightly. 

“Of course, anything for mi tesoro. I’m indebted to you for joining me tonight.”

You’re blushing, eyes darting away from his. 

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. It’s an honor to accompany you, and I’m sorry that my presence caused so much trouble for you, with the press.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He smiles, eyes lingering on you for a moment before guiding you into the massive ballroom. 

You’re absolutely stunned by the beauty of it, the chandeliers glittering on the ceiling as they illuminate the entire room. 

Maurizio seems to notice your staring, and pauses as well, chuckling softly. 

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

You turn to him and nod, smiling. 

“It’s beautiful.”

Once you get inside and take your seats, Maurizio is immediately flocked with people wanting to speak with him. Some of them give you a judgemental glance or gaze, and you just look away, taking another sip of your wine. 

This is gonna be a long night.

-

Naturally, Maurizio has been talking to people nonstop all night, which was expected of course, but for some reason, you’d sort of hoped he’d make some time for just the two of you. You genuinely enjoy his company, he’s actually really kind and funny when he’s not in ‘work mode’. 

Why would he do that for you? You’re just his replacement date, Y/N, nothing more.

So, you sit back in your chair and casually nibble at the new dinner course that was put on your plates a few minutes ago. 

A dance song begins to play and suddenly, Maurizio stands up and holds his hand out for you. 

“Would you like to dance, mi tesoro?”

“Absolutely.”

You blush, biting your lip as you stand up.

He places his hand on the small of your back as you two walk onto the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck while he places his hands on your waist, holding you close as the two of you begin gently swaying to the slow tune. 

“It’s nice to step away from the table for a bit.”

He says, chuckling. 

“I only see these people once a year, so they always want to talk the night away.”

You laugh. 

“I understand, and I’m happy that I could provide an excuse for you to get away, even if only for a few minutes.”

“You’re anything but an excuse, Y/N.”

Maurizio says, blushing a bit. 

“I’ve been wanting to make some time to spend with you, but I haven’t gotten the opportunity. I’m sorry for that, this must be tedious for you.”

You shake your head. 

“No, it’s alright, although I do respect your fiancée much more now that I understand what happens at events like this.”

You jest, and he laughs.

“But, in all seriousness, I’m fine. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep me entertained, I understand my role for tonight.”

His face sinks ever so slightly, but he still smiles nonetheless. 

“I did hope to spend some time with you, though. Like I said, I enjoy spending time with you.”

The song suddenly ends and a much more upbeat one takes its place. 

Maurizio’s face seems to light up, and he smiles widely. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

You’re suddenly lifted up and spun around. You laugh the entire time and he continues spinning you. 

The whole world seems to fade and suddenly, it’s just you two on the dancefloor. 

Your eyes are glued on one another as he sets you back down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so genuinely. You briefly wonder how many of these moments he gets to have with his job.

You’re still laughing as he takes your hand and tries to twirl you around. He’s laughing along with you as you start to twirl, but you forgot how long your dress is, and you start to fall backwards.

A strong arm reaches down and scoops you up before you can hit the floor, and suddenly, you’re centimeters away from his face, his breath tickling your skin. 

He’s still smiling as he slowly stands back up with you in his arms. 

“Be careful, tesoro. We’re not taking any trips to the emergency room tonight, okay?”

You smile, unable to bring yourself to take your eyes off of him as you’re placed back onto your feet, his arm still around you, holding you close. 

You allow yourself, for the first time since your internship began, to take in all of his features. You let your eyes drink in his beauty and it feels like time has stopped. He’s even more handsome up-close, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his features. 

Before you know it, he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, his lips so close now.

“Voglio davvero baciarti, tesoro.” (I really want to kiss you right now, treasure.)

He whispers.

His voice is so deep, yet soft and full of yearning. It sends a chill down your spine.

“Non ti fermero, bello.” (I’m not going to stop you, handsome.)

“Bene.” (Good.)

He leans forward the rest of the way and your lips connect in a tender embrace. 

You close your eyes and let your hand reach up to cradle the side of his face. 

He soon pulls away, a face-splitting grin on his face. 

You’re wearing a similar expression.

“Mi chiedevo quando l’avresti finalmente fatto.” (I was wondering when you were finally going to do that.)

You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his slightly.

Maurizio laughs softly.

“Mi chiedevo quando avrei dovuto farlo anch’io.” (I was wondering when I was going to do it, as well.)

The moment is quickly ruined when you realize exactly where you are, and you’re afraid to know how many people saw that. You quickly stand up straight and so does he, both of you taking a small step away from each other as you straighten yourselves out. 

When you turn back towards the table, all of the people stare right at you, and you feel your face get hot. You look up at Maurizio when he comes up beside you.

“I think I’ll just catch a cab back to the house…”

You say, looking down.

He looks over at the table, seeing his work colleagues giving you judgemental glares. His finger gently lifts your chin until you’re looking up at him again.

“Let me take you back, tesoro. It’s the least I can do, and we can talk about...everything.”

You nod. 

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Maurizio shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that in such a public space.”

Your cheeks get warmer. 

“Are you saying that you still would’ve done it?”

His cheeks go pink as he looks away. 

“Yes, I still would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

Is this real?

He clears his throat, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“Why don’t you go up to the front while I retrieve our stuff from the table? I’ll make sure that no one says anything or thinks poorly of you.”

“Thank you.”

You say, smiling. 

“I’ll get them to call us a cab.”

He’s at the table for about five minutes while you wait by the door, anxious for what’s to come. 

“Sorry, mi tesoro, they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t leave early. But, I insisted on seeing you safely back to your house.”

“If you need to stay…”

You begin, but are quickly stopped.

“No, I’m going with you.”

You’re so flattered that he would leave the biggest company party of the year just for you. You.

The cab arrives shortly after and you two walk out into the warm Italian night air, hopping into the car. His hand rests gently on your thigh as the car pulls away from the curb. 

He sighs.

“I’m sorry that I got you involved in this. My life is...complicated, especially as someone constantly under the public eye.”

You don’t even want to ask this next question, but you have to.

“Maurizio, are you still engaged?”

His head turns away to look out the window.

“I’m not sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, you aren’t sure? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Patrizia left me last night and she hasn’t come back.”

He says, choking up a bit.

You gently put your hand over his and he looks over at you.

“I’m really sorry, that’s...terrible. Did she say why?”

“I told her that I was taking you tonight, and she got upset.”

He sighed. 

“She asked me if I had feelings for you, since I talk to her about you almost every day…”

“You talk about me?”

Maurizio smiles softly, nodding. “Of course I do. Ever since you’ve been here, the office has been...happier. I’ve been happier.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to freak out over what you’re hearing.

“S-So, when she asked you if you had feelings for me...what did you tell her?”

He turns fully to the side, bringing a hand up to cup your face.

“Le ho detto la verita, che mi sono sentito per te sin dal primo giorno in cui sei entrato in ufficio.” (I told her the truth, that I’ve felt for you since the first day you walked into the office.)

You can’t help but smile as your face warms again, eyes darting away from his as he continues.

“Sono un uomo migliore con te nella mia vita, tesoro.” (I’m a better man with you in my life, treasure.)

“Maurizio, I…”

You begin, trying to find the right words.

“Lo so che non dovrei, ma mi sento anche per te.” (I know I shouldn’t, but I feel for you, too.)

He smiles, leaning in closer.

“Qual e la ragione dell-amore senza rischi?” (What is the point of love without risk?)

This time, you close the gap between your lips. His other hand comes to hold your face as you kiss, so much passion and want in every movement of your lips together. 

You move closer, legs draping over his lap.

Just as you make a move to sit on his lap, the cab pulls up to your house, forcing you apart.

Both of you are panting softly, eyes staring deep into each other’s.

“Tesoro, ti prego, faccio l’amore stasera.” (Treasure, please, let me make love to you tonight.)

He leans in and crashes your lips together again, this kiss filled with urgency, with lust, with need.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Ti voglio. Ho bisogno di te, per favore.” (I want you. I need you, please.)

Maurizio smiles, paying the driver before quickly hopping out of the car, rushing around to let you out. As soon as you step out, you’re swept up off your feet and carried bridal-style to the front door. You unlock the door and he quickly closes it with his foot. 

You reach up and begin planting kisses on his neck, enjoying the way he sighs softly. 

“Which one is yours?”

He asks, breathily.

“Upstairs, the loft.”

He makes his way up the small flight of stairs. 

“Is anyone else here?”

You nod. “They’re all on the first floor.”

Maurizio hums, gently placing you down on the bed before shedding his suit coat, hanging it on your desk chair, followed by his tie. He takes off his loafers and socks, placing them beneath his other clothes.

You’d barely gotten your heels off at the point. He laughs when he turns around and sees you struggling to get the shoes off. He quickly pulls it off and tosses it on the floor, holding your foot while he kisses your ankle and calf. 

He takes a moment to look at you laid back on the bed, once neatly done hair loosened, makeup a bit smudged. His lips pulled up into a smile, teeth playfully scraping at your ankle bone. 

“You have too much on, mi tesoro.”

You smile, standing up and turning away from him, silently asking him to unbutton and unzip your dress. He steps up behind you, breaths hot on your neck as his fingers work the buttons. 

His lips begin planting kisses on your shoulders, soon undoing the zipper, freeing you from the dress. You step out and stand before him in just your underwear, looking away as his eyes rake over your figure. 

Your cheeks grow hotter when you look down to see the tent growing in his dress pants.

“Etereale.” (Ethereal.)

He mutters, fingers working the buttons of his shirt, gently tossing it with his other clothes before working at the buckle on his belt. 

“Formidabile.” (Gorgeous.)

The leather belt was soon tossed onto the growing pile of clothing. He unbuttons his pants before stepping forward again, now almost right up against you. 

His hand wraps around your wrist and brings your palm to the tent in his pants, growling softly when it touches. He leaned forward, lips at your ear.

“For you, tesoro. All for you.”

You shudder as his lips plant kisses all over your neck while his hands roam your bare body, fingers teasing your breasts.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He breathes, hands squeezing your breasts gently. 

“When was the last time someone touched you like this, hm?”

“It’s been a w-while.”

You say, gasping when his thumb rolls over your pebbled nipple. 

“O-Oh…”

Maurizio grins, placing one more kiss on your neck before standing up straight, tugging his pants and boxers down. You watch in amazement when his length bobs as it’s exposed, mouth watering at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you see something you like?”

“Absolutely.”

You reply, biting your lip. 

He laughs softly. 

“Well...would you like to touch it?”

His cheeks flush pink. 

You nod, reaching to wrap your hand around the base. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and he sucks in a breath when you begin stroking.

“Mmmmm, davvero buono.” (so good.)

His head falls back when you increase your pace, hips gently rutting forward. His eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead, small moans escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as his length stirs at the loss of contact.

“You are too good at that, mi tesoro.”

He bites his lip, fingertips teasing the lace waistband of your panties.

“May I touch you now?”

You nod, jumping softly when he all but tears the material down your legs, exposing your folds. He reaches down and cups your center, eyes widening when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh,”

He whispers, fingers tracing up to rub your clit.

“Tesoro...you’re so excited already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your hips suddenly buck forward out of instinct, and Maurizio chuckles breathily, rubbing a bit faster. You gasp, breath catching in your throat. 

“S-Shit.”

You allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure, head falling forward onto his chest. The small noises falling from your lips get increasingly louder as you draw closer and closer to release. 

His fingers suddenly push up into you, and you almost cum right on the spot. His digits feel so much better than yours as they begin plunging in and out, scissoring occasionally. 

“Lasciatemi prendere, tesoro, e ti acchiappero.” (Let go for me, treasure, and I will catch you.)

He whispers breathily, stroking faster. 

“Andiamo.” (Let go.)

His fingers curl up inside of you, and after a few rubs on your g-spot, you’re coming with a soft cry. 

“Maurizio...oh mio dio…” (Maurizio...oh my god…)

Your knees buckle and you begin to fall, but he catches you immediately, smiling down at you as his fingers continue to work you through your climax. He leans over to kiss you again, slowly and gently pulling his fingers out. 

“Lay back, mi tesoro, and open your legs.”

He whispers against your lips, standing back up straight as you sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back. 

You spread my legs, ready to receive him, and he smiles as he climbs on top of you. He’s still wearing his glasses, and while you find that humorous and quite frankly cute, it’s also incredibly arousing for some reason. You don’t dwell on it, wanting to focus on the moment unfolding before your eyes. 

Maurizio strokes his hardened length a few times, grunting softly, before rubbing himself across your folds. His eyes shut and he takes a shaky breath as your slick spreads across his cock. He starts pressing and rubbing the tip against your clit for a bit, smirking when your hips buck up against him.

He looks down at you, lining himself up with your entrance. 

“Are you ready? I’ll go slow for you, tesoro.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, growling softly. He shivers, stopping when he’s about halfway in.

“Is it still okay?”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hips forward while you scoot closer, pushing him in the rest of the way.

“D-Does that answer your question?”

You chuckle.

He laughs breathily, nodding. 

“Indeed, it does.”

You take deep breaths while you adjust to his size, soon nodding, letting him know that it’s okay for him to move. He pulls about halfway out before pushing back in again, exhaling loudly as he establishes a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts. 

“O-Oh, cazzo, sei fantastico.” (Oh, fuck, you feel amazing.)

Your jaw hangs open, body bouncing with each of his inward thrusts. You hold onto his biceps for dear life as his pace increases ever so slightly. 

“Maurizio,”

You breathe, looking up into his eyes. 

“Keep going, please.”

The bed squeaks as his hips’ movements grow more desperate. 

“Tesoro, I--cazzo--I’m not going to last.” (fuck)

He says, eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I h-haven’t done this--merda--in a w-while.” (shit)

You nod in understanding, moving your hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“It’s okay, M-Maurizio, it’s alright.”

His eyes meet yours as he growls softly, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s n-not. You deserve better, t-the best, Y/N.”

Your thumb swipes on his cheekbone as his eyes tear up with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

“Y-You already are the best, bello, and I w-want you to cum, no m-matter if I have o-or not. I want you to p-pleasure yourself, okay? Don’t worry about m-me.” (handsome)

He smiles softly, falling onto his elbows, lips connecting with yours as he thrusts get harder. He grunts deeply with each thrust, breath hot and heavy on the side of your neck.

“Oh tesoro, I’m...close. Where…”

He searches for the right words, mind clouded with lust. He groans in frustration.

“Dove vuoi che sborra?” (Where do you want me to cum?)

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. 

“Sono sulla pillola. Puoi sborra dentro, se vuoi, bello.” (I’m on the pill. You can cum inside, if you want, handsome.)

These words seem to awaken something in him, his eyes going black, hips suddenly rutting quickly and desperately into you. 

“Cazzo, sei incredibile, sei perfetto, tesoro.” (Fuck, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, treasure.)

Maurizio buries his face into the crook of your neck as he reaches climax, moans and gasps muffled by your skin. He buries his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls with his release, rutting them desperately as he fills you up.

“Y/N, oh dio, prendi tutto per me. Bene, sei bravissima, mi tesoro.” (Y/N, oh god, take it all for me. Good, you’re so good, my treasure).

As soon as he finishes, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in circles, eyes meeting yours.

“C’mon, let me pleasure you now. Let go, tesoro, give yourself to me.”

Your back arches and your hips grind against his fingers, mouth full of whimpers, whines, and gasps as his fingers rub you. You grab onto his bicep when you cum, looking up into his eyes. 

“Yes, oh Maurizio, yes!”

You gasp, moaning softly as your release spreads throughout your body.

He continues to rub you through it, cock twitching slightly where it still sits inside of you, causing him to growl softly. 

After both of you take a moment to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, and you can see that he’s already hard again. He blushes, looking away for a moment.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s never happened before…”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Maurizio, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually sort of flattering, that I can do that to you.”

He smiles softly, laying down next to you, pulling you back against him. You didn’t realize exactly how hard he actually was until you felt him pressed against your back, and you felt bad.

“Do you…I mean, I can...”

You trail off, a bit embarrassed, hoping he got the point.

Maurizio immediately shakes his head. 

“No, tesoro, don’t worry. I will be okay.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip before you speak.

“If you wanted to, you could...rub it against me.”

You feel his member twitch at your proposition, and you turn around in his arms, looking up at him. His cheeks are bright red.

“Will you show me?”

He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding. 

“All you have to do is start moving your hips against me, using my skin to rub on.”

He experimentally rolls his hips, jaw clenched as he tries to contain himself. 

“O-Oh.”

He tried it again, growling as his cock dragged along your stomach.

“Tesoro, it’s…”

You can’t pretend that this isn’t incredibly arousing for you to watch and feel. His tip was already red and leaking, so you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Does it feel good, Maurizio?”

You feel him nod, hips moving faster now as he looks down at you. 

“Yes, cristo, it’s s-so good.” (christ)

His lips crash onto yours and he loops an arm behind you, holding you still as he begins rutting against you, growling into your mouth. He moves his head down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“Your s-skin is so soft, mi tesoro.”

He whispers, grunting with each forward motion now. 

His leg lifts up and lays over your hip, allowing him to thrust harder, hand still on your lower back. He’s close, you can tell, and you attentively watch the way his face contorts as he reaches orgasm. 

He suddenly hugs you tight, a choked sob against your neck as his seed spills all over your stomach and his.

“Ah! Ah--oh--cristo!” (christ)

You run your hands through his hair soothingly as he comes down, trembling slightly. He slides down your body a bit, resting his head between your breasts, kissing them gently. 

After a short while, he looks up at you. 

“Grazie, Y/N, grazie mille.” (Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.)

You smile. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Maurizio, it was my pleasure.”

He reaches up and connects your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss before he pulls away, cringing when he feels the stickiness between you. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’ve never...that’s never…”

You kiss him again, cutting him off.

“No worries, we can just clean it off. I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

You stand and come back a moment later with a wet washcloth, reaching down to wipe yourself off before Maurizio’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you. 

“Let me.”

He smiles, taking the cloth from your hand, cleaning up the sticky substance before doing the same to himself. 

Your cheeks are warm as you look up at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, mi tesoro.”

He suddenly looks away, frowning softly. 

“I-I can’t stay tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry. If someone catches us…”

You shake your head, holding the side of his face.

“No, no need to explain. I understand.”

Maurizio nods silently, sighing as he begins to redress. You slip your panties back on, along with an oversized t-shirt and you pull your hair up into a ponytail. 

When he’s ready, you offer to go first, in case anyone’s still awake. He agrees, and you make your way down the stairs, looking around, not seeing anyone. You look up the stairs and nod, indicating that it’s okay. He makes his way down and you walk with him to the door. 

“Do you have a car coming?”

He nods. “My driver is already outside.”

There’s a moment of silence before Maurizio suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you against him as his lips crash down onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of longing. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down closer. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open. 

“Alla prossima, tesoro.” (Until next time, my treasure.)

You smile, biting your lip as he sneaks out the door, rushing down and hopping into the car waiting for him. 

As you watch his car pull away from the curb, only one thought occupies your mind:

Holy shit, I just slept with Maurizio Gucci.

[browniefox]

Little oneshot based on @the-east-art ‘s disco Elysium TMA au :)

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

You really really wish you could say something else, anything else. You’re not exactly being eloquent here, or doing a very good job at looking aloof and professional. However, you think that you can get away with it right now, because you are looking at something so incredibly precious in your hand that you can hardly believe it’s real. You feel you’ll wake up any moment now, and the photograph will be gone.

But no, every time you blink, it’s still there.

The Miracle looks back at you, Real and Good.

Harry has barely stopped grinning since you stepped back on the skiff. The sheer emotion from being near the Miracle - the Insulindian Phasmid - had almost overwhelmed you. Awe, and hope like you thought could never exist, never on this scale, never when the Pale was always lingering at the back of your mind.

You also think, well, the RCM will have to take back Harry now. You have to admit, at some point, you had started to worry about Harry and whether or not he would be allowed back into his precinct. His whole memory-loss situation is worrying, but it doesn’t seem to be aligned with any particular entity, or at least none that you could see traces of in the Whirling in Rags, nor in his room. He seems to be associated with the Eye, if anything, and the Eye would hardly want to take memories from someone. Maybe the fear of forgetting something could come of it, but Harry rarely seemed scared over the memory-loss, instead mostly soldiering through it to work on the case. That was more Spiral or Stranger terrain anyway.

On top of finding a Miracle, real and alive, you and Harry had also been able to find and successfully stop a Hunt Avatar. Killing him was a complicated matter, but for the time being you had managed to cut him off from his entity, and it seemed to keep him for the most part ‘dormant’ for the time being. And then there was the Swallow in the abandoned church and how the little scrap of the End had a strange hold over all of Martinaise.

In conclusion, there was a lot of good work done the past few days, and while there would still be much work ahead of you, it’s enough that you can let yourself sit back and bask in the picture of the Miracle for a bit and feel safe for once.

The skiff hits the dock softly, and Harry climbs out of the boat, grimacing at the pain in his leg. Getting shot by the mercenaries - all of them very Hunt-Desolation aligned people - only a couple days ago left Harry still in pain, but both of you had known you’d be unable to get anything done or rest easily without finishing the case first. Still, he holds out a hand to help you out of the skiff. You hardly need it, but accept it anyway, carefully putting the photograph back in your pocket.

Harry is… Harry is giving you something you would certainly call a sad smile.

“Detective, is everything alright?” you find yourself asking.

“Everything is fine. Just… have a funny feeling.”

You’re used to his funny feelings by now. You know it doesn’t mean something good, probably. You sort of wish you were also Eye-affiliated enough to get brief understandings and feelings like he does. However, even the Lonely’s mist on your shoulders is almost too much, so in truth, you would never want to add anything to hang over you.

Your hand finds your gun in your jacket.

You end up needing to pull it out when there are three more pointed at you and Harry.

“Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi, please put down your gun and carefully walk over here.”

The gruff voice of The Man No Longer In A Wig is gruff and heavily accented, and although he is talking to you, his eyes do not leave Harry. You do not move. You do look over at Harry, whose hands are raised in the air. He looks scared, you realize. Scared, but not surprised.

“Who are you?” You keep your gun raised. Of the three people present - two who you remember seeing in the Whirling and one you remember from the pier (Trant) - No Wig Man seems to be the leader. He is the one who is holding his gun with the steadiest grip. After him is Trant and after that is the woman. You recognize a rookie-officer when you see one, and you knew the two from the Whirling were cops already. Trant is a surprise, but you do not have time to be surprised right now. Right now, you need to know why they’re pointing their guns at you and harry.

No, not at you, just at Harry.

“Satellite-Office Jean Vicquermare, Patrol Officer Judit Minot, and Special Consultant Trant Heidelstam.” Vicquermare nods to Minot and Heidelstam in turn. Like you, his gun does not waver. “Lieutenant Kitsuragi, I’ll only say this one more time: step away from the Eye Avatar.”

“What?”

This time, your gun does falter, and your head snaps over to look at Harry. Harry hasn’t moved, with his hands still up in surrender.

“Harry?” You hate how small your voice sounds, but it’s really all you can do.

“I… I’m not…” His voice is always so rough sounding, and it’s worse now, like he's trying to past some black in his throat.

“He’s not an Avatar!” You spin back to Vicquemare with renewed strength. God you’re exhausted, but you’re not going to let this man shoot your partner. “He’s been shot - wounded by a gun!”

“You as well as I know not all Avatars are impervious to normal weapons. He got shot at the Tribunal, right? Those fuckers had enough Entity in them to hurt an Avatar.” Vicquermare has really thought about this already. How long has he been suspecting Harry to be an Avatar? Suddenly, his silly blonde wig and sunglasses in the Whirling in Rags are somewhat insidious as he watched you and Harry.

“Lieutenant, open your eyes, he’s-”

“Eye-aligned, just aligned!” you insist.

“Jean-” Harry starts to say something and takes a step forward.

“Stop right there, you fucker. Don’t you dare call me by name name with what’s left of shitkid’s body,” Jean growls. “My partner died days ago.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s regretful, or sad, or anything through the clear anger he has towards the entity.

Harry, it’s just Harry, not some strange entity.

“Lieutenant Kitsuragi, I understand how you must be feeling. After all, when I first say the Avatar, I thought it was just Harry too. But think about everything you’ve seen him do, how he acts. You’re a good officer, I’ve heard tales of you all the way in the 41st. You know what an Avatar does, how an Avatar acts. You know that this thing next to you isn’t human.” Heidelstam is calm and level-headed. He is clearly a man who is used to being the voice of reason. “You need to understand, Lieutenant; Harry Du Bois has been Eye-aligned for years now and only getting worse. It was really a matter of when, not if, he’d ever Become an Avatar.”

You remember the fear Ruby had when she saw Harry. You remember the questions he asks, never stops asking, always looking for information. You remember how harsh and forceful it could get, like when he’d been questioning Gary mercilessly until he had the information and armor that he’d wanted. Would Gary ever sleep well again after being fed off of from an Eye Avatar?

And the eyes. The eyes you always told yourself you didn’t see. But they were always there, weren’t they, when the questions became tense. Blinking into and out of existence, a weak Avatar still finding its legs and its powers. You had told yourself they were figments of your imagination, or shapes in the snow, but...

What was the true reason behind Harry’s memory loss?

“Oh, god, no.”

Next to you, Harry collapses to his knees on the old wooden boards. His hands are grabbing at his head. What is going through it is a mystery, but also… what if it isn’t? Suddenly, you know exactly what’s going through his head. Because it’s what has been going through yours, and while it upsets you it is ravaging him.

“Well, see ya shitkid.”

“Don’t!”

You lunge, as if you plan to catch the bullet out of the air. The gun in your own hand feel useless, essentially forgotten. You throw yourself forward, and something flutters out of your coat pocket and into the air on a sudden and strong gust of wind. The gunshot explodes over the small fishing village.

The air leaves your lungs in the vacuum left by the gunshot. The air is still as you fall next to Harry. You’re in one piece. Harry is also in one piece.

The photograph of the Miracle flutters down to land next to you, a hole just missing both figures in the photograph.

“Damn,” Vicquermare curses and cocks the hammer of his gun again.

“Wait!” You hold up a hand and snatch the photograph from the ground.

“Please, for your own safety, step away from the Avatar,” Minot cajoles.

“Kim,” Harry’s voice is sort and quiet, like it should never be. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No!” You shout at him, and you remain right in front of him, a terribly fleshy shield between a bullet and an Avatar. You hold up the photograph. “Maybe he is an Avatar! But that doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

“Yes, it does,” Vicquermare replied instantly.

“Not when the Avatar was able to touch a Miracle.”

“... what?”

Like wary street dogs, the three officers slowly walk closer to you, and you stand there like a statue, holding out the proof. You’re unsure if it’s going to work, if they’ll even understand what they’re looking at. Harry stays down, likely afraid that moving at all will end with another shot being fired.

“Remarkable,” Heidelstam breathes.

“No fucking way.” Jean snatched the photograph out of your hands, staring and staring and staring, like it will change or disappear if he looks at it long enough. Finally, he sighs and hands the photograph back to you. “Alright shitkid, looks like we’re not done with you just yet.”

[maeve-writes]

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter two rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Masterlist and Series Masterlist

Moving and finding an apartment can be an incredibly long and stressful process. Unless you’re you, and life likes to throw a lot of curve balls at you for the utter hell of it.

Your dad dropped dead three weeks after you told Andy you were moving to New York. Coincidentally, right in the middle of you trying to find a place to live. He drank himself to death. Figures. You doubted you’d ever had a conversation with him that he was sober enough to remember. His untimely demise was unfortunate for him, because he died or whatever, but very fortunate for you. As his only child, you got his apartment in Queens and all his smelly hoodies.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and Dani after a night out in the streets of San Francisco. You had originally moved there after high school to start your show, The L/n Report. San Francisco was known for its crimes against the homeless population and you wanted to start with a story on that. You ended up interviewing Andy at the police station while investigating a missing person, and dated him for two years. Now, you were spending your last few hours in San Francisco with the very boy you once loved and the very girl he now did.

“Are you all packed?” Dani asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Pretty much. I gotta put my toothbrush and hairbrush in my suitcase in the morning. Other than that, I’m good to go.” You answered her. She smiled fondly at you as she linked her arm through yours.

“Hey, I’m really gonna miss you. More than that guy over there.” You whispered, nodding towards Andy, who had his head buried in his phone. Dani laughed and nodded in agreement as you continued to walk.

“I’m going to miss you too. You’re my best friend here.” She sighed sadly.

“I’m glad we’re friends. Most women in our position would hate each other.” You thought out loud.

“Uh uh. You’re thinking of women in films. It’s 2021, baby. Women support women. You and I are two talented, smart, beautiful women who would never be caught fighting over some boy. Especially not one who can’t take his eyes off his phone for two seconds.” Dani said loudly and smacked Andy’s arm. You laughed at the domestic moment but couldn’t help feeling a pain in your heart knowing he used to be that way with you.

“What, sorry?” Andy looked up. You and Dani looked at him before looking at each other and laughing.

“What’s funny?” He asked, growing annoyed.

“We’re laughing at you babe. Put your phone away. It’s Y/N’s last night here.” Dani scolded playfully. Andy sighed and reluctantly put his phone in his pocket.

“Right, sorry. And it’s not her last night here. She’s coming back. You are coming back, right?” He asked you. You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure.

“Of course I’ll be back.” You shrugged. “I just want to experience something new for a while. I’ve done a million pieces on homelessness and poverty. I want to see what fresh stories New York has to offer.”

“You’re quoting the Daily Bugle, aren’t you?” Dani teased you.

“That is verbatim what they said to me.” You admitted with a laugh. “But hey, it worked. As of tomorrow, I’m the Daily Bugle’s newest investigative reporter.”

“Who are you reporting on anyway?” Andy showed a rare interest in your work.

“Some guy named Cletus Kasady.” You answered. “He’s some hot shot serial killer down in Queens. No one knows how he’s hiding his victims bodies. Apparently none have ever been close to being found.”

“And they want you to write the story on him?” Andy raised an eyebrow, always with the condescending tone.

“Well they heard about the whole Carlton Drake situation and decided I hadn’t been through enough trauma in my career.” You replied, earning a laugh from Dani but not Andy. You and Andy had already broken up by the time Carlton Drake contracted a symbiote and tried to kill you and Venom. You stopped him before he could hurt anyone and wrote a career defining article on his lethal human experiments. You managed to leave out all information regarding symbiotes from the article, so your secret was still safe. You were a fairly well known reporter since the incident and your next job was waiting for you in New York.

In the morning, You and Venom got on a plane and made your way to New York. Being on a plane with Venom turned out to be the equivalent to traveling with a toddler. You tried to sleep, but every two seconds you had to stop Venom from getting into trouble. She kept trying to open the window, even after you explained to her that everyone on the plane would die horrible death if the window were to open.

“Stop that.” You whispered when you noticed a black tendril creeping towards the window. The lady in the seat next to you shot me a look of confusion. You gave her a fake smile and turned back to the window, doing your best to conceal the small black tendril that was coming out of your body and fidgeting with the airplane window.

“We want it open.” Venom replied telepathically.

“Do you also want us to blow out of the plane and into space?” You said through my teeth.

“We didn’t anticipate that but it’d be appreciated.” Venom answered, making you groan. The rest of the plane ride followed in similar fashion.

Seven hours later, you arrived at the apartment building. You had never been to your dads apartment, you didn’t even know he had one. You wondered what happened to your childhood home as you looked around the place. The apartment wasn’t too small but not too big either. The rent was practically nothing compared to how expensive San Francisco was, and The Daily Bugle offered to cover your expenses until the story was done. You figured after some redecorating and moving in, it would make a fine new home.

The first seven days in the apartment went by smoothly. You unpacked, with little to no help from Venom, and set up the furniture. On the eight day, you sat on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels in the TV when you had a thought.

“Oh shit.” You said out loud.

“What?” Venom, who was curly nestled around your neck like a neck pillow, asked.

“I forgot mail exists.” You frowned. “We better go check the mailbox before it overflows.”

You and Venom grudgingly walked to the mailboxes and back again. No one was around, so she manifested herself and rested on your shoulder as I looked through the mail.

“Oops. I grabbed someone else’s mail too.” You clicked your tongue when you read a strangers name off the envelope. “I gotta find them.”

“Let’s go.” Venom said and pulled you towards the front door.

“Sorry, babe. This is a me thing, not a we thing. You know I love you but I don’t want to scare our neighbors. Not yet anyway.” You reasoned. Venom grumbled and went back inside your body.

You checked the address of the envelope and discovered that it belonged to the apartment directly across from you.

You knocked on the door and patiently waited for someone to open it as you mindlessly cracked your knuckles. Just as you were about to walk away, the door opened.

“Hi, are you May Parker?” You asked right away. You looked up from the envelope and your face instantly flushed. The person staring back at you definitely wasn’t May Parker. It was a boy around your age, maybe a little younger. He had soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair. It was gelled back loosely and you could see the outline of soft curls. To your surprise, he was just as flushed as you were. You stared at each other for a moment, no one wanting to be the first to blink.

“Yea. I’m May Parker.” The boy said finally. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and shook his head.

“I mean, no I’m not. But that’s my Aunt. May is my Aunt but I’m not May. That’s my Aunt May. I’m her nephew…obviously. Aunt May is my Aunt May. I…what?” He stumbled over his words and somehow turned even redder. His blush reached all the way down his neck, to his blue jumper that read “Midtown Tech” in yellow letters. You recognized the name of one of the most prestigious high schools in New York, already impressed with your new neighbor.

“Well hello, not May Parker. I’m also not May Parker. But I seemed to forget that when I grabbed your mail this morning. Sorry about that.” You said sheepishly as you handed his mail to him. The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at it and attempted to redeem himself.

“It’s not problem. She and I always forget to check the mail so you actually helped us, um, whoever you are.” He smiled weakly. His voice was cute. He had that Queens accent that the people of San Francisco lacked, for obvious reasons.

“Oh, right.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I’m Y/N L/N. I just moved here from San Francisco. I live across the hall.”

You pointed to the door behind you as if he didn’t know what “across the hall” meant. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were never this awkward.

His eyes lit up a bit once you told him where you lived.

“Really? I thought that smelly guy lived there.” The boy said and you stifled a laugh.

“That smelly guy was my father. He died a little while ago so I live there now.” You told him, malign the boys eyes widen. They were so brown. Like little pools of honey. Or little pools of the Hudson River. You had seen a million pairs of brown eyes before, but none like his. They were quite distracting to be honest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I had. I had no idea-“ he began to frantically apologize but you cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it. We never got along. And you’re right, that man stank.” You chuckled. It was the first thing you said that felt like your old self. You hadn’t really talked to anyone since moving to New York, with the exception of Venom and the occasional phone call from Andy or Dani. You liked talking to this boy, though you still had no idea who he was.

“Oh thank God. I thought I screwed this up before it even went anywhere.” He immediately turned red when he heard his own words. You saw the regret in his eyes and decided to throw him a bone.

“Well it certainly can’t go anywhere until you tell me your name.” You flirted. Again, he relaxed. You felt a surge of confidence knowing he wanted this to go well.

“Parker. I’m Parker Peter. I mean, Peter Parker.” He fumbled over his words again, making you smile fondly.

“We like him. He’s cute.” Venom said telepathically. You looked down at my shoes and blushed, knowing you liked him too.

“And he looks delicious.” She added, ruining the moment.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter Parker.” You gave him your best smile. “I’m glad there’s someone my age around here. Everyone I’ve met so far is either an old bitty or a creepy uncle type.” You regretted it as soon as it left your mouth. You didn’t know what his sense of humor was like and he might not find you the slightest but funny. Andy always told you you were bad at telling jokes, and you feared he might be right.

Lucky for you, Peter burst out laughing.

“Ah. I’ve seen you’ve met Henry.” Peter pointed a finger down the hall. “Yeah, I’d stay away from him. He asked me if he could have pictures of my feet once. He said he’d “pay me handsomely” for it too.”

“Damn. So he beat me to asking you.” You pretended to be upset, which made Peter laugh again. The sound of his laugh made your heart pick up speed. You weren’t used to feeling like this. Boys rarely impressed you, Andy was just lucky you liked a man in uniform.

“Yeah. You better stay away from him.” Peter advised.

“It might be hard.” You clicked your tongue. “Our mailboxes are pretty close. I’ll make a mental note to never check my mail while wearing flip flops, though.”

Peter smiled at your joke. He had the kind of smile that you would make the person laugh just to see it again. It was brilliant.

“Well my mailbox should be directly above yours. So don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He grinned, and you grinned back.

“My hero.” You gushed as you put your hands over your heart. The tips of his ears went pink, like he was shocked that you said that.

“I’m no hero.” He sounded almost panicked, like you touched a nerve or something.

“We’re hungry. We need to eat.” Venom interrupted abruptly, causing you to jump. Since Peter couldn’t hear her, he looked at you strangely, not knowing the cause of your sudden jolt.

“Sorry, I uh, I thought I saw a spider.” You lied.

“If there was a spider, we’d eat it. We need food. Now.” Venom demanded.

Peter looked up at his doorframe for the imaginary spider.

“Yeah, New York is full of them.” Peter said skeptically. “Not that full, though. And some spiders are nice. One might even call them friendly.”

“Right.” You laughed at his strange wording, unaware that you were both keeping a secret.

“Would…” Peter began but trailed off, seemingly mulling something over in his head. “Would you like to eat dinner with my Aunt and I? I remember when we first moved in, it took us a while to get into the swing of things and make dinner every night. If you like, you could join us. And, you know, we could get to know each other.” He offered. It all came out in one breath. You could tell he was nervous and that only drew you in more.

“I’d love to Peter.” You said, and he smiled in relief.

“Great.” He gave an awkward thumbs up. “We usually eat around six so maybe come around then? She’ll be so happy to meet you. She loves cooking and she always tries to get me to learn but I once burnt cereal and I still don’t know how.” Peter began to ramble. He cut himself off and shook his head again. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

Then, you did something stupid. You put your hand on his arm like the dumb bitch you were. You barely knew this guy. Who the hell were you to touch him? He must’ve been thinking the same thing, since he instantly froze under your touch and stared at your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. I can’t cook either. Unless you count making tater tots as cooking. Then I’m Gordon Ramsey.” You assured him, feeling him relax under your touch.

“You’re just gonna mention tater tots without warning us first? Our mouth is watering. Can we eat Peter?” Venom asked, making your eyes widen.

If it was socially acceptable to scream at your symbiote in public, you would’ve yelled “NO, WE CANNOT EAT PETER” from the top of your lungs. But since you didn’t want to scare Peter and the rest of the neighbors away, you merely smiled and made another mental note to smack the shit out of Venom later.

“I love that man. “Where is the lamb sauce?” Peter mimicked in a bad British accent. He had no right being as charming as he was.

“No no no.” You shook your head. “His best line is “I’ll get you more pumpkin and I’ll ram it right up your ass. Would you like it whole or diced?”. He’s said some pretty wild things but that one makes me cry.”

Peters laugh rang through the halls. To be the cause of that laugh was a feeling like no other. You stood there for a while, just looking at each other. His eyes grazed down your body, but not in a crude way. You berated yourself for not dressing better when going to meet the neighbors, clad in nothing but a grey hoodie and some leggings. Peter looked cute, but you had a feeling he always did. His jumper was pretty baggy and you could see a collared shirt poking out the top. He was dressed almost professionally and you found it incredibly endearing.

You wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know his secrets and his hobbies and what makes him itch. You wanted to see if he dresses this way on weekends too or what his summer clothes looked like. Your gawking was interrupted by Peters phone ringing. He broke out of his trance and answered it quickly.

“Hi, Mr. S. No I’m not busy. I mean, I’m super busy but I can totally make time for you. Yea, Happy talked to me. Okay. Okay. Where? Okay. See you in a bit.” Peter hung up and looked at you apologetically.

“That was my job. I have to run but I’ll be back in time for our dinner. I live at…you know where I live. I’ll see you then. Don’t be late.” Peter called as he ran down the hallway, towards the elevator.

“I won’t. See you later.” You called back.

You went back to your apartment and like a kid, broke out into a happy dance.

“Venom!! Did you see how cute he was?” You gushed. “And how funny he is? I have to get ready for tonight.”

Venom manifested and swirled around my arm.

“Someone has a crush.” Venom smirked. Well, as much of a smirk as she could muster with that huge mouth of hers.

“I don’t have a crush. I just think he’s cute okay?” You replied coyly. “Cute. And funny and sweet and charming and amazing. But that’s it.”

“We can feel your heart beat.” Venom reminded you. “It was going ten miles an hour. What would Andy say?”

You had been rummaging through your closet and stopped in your tracks. With Peters new inhabitance in your mind, you had forgotten all about Andy. You moved to New York to avoid his wedding and his moving on, and you might’ve succeeded.

“I don’t care what he’d say.” You decided. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But we want him to be.” Venom insisted. “We want him back, remember?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You answered honestly. “I just want to get ready for tonight.”

“Why are you getting ready now? You have 5 hours until you have to be there and it’s right across the hall.” Venom teased.

“Only 5 hours?” You sighed. “We better get moving.”

[lumosinlove]

It’s the Olympic break and the boys are taking a little vacation. Leo gets a spicy present in the morning, and then it’s Finn’s planned Leo-day around NYC, plus a promise from Logan.

Happy 20th birthday, Knutty!

Leo was sure that he always had some sort of checklist running in his head. He liked waking up and going through the day before it happened.

Leo woke up in Finn’s childhood bedroom on his twentieth birthday. There was the smell of coffee coming from just down the hall, and New York City was getting a fine dusting of snow outside. Most of the time, Leo was the first one awake—not to mention a few times in the middle of the night. He liked laying there with his eyes closed and listening to Finn and Logan breathing. Finn had rolled away in the night, but Logan was plastered against his side, breath warm against his neck.

“You’re awake?” Leo whispered softly to him.

“Because you’re awake,” Logan replied, accent heavy with sleep.

That was another thing. Logan seemed to have a sense for Leo’s irregular sleeping habits.

“How’d you know?”

Logan pressed a gentle kiss to Leo’s neck. “How’d you know?”

That made Leo smile a little. “Your breathing.”

“Mhm,” Logan said, and hooked his thigh higher across Leo’s hips. Leo reached down to drum his fingers lightly over the muscle.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan murmured the phrase into a kiss against Leo’s mouth this time.

“Thanks,” Leo smiled.

Finn made a noise in his sleep, and Leo felt them both turn to look at his bare back, but he didn’t stir any more.

Logan sighed, pressing closer to Leo’s chest.

“Where should we go for breakfast?” Leo whispered. “I was doing some research.”

Logan’s laugh was his soft morning one. “Of course you were.”

“I’m just thinking,” Leo said. “Hey, did you see the snow outside?”

Logan’s palm had started trailing warmly down his chest about half way through Leo’s thought process, and it was resting low on his stomach now.

“Oh?” Leo asked softly, his previous next words dying in his throat at Logan’s touch.

“Settle down, Peanut,” Logan whispered into the skin. “It’s your birthday.”

Then, he was disappearing beneath the blankets.

“Lo,” Leo let his eyes slip closed, a soft smile on his face.

Logan began to kiss his thighs first, tugging Leo’s underwear off and away. Leo bent his knees to help, trying not to kick Logan where he couldn’t see. Logan just used it as an opportunity to wrap his arms around them, pulling them close around his shoulders. Leo could feel the soft tickle of his hair as Logan’s mouth trailed along. He could feel himself filling quickly and settled into it, head dropping back on the pillows. He couldn’t see Logan, and so each touch was a surprise. It amplified the feeling, the sudden jolt of Logan’s lips brushing the head of his dick, just beginning to peak out of his foreskin.

Leo could hear his own breathing getting louder, too, and looked up to make sure the door was closed. Finn’s family was out there. He reached beneath the blankets to tangle his fingers into Logan’s hair, running a thumb along his temple. He heard Logan hum at the contact, and then felt his hot tongue dip around the tip of his dick, gathering the wetness dewing there. Leo pressed his calves into Logan’s sides.

The checklist was going askew. There was just Logan, and Finn’s stirring weight beside them. Seeming to have sensed their motion, Finn turned onto his back, cracking an eye open to glance at the blankets tented by Leo’s knees, and the absence of Logan from the other pillow.

“Huh,” Finn said as he squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his entire body. Leo laughed breathlessly when he heard a few loud pops in his back. Finn blinked his eyes open when he was done and smiled, rolling onto his side towards Leo. “Nice.”

Leo just parted his lips a little for Finn’s gentle kiss.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” Finn said softly into Leo’s mouth.

“Very,” Leo sighed. “Very happy.”

“Morning, Tremblay,” Finn said, peaking beneath the blankets and laughing as he reached to run a hand through Logan’s hair. “Hi.”

Logan just kissed Finn’s palm before returning his attention to Leo.

Finn drew the blankets back, hand still in Logan’s hair, and leaned in to kiss Leo again. “I have so many plans for us today. I’m gonna take you to the best spots, you’re going to love it so much. A Knutty-curated day.”

Leo looked down to see Logan mouthing at his hip bone. “This seems like a good start, then.”

Logan’s mouth became a warm heat around him as Finn kissed him leisurely. Finn’s hand cupped where Logan couldn’t reach. Leo loved this. The weight of sleep still lingering, making everything sharper. Finn kept saying soft I love yous, which Logan echoed in low hums that made him twitch. They brought him off slow and easy, Finn kisses growing more sloppy, the way he knew Leo liked, as he arched into Logan’s mouth.

Leo smiled, breathing hard as Finn bit gently at his bottom lip.

Logan pushed his way up his chest, pressing a kiss just above his collar bone. His hair was a mess from sleeping and the static and heat that being beneath the blankets brought. His cheeks were flushed and he was hard in his underwear, like Finn.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan laughed, and kissed Leo’s cheek.

“Well, yeah,” Leo wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist. “Fuck, Lo.”

Finn ran his hand through Leo’s hair and cocked an eyebrow in question. “Anything you want.”

Leo stretched, sleepy again and sated beneath Logan’s weight. “Just let me see you two. But don’t go too far away,” He pulled them closer towards each of his sides.

Logan hummed and tucked his face up against Leo’s neck as he pushed his underwear down below his balls and took himself in hand.

Finn nudged his nose against Leo’s cheek, following Logan’s lead and pressing up all along Leo’s other side. Leo pushed Finn’s underwear aside so he could press his cock against the soft skin of Leo’s hip, Leo’s other hand combing through Logan’s hair. He smiled, eyes hooded as Logan panted into his neck. They were hot against him, their thighs brushing together, hooked across Leo’s hips.

“Love you,” Leo said, and was answered by a kiss to his neck and a nip to his jaw.

Logan spilled first, and Finn followed, tensing and his breath stuttering like it always did. Logan buried his noises in Leo’s skin.

“Fuck,” Leo breathed as he watched the white paint his skin.

Finn moaned lowly and pressed a burst off kisses to Leo’s cheek, making him smile.

“Leo,” Logan said, but it sounded like he was just sighing his name. He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at Leo and Finn, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, good morning.”

Finn threw the tissue he had used to clean them up in the direction of the garbage and laughed. “I have so much planned for today.”

Logan huffed back onto Leo’s chest. “Can we have coffee first?”

“Oh,” Finn said. “Can we ever,” and then threw himself on top of Logan, Leo laughing beneath their weight.

“You boys gonna watch USA against Canada today at three?” Haley O’Hara asked as she sipped her coffee and watched them put their coats on. “Pretty good game to have on your birthday.”

“We can’t miss Alex,” Leo said. “And Kasey, with their Olympics debuts.”

“But we have plans first,” Finn said. “We’re going to my favorite place. Which will be Leo’s favorite place.”

“Ah,” Haley smiled. “I know where that is. Have fun, Leo.”

Leo smiled. “I’m sure I will.”

“Where are we going for breakfast?” Logan asked.

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Finn said, pulling Logan’s hat down over his eyes. “Man, you without your coffee…”

Leo laughed. “Yeah, Harz, and I thought you were bad.” He righted Logan’s hat for him, and kissed him softly.

Haley was smiling at him when he looked up. “You boys have fun. And Happy Birthday again, Leo.”

New York was cold, but Leo didn’t mind. They huddled together as they walked, Logan jokingly running every once in a while as if to keep up with Leo. Finn took them to a bakery with tall, heavy doors, but hustled them to a table without letting them look at what was offered too much.

Logan leaned back in his chair and hooked his ankles around Leo’s beneath the table while they waited.

“You’re—très beau.”

Leo rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning his chin in his hand and looking at the way Logan’s white beanie made his eyes brighter. If anyone was beautiful…

Logan mirrored his position, smile teasing. “Maybe I’ll take you to Nice this summer. No one knows us there. I’ll give you the best wine, and we can swim in the sea, and I’ll watch you read your books with our feet in the sand.”

Leo tilted his head, listening and loving.

Logan smiled, like he could tell. “And we’ll walk through all the markets…”

Leo nodded. “I want that. But not because it’s my birthday. Just because I want to be there with you.”

Logan was perfect in the snow, but Leo was dying to see him in a small, French village.

“Love you,” Logan said softly.

“Love you, sweetheart. Do you know what he’s up to?” Leo flit his eyes to Finn, who looked like he was charming the socks off of the girl and boy working the register. Something smelled incredible, like chocolate and bread.

“Not a clue,” Logan said, then laughed. “He hasn’t trusted me with secret plans since I told you I loved you first.”

Leo snorted. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“I do know this place, though,” Logan smiled. “And I think I can guess what he’s bringing you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s as sweet-tooth as Harz gets.”

“Here we go,” Finn said, announcing himself. He was carrying a tray with three steaming cups on it, and three frankly giant croissants. “Okay, okay, now listen up, Lovernut.”

Leo put his arm along the back of their booth, behind Finn as he sat down. It was a gesture he’d learned quickly that he could do, even in a crowded place. “I’m listening.”

“This, darling—”

“You're so dramatic,” Logan shook his head.

“—is a pretzel croissant.”

Leo tilted his head. “What makes it pretzel?”

“Now,” Finn placed it carefully in front of Leo. “Get any visions of those big vendor pretzels out of your head. This is like—God compared to those.”

Leo and Logan glanced at each other, hiding smiles. It was as if they could just trade the one, single thought they were both thinking. We love him.

“Uh-huh, Harz,” Leo laughed. “And is that hot chocolate?”

“This is the thickest chocolate you’re ever going to have, and floating inside,” Finn slid the large cup beside the croissant. “You will find the worlds largest homemade marshmallow.”

“Why does it sound like you’re selling a car?” Logan laughed.

“It needs a speech,” Finn smiled. His cheeks were still red from the cold. “All right, most important part.”

It did smell amazing. “Yeah?”

Finn took his own croissant. “Rip,” he ripped it, “dip,” he dipped the croissant into the hot chocolate. “And…nothing rhymes, I don’t know, but it’s so good.”

Leo let his hand brush Finn’s neck as he retrieved it to take his own croissant in hand. “Lo? Is it?”

Logan, who had already torn a big piece and soaked in in chocolate, shrugged, then smiled. “Could be sweeter.”

They walked just a few blocks until Leo laughed when he recognized a large, red awning from one of Finn’s many sweatshirts.

“The Strand,” Leo smiled. “You’re always talking about this place. Aw, Harz.”

“You fucking bet I am,” Finn said. “Come on.”

They walked through the shelves slowly, starting downstairs in the fiction and history sections. Logan trailed behind, occasionally taking pictures of the two of them and smiling at his phone for a moment.

In one of the deserted, narrow rows, Finn pressed Leo carefully against a bookshelf and kissed him soundly.

“Hey, hey,” Leo heard Logan say, and pulled Leo down for one of his own.

Logan held up his phone to show a picture of Leo and Finn standing over a book with their heads tilted together. “I’m never going to be able to stop looking at this one.”

“Send it to me, Lo,” Finn said, and took the pile of books in Leo’s hands. “Come on. Let me buy you those, and then let’s go home, get warm, and watch the game. Sound okay? And I have a dinner plan for us tonight.”

Leo, honestly, felt a little choked up at just the perfect thought, and nodded quickly. “Yes. Yeah, perfect.”

The hot chocolate had good. The window shopping, too, and the books, and the pastries. But this, Finn’s chest against his back, Logan’s back against Leo’s chest while they shouted at the TV. This was all Leo wanted for his birthday.

[heavenbarnes]

I’m a rude bitch, what are you made of?

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, canon-typical arguing, unhealthy husband-wife relationship, cheating, top!naomi and bottom!reader, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, inappropriate relationship with employers, unsolicited flirting, flashing, implied exhibitionism

Word Count: 3,225

so what if you were the belfort’s house keeper? and what if you had this nasty crush on naomi? and what if she knew?

“Find what you’re looking for up her skirt, Jordan?” The sharp cut of that Brooklyn accent was quick to hit you.

It was quick to hit her husband too, judging by the deep sigh he let out from behind you. You straightened up, grabbing the remaining dishes from the table with one hand, the other tugging the hem of your dress down.

“Don’t fix yourself like it’s your fault, darling,” There was an almost melody to her voice. “Seems someone never learnt his fucking lesson.”

With that, it all kicked off. You walked towards the kitchen with your stack of dishes and cheeks burning hot, as your employers quite literally screamed at one another. Another morning in paradise.

Working for the Belfort’s, for the most part was a dream, you cleaned an exquisite house and looked after one very low maintenance baby. For that, they paid you generously and even took you on their family vacations. 

All you had to put up with was the incessant screaming and Mr. Belfort trying to sneak a look and a feel, all worth it for the luxury you got to be a part of.

You zoned back into the fight as you walked back over to wipe down the table, still without uttering a word during all the commotion. This was like a morning ritual, as normal as a coffee and codeine, they weren’t awake till they’d screamed bloody-murderer at one another.

“For the last time, my love! I wasn’t looking up her fucking skirt!” Jordan gestured towards you frantically, stepping around behind you.

He was about to make another point, and as he opened his mouth to do so, his hands also came to grip your upper arms. You saw something change within Mrs. Belfort’s eyes and you even braced for impact.

“You get your hands off of her or I swear to God, Jordan!” She slammed her coffee cup down, the dark liquid rising up the side of the cup like an impending tsunami.

Mr. Belfort was quick to drop his hands, stepping back from you and watching his wife round the table until she was in front of you both. You felt caught in the middle, figuratively and literally thanks to the way they’d sandwiched you between them.

“You better watch yourself, motherfucker,” Her accent seemed to thicken as her voiced dropped an octave. “Before I bend this one over the table and make you watch the things I can do to her.”

You felt your body run red hot, the image of her living up to her threat moving clear through your mind. Without being able to stop yourself, your knees buckled slightly, most certainly not going unnoticed by Naomi. Her gaze drifted to you, where you were staring straight ahead and doing your best to seem unaffected by her words.

She saw right through you.

In kindness on her part, she didn’t mention it. Rather she dismissed you to carry on with your other morning duties, but didn’t ignore the way you shuffled off with your legs nearly clamped together. You hurried from room to room, collecting the hampers of dirty laundry so you could hide in the wash-house and out of trouble.

Shutting the door and leaning your back against the tiles, you were thankful it was able to cool you down a bit. It was in that moment you realized just how fucked you were, like a Duchess should, she had you royally fucked.

From the moment you started working for them, you knew you were going to have the hardest time keeping your thoughts about Naomi contained. Just the way that she walked with that air of importance was enough to have your thighs tensing.

It was obvious she knew what she was doing to you, that smirk that would prick up at the corner of her mouth every time she saw your eyes widen or your head drop. She took great delight at watching you squirm for her.

You’d nearly lost at all one night at dinner when you felt the patent leather toe of a stiletto dragging up the inside of your leg. The grip around your fork got so tight, you had little marks along your fingers for hours.

Naomi, on the other hand, dropped her fork right up the table and shook her head in faux-annoyance.

“I’m such a klutz, would you mind being a good girl and grabbing that for me?”

You swallowed harshly but nodded your head nonetheless, pushing back your chair and climbing under the table to retrieve the fork. Finding it quickly, you lifted your head to come back up but were stopped in your tracks by a single sight.

Naomi slowly parted her thighs, revealing to you that she had forgone underwear for her evening meal, and was most certainly baring her most intimate parts to you.

You thought you’d choke on your tongue, scrambling back towards your seat as you came up for air. She had a knowing smirk painted across her face as you extended it towards her with a shaking hand.

“You alright?” Jordan asked, giving you a worried glance. “You’ve barely said a word and now you look like you’ve had a fright?”

Mrs. Belfort hummed in agreement with her husband, bringing her napkin up to dab at her mouth.

“Yeah, what’s the matter?” She cooed, eyes holding yours still. “Pussy got your tongue?”

Rifling through the washing baskets, you sorted them out for laundering, anything to take your mind away from what you knew you shouldn’t be doing. Not only was she your boss, she was married, and married to an incredibly powerful man at that. 

You knew in your heart that if you’d let him, he’d be just as unfaithful to her with you, as she would with roles reversed. But you just knew it’d create more trouble than good, even if that good was a long-legged blonde with a mouth on her that drove you doggone wild.

Just as the act of loading a washing machine was doing it’s trick, your fingers hooked around one garment that you really didn’t need to stumble across. You drew your hand back to find a red lacy pair of panties draped over the tip of your finger. It nearly had you light headed at the start.

Drawing them closer towards you, gingerly you looked over your shoulder just to confirm that you were alone in the laundry. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest in fear of being caught, but this was just something you couldn’t stop.

Bringing the seat of her knickers to your face, you took in a deep breath and were immediately overwhelmed with the scent of her cunt. She smelt just as heavenly as you’d imagined she would, those nights after her husband drove you home and you’d raced inside to finger yourself to the thought of his wife.

It was all so bad, so wrong and so impure, nothing of what you were doing was close to being right. But when it came to Naomi, you were about ready to risk it all just for the sake of having one little chance with her. All it took was that one change, after that all bets were off. That change came in the form of her calling your name.

To say it startled you was an understatement, you were lucky you didn’t scream. Dropping the panties immediately back into the basket, you followed the sound right up the stairs and into Mr. and Mrs. Belfort’s bedroom, where Naomi sat waiting for you.

She was still in her robe, the one she wore to breakfast and the one you knew hid from your view the very skimpy lingerie she was wearing beneath it. Just knowing it was so close but still out of your reach had your mouth beginning to salavate.

Extended one finger towards you, she began to beckon you over. “Can you come here please?”

Never wanting to disappoint, you moved your feet towards her and subsequently towards her bed. Nothing sweet and right could come from being alone in her bedroom, with her wearing the bare minimum in front of you. You knew you had self control, but that much? That was asking for a miracle.

As you got closer, she stood up slowly, fingers moving to the tie on her robe. Suddenly it seemed as if time had slowed down for a moment, you could see her undoing the ribbon on her hip but there was nothing you could, or wanted, to do to stop her.

The silk of her robe slid off her shoulders and pooled on the carpet before you, leaving her in nothing more than a very thin set of bra and panties. You could see the way her nipples poked against the fabric, where the underwear had began to draw up on her hips. 

You wouldn’t be leaving this room with pride.

Reaching out, her fingers wrapped around your elbow and pulled you in until you were flush against her. The heat radiating off of her was intoxicating, you were enveloped in the very essence of her, it was soaking into your clothes and staying on the air.

“You need to tell me, baby,” Her voice wrapped you up, binding you to her. “Are you going to let me have my fun with you?”

Quick to please, your doe eyes rose to her gaze and silently apologized for something you’d never done.

“B-before with Mr. Belfort, I’m sorry but I assure you there is nothing there.”

Naomi cut off your stuttering attempts at explaining yourself with a curt laugh, free hand coming and stroking at the edge of your face. Soft skin and long fingers leaving shivers in their wake.

“Honey, forget about making my husband pay for before,” The soothing lilt to her voice was once again doing its best to weaken you at the knees. “This is just my own little treat.”

Your mouth dried up, tongue suddenly too big for the space and your lips dropped open in a pathetic whimper. As much as the embarrassment was hot on your heels, you could tell from her expression that this was doing nothing but pleasing Mrs. Belfort.

“Let me hear you say it.” She cooed, lips coming up to the shell of your ear.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you can fuck me, Mrs. Belfort.”

She released a theatrical gasp before closing her the edge of her teeth around your earlobe, pulling down gently. Her lips trailed down the length of your neck, the softest kisses being left behind in her wake.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you, girl,” She sighed into your skin. “We better put it to good use.”

Bringing her hands to the bottom of your dress, she was taking full control as she drew it up and over your head. Her fingers immediately went for your undergarments, stripping you down to you were completely exposed in front of her.

Stepping behind you, her hands ran across your body and left no inch of you untouched by her. You had an idea of what she was intending, it wasn’t an accident that this felt entirely like she was claiming you.

“You’re so beautiful, I don’t blame my husband for the way he looks at you.” 

Her nose nudged against the back of your neck, hands running up to roll your breasts around her palms. Fingers tweaking at your nipples, you relaxed back against her and allowed the feeling of pleasure to take over.

“If only he knew that he wasn’t the one you were ready to risk it all for, hmm?”

You choked back a moan that was so desperately clawing its way out of your throat, especially with the way her hands were running down your stomach and getting dangerously close to where you needed her. She hovered above your mound, so close but not quite yet.

“Tell me, who is it that you want to fuck you?”

Along with another moan, you swallowed down your pride, hand shooting back and gripping the soft skin of her thigh.

“You, Naomi, I want you to fuck me and not Jordan.”

A delicious giggle flew around your ears, searing itself into your brain for safe keeping. It didn’t matter what noise she was making, it was set to drive you fucking wild. This moment was no exception to the rule, it wrote the damn rule.

Her hand came down against your mound, fingers slipping between your thighs as she cupped your heat. The feeling of her palm pressed against your aching clit drew an unabashed moan from deep within your chest, only spurring her on to rub it in the smallest circles.

She drew back from you just as quick as she touched you. Too overwhelmed to move, you listened to the sounds of her stripping the rest of her clothes, coming to sit before you on the bed. Naomi shuffled back, hands out behind her to keep her propped up.

“Before I give you what you want, I think you need to earn it.” With her words, she slowly spread her thighs until her cunt was once again on display to you.

Instinctively you dropped to your knees, moving towards the edge of the bed until she was only moments from you. Her hand came out to gently rub across the top of your head, coming around the back and pulling you even further into the meeting of her thighs.

Naomi pressed your face right to her dripping heat, your tongue coming out to catch her clit as she did. She tasted like bliss, like she was laced with gold flakes, this would be a taste you never tired from.

A long groan left her lips, head tipping back as you moved your mouth deftly against her pussy. She held you there, reminding you of the control she had over you as her hips started to roll against your face.

You brought your hands to wrap around her thighs, getting as close as you could. The messy sounds and sight of you must’ve been incredible, the way you hungrily lapped at her cunt and buried your face even further into her.

A symphony of moans serenaded the room, her toes curling against the bed as your lips wrapped around your clit. Had she known her little house-keeper was going to be this fucking good with her mouth, she would’ve had you on these silk sheets months ago.

Naomi’s elbow buckled under the pressure of your mouth, combined with the quiet moans that were reverberating against her. She gripped tighter onto you, pulling you in close as she was essentially riding your face.

Letting her do whatever she wanted, you moved your tongue quicker and fell in love with the way she cried your name in pleasure. It’d never sound the same coming from her, not now you know the way it sounds when you’ve got her pussy on your mouth.

Gripping hard onto you, you felt the rush of wetness as Naomi unraveled on your tongue, one leg coming to wrap around your shoulder as she did so. You remained in that same place, destined to do as you were told whilst you took her through her high.

When the sensitivity became too much, she drew you back before pulling you up towards her. Laying against her, you felt her lips connect with yours as she kissed her taste from your mouth. Moaning against your lips, you snaked your hands around her waist in an attempt to cover any inch of her skin you could.

Feeling one of her hands moving against you, it became very clear to you that she was on a direct path to where you were quite literally dripping for her. Naomi ran her fingers along your slit, dipping in to rub against your clit before coming to rest at your entrance.

With her tongue finding purchase in your mouth, she slipped two fingers inside of you and quickly curled them up. You couldn’t help but squeal into her mouth, gripping onto her sides as her fingers began to move with you.

Clenching around her, it’d never felt nearly this good when all you could do was think of her. You never knew it was going to feel like heaven on earth once she finally got her hands on you. The incoherent cries and moans of her name were flooding the room, sure to drift under the doors and fill the house in short time.

“I��m sure this is better than touching your little pussy and thinking of me, huh?”

Your eyes shot open in fright, looking to her with the complete knowing of being caught, painted across your face. She just grinned at you, that kind of cruel grin that said “you’re in for it now.”

“You think I couldn’t hear you, moaning my name when you’ve locked yourself in the bathroom?”

All the times you’d quickly tried to get yourself off to make your work day more bearable, suddenly flashed past your mind. You would’ve recoiled in shame if Naomi’s fingers hand’t suddenly sped up, instead making your mouth drop open with a cry.

“Go on, show me how pretty you sound when you say my name.”

So you did, pretty whimpers of her first name drifted past your lips some more. She smiled into your neck but you could still tell there was something more she wanted.

“Hmm, try again, and make sure he can hear it.”

It had to be the affect she had on you, because suddenly you were crying out a long moan of Mrs. Belfort, and if her husband couldn’t hear it, he would’ve had to be on the other side of the world.

That hit the spot and sure enough her thumb was coming to rub against your clit in time with the thrust of her fingers. Falling apart in her hands, you felt your whole body tensing against her, stars beginning to rush past your eyes in bliss.

She knew every button to push and exactly what it did, she could tell by the fierce grip you had on her thigh that your high was right around the corner and it was approaching faster than you could manage.

Trailing her lips against your jaw, Naomi sucked the smallest marks into the soft skin there, happy to leaving her brand on you. When she reached your ear, the breathy whisper was the final piece to push you over the edge.

“Come for me, pretty girl.”

And eager to please, you did as you were told. Clamping down hard on her fingers, you felt yourself flood her hand as you cried out for her. Your back arched off the mattress, toes curling and muscles tensing against your will.

As you were coming back down, you knew you’d never come like that before. Looking at Mrs. Belfort’s face, you could tell by that grin that she was eager to see it as often as she could.

She brought her fingers up from between your legs, laying them against her tongue and sucking the wetness off with a filthy moan.

“I don’t think he heard that,” She sighed, shuffling down your body. “Think I’ll just have to give you another.”

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[lucysometimeswrites]

Hey can you please make a award season one but for a latina reader, if you would like you can keep the tom element. Sorry I'm asking again I accidentally deleted the last ask I made. I love your writing, you are amazing.❤️☺️

thank you thank you so much ur so sweet and of course! here you go and i hope you like it :) absolutely loved writing for latina!reader 

Awards Season (latina!reader)

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Here to present the award for Best Actress in a Leading Role, please welcome Meryl Streep!” the host announced. A roar came from the audience at the mention of her name, the very acclaimed actress welcoming the attention and making her way to the microphone.

“Oh, stop it” she said and waved them away, earning a laugh and even more cheering from the theatre. “If I’m honest, I really considered not presenting this award because it breaks me inside to give the Oscar to someone else when it’s rightfully mine” she said in a funny, raspy evil voice, resembling a witch, “But you know, sharing is caring or whatever. Alright let’s get to it.” she continued dejectedly, still joking.

“This year, we have been blessed with beautiful films and, along with them, incredible performances from beautiful and talented actresses. Viola Davis, your abilities to embody different characters and raise awareness to ongoing issues in society has always amazed us, and it does once again in Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom”, Meryl announced, the camera going to Viola who was sitting about 10 seats to my left, the audience (including me) applauding and praising her. Literally all of her performances are incredible.

Could I still believe I was here? Definitely not, and not any time soon. From small skits to my big break with Tom Holland in a stupid rom-com that I didn’t even want to make, to now. Tom knows it’s nothing against him, it’s just that I haven’t learned to appreciate romantic comedies the way he has, but the thing I loved most from doing it was finishing it with Tom. He had become such an important person in my life since that moment, what with guiding me through the newfound world of fame and being there for me when I joined the Marvel franchise, it was just more than I could ever dream of. Now I sit here at the freaking Oscars, with Tom Holland as my date, and having done one of the greatest films ever, nothing could keep the smile off my face. Or the nerves.

 My leg kept bouncing up and down, a nervous action I often did and one that the guy beside me had caught on to real quick when we first met. His warm hand gently squeezed my thigh, and I turned to look at him a little surprised.

“Hey, it’s okay” he softly said, his gaze soft and comforting.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing it” I answered in the same tone, whispering a thank you and letting my hand rest on top of his, weirdly interlocking our fingers. 

Meryl turned to where Olivia Colman was sitting, “Your Majesty,” she started, referencing her portrayals of royalty and causing her to chuckle, “your moving performances have always left us wanting more, and I’m sure that is what I and everyone felt when we saw you in The Father” a big smile broke out on her face, and cheering ensued once more for our queen, or at least one of mine.

“Aging is some we all go through...unfortunately,” Meryl uttered into the mic, touching up her almost white hair, “and you, Cynthia Erivo, made us relate to your character this way with your brilliant acting in Reaching 39″, that woman is simply amazing, I thought as I clapped and cheered with the audience.

“My dear Kate,” the camera panned to Kate Winslet, who just stared fondly at the woman on the stage, “watching you grow as an actress has been one of the pleasures of my life and you reach new heights both professionally and literally in Misdemeanors”, she is such an icon, oh my.

Finally, Meryl Streep turned to look at me in the front row with a grin on her face, and I quickly got into “camera mode”, as I like to call it. I sat up straighter, looking at her with gentle eyes and smile. 

“Señorita Y/N Y/L,” she started with the heavily accented Spanish word for Ms., “with your entrance into the world of filmmaking, you have set new expectations for all of us to reach. Even though this is your first nomination, I feel in my heart it won’t be the last, and we can’t wait to see more of you like we saw with your extraordinary performance in Paraíso” she finished, bringing a big smile to my face at her words. Turning to the camera, I became a bit shy and gave a small wave, feeling Tom squeeze my hand in comfort and another hand on my shoulder from behind. I turned to see Salma Hayek, one of my co-stars in the film, who gave me a strong nod and smile, loudly saying “Eso!” as a cheer for me.

“And the Oscar goes too...” ayyyyy no ay no que nervios que nervios que nervios me muero- all of this going through my head repeatedly but having to put on a smile and a calm façade for the camera was exhausting. Tranquila, tranquila, si no ganas está bien igual solo el hecho de estar aquí ya es lo más-

“Y/N Y/L, Paraíso!” Meryl announced, and all I heard were screams and loud clapping from around me. 

Shocked, I looked up with wide eyes and my jaw going slack a little. I felt a buzz fill my body and the idol on the stage beckoned me up, when I realized I hadn’t moved. I slowly stood up and instantly turned to Tom who quickly pulled me into his arms with a strong hug and whispering in my year, “I knew it! I knew you would do it darling. I’m so so proud of you babe, go get your award!” not giving me a chance to answer as he gave me a quick kiss and turned me around in the direction of the stage. Still in a bit of a daze, I didn’t see Salma, Eugenio (Derbez), and Benicio (del Toro) make their way to me, ambushing me in a group hug as they started jumping around and sort of with me, chanting “EH! EH! EH!” like Latinos at a party and causing me to laugh and come back to my senses. I hugged them all and continued to the stairs, stopping to hug my directors Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón. 

I lifted my dress as I ascended the steps, and in true nervous fashion, stumbled and almost face planted in front of thousands of people. 

“Uy, mierda” I chuckled to myself, and accepted the help of none other than Chris Evans who lent his arm for the remaining steps. I thanked him with a smile and after his Congrats!, I made my way to Meryl who held the famous award in her hands. She handed it to me and pulled me into her embrace, saying “Beautiful job, sweetheart, you’re amazing”, and all I could answer was “Oh my, thank you so much, you’re the amazing one”, sharing a laugh with her and standing in front of the mic.

I looked out into the audience, who were still giving me a standing ovation. Almost like a camera in my head, I tried to ingrain this moment in my mind and took a deep breath, starting my speech.

“God, I really hope I don’t forget any words in English right now” I said with a breathless laugh, inciting one from the people below me. “Thank you so much. Thank you to...um...so many people. To the Academy for this great, great honor. To my fellow nominees for inspiring me every single day. Being in the same room as you is already insane, let alone being nominated with you, it’s just- it’s truly out of this world. Viola, Olivia, Kate, Cynthia, you are my literal idols and if I could physically cut this Oscar into five pieces,” I said as I made a motion of cutting the award and humoured the audience, “I would give a piece to all of you. Um, thank you to my team, my agent, Victoria, te adoro y te agradezco for believing in me and helping me live out my dream. Sorry, I’m probably gonna switch between languages during this.” I said with a laugh. 

“Paraíso was a project that, for me, came out of nowhere. But for my extraordinary directors los señores Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón, it was a life’s work so to you, gracias por darme la oportunidad de darle vida a Marielos and for giving me the experience of a lifetime. Salma, Eugenio, Benicio, Gael, and all the cast and crew, thank you for becoming my second family and supporting me every step of the way. It has been my honor to work with you” I said with a hand on my chest, showing that I was speaking from my heart and smiling at the kisses and cheers sent to me from them, hearing a crazed Te amamos! from Eugenio. It eased the tension in my body which I was incredibly thankful for. 

“I also want to thank-” I stopped, getting a little choked up, “ha, sorry, it’s my family that couldn’t be here” I said, a wave of claps and cheering in comfort came from the audience. Quickly composing myself, I continued, “Ya, okay. All the way back home, lo hice! Familia, les dije que no les iba a agradecer si me ganaba un Oscar algún día por no creer en mi y hoy es ese día, pero no me lo perdonaría si no les agradezco. Gracias por apoyarme a pesar de que yo sé que les dio un ataque que quisiera ser actriz. Gracias por siempre estar ahí para mi, por quererme incondicionalmente y por enseñarme que trabajando duro todo se puede lograr. Los amo infinitamente.” I finished, with tears threatening to roll down my eyes. I tilted my head to the sky to prevent them from falling, and with a deep breath I turned to Tom who had his hands in a prayer stance while looking intently at me, the same smile from before still gracing his face.

“Tommy...” I started, and the audience audibly awed at the nickname, “Oh, you don’t even know what I’m gonna say to him” I said with narrowed eyes, but my gaze found my love once more.

“Thank you so much for being my rock ever since we met. I’m beyond thankful for you and all you do for me, baby. You make me the happiest and thank you for pushing me to do things that scare me. For being there for me in case I fall and for being my person. Te amo, amor.” I blowed him a kiss which he caught and jokingly used to wipe his tears, making me and the other celebrities laugh.

Please wrap up, I read from the screen, and let out and “Ay, perdón! I gotta wrap up sorry sorry” hurriedly finishing up my speech. 

“Lastly, this award goes out to all the Latina girls out there with big dreams. Nunca se den por vencidas. No dejen que nadie les diga que no porque de que se puede, se puede. Querer es poder! I love you guys, my fans oh my gosh, thank you thank you, gracias!” I rushed out, raising the award to the air with one last big smile as Meryl guided me backstage to answer some questions. Just before I was off sight, I turned and looked out to the stage once more.

Lo logré...

---------------------------------------------------------------

once again, disclaimer, movie names are mostly fictitious. feedback and requests always welcome!