#fighting the urge to cancel bc i know doing a thing will make me feel better!!!! but god!!!!!!

[raincamp]

i feel like i might romanticize/glamorize SH too much, as someone with BPD + histrionic traits, romanticizing harmful/self destructive acts that get me attention is just a part of my disorder, and i try to keep it to just myself & not expose other people to it unwillingly, bc i dont believe in encouraging other people to start or to relapse

but i decided to make a post talking about the cons/bad parts of SH to cancel it out

obvious trigger warning

why you shouldn't self harm / the cons

- blood stains on everything. your mattress, your bedsheets, your favorite blanket, your comfy sweatshirt. how bad it feels knowing your whites will never be perfectly white again.

- it hurts. i mean. listen. you can say pain feels good etc etc but be fr our human instincts really don't enjoy it we just like the afteraffects/endorphins that come from it, pain by definition is uncomfortable

- having to get medical attention, or acquire medical knowledge that most people dont have. knowing the layers of skin and where all the arteries are. the fear of hitting arteries. hitting arteries and having to get help. having to pay for stitches.

- the constant need to be deeper, the never feeling like its enough, almost, almost feeling the satisfaction but never actually achieving it. the frustration after you fail. the shame of even trying.

- the addiction. the fact that its going to haunt you for the rest of your life. you could be clean for 10, 25, 40 years and you will still instinctually want to SH anytime something goes wrong and you dont feel like you can cope. you'll constantly be fighting yourself for the rest of your life.

- scars haven't ever really been a con for me tbh. but sometimes i think about the fact that i did it to myself, that theyre permanent, and theyre never going to go away, and it hits me, how a single decision can affect the entire rest of my life. permanently. and i have nobody to blame but myself. and it sucks.

- when you sh for attention and it works, and the shame you feel immediately afterward. and worse, when you get attention/validation from your scars after youve been clean for a long time and you feel like you conned & faked your way into it, and it taints the validation you were recieving.

- "promise me you'll stop 🥺 youre too pretty to do that 🥺 stop for me 🥺" when you roll up your sleeves after making a new friend and they dont get that its an addiction/that youve been clean for a while/ that you cant promise to stop because relapse is inevitable and promising will make it worse/ that its none of their fucking business jfc

- being unable to look at normal, mundane objects like razors, pencil sharpeners, exacto knives, box cutters, knives, etc. without being triggered.

- when you realize its been 10 years since you started and you STILL think about it on a regular basis.

- the itching. the nerve/sensation loss on scars. the weird zapping pains that happen years afterward. infections. the pain lasting for days/weeks. constant aftercare.

- scars fading and being triggered. seeing your scars in the mirror and being triggered. seeing other peoples scars and being triggered. seeing people score bread and being triggered. when people cut normal things and it looks just like sh and being triggered.

- clothes sticking to fresh cuts.

- either urges to relapse during winter because its easier to hide everything or overheating in the summer because you couldnt wait till winter. or both

- other people starting sh because of you. other people shing because of you. this has happened to me multiple times. i started someone's self harm addiction on accident. i can never forgive myself for it.

- forming other addictions to stop relapsing sh. being unable to stop one without leaning hard into the other. or doing both at the same time.

[troutpopulation]

can I tell u bday drama OK thanks (pt 1)

Hi reddit so I've had the same 3 friends for 17 years Megan (bestie) Sophia (the issue) and Dani (lives out of State)

Sophias got 2 bad habit 1 of which is canceling plans the night before or day of. 2 she gets off on the attention she gets from overworking herself into burnout and we've been urging her now for 4 years she needs to cut the shit out and worry more about her health than DnD.

So on homestuck day I got kidnapped, drugged with coke and SA'd in thr back of a car and the next day we were supposed to go to her family's boat, which she canceled and instead invited us to her mom's house. After finding out while I was in the hospital what happened to me she canceled entirely and I found our later it wasn't from a "headache" it was so she didn't miss DnD.

2 months go by and she never makes an effort to see me, and let's the gc know she's been going to parties and involved in her friends ex drama. The day were all supposed to fly up to Seattle for Dani's graduation is approaching and Sophia says hey I'm in town come hang! I say no, and fake being busy. Next day she says hey I brought the friend I've been wanting u to meet for 3 years! And I realise if I don't go, my first time seeing her will be in Seattle and I don't trust her not to make a scene when she realizes I don't fucking like her anymore.

So I go, I'm not rude but when they both tell me she drives through my town, stops at her mom's place which is 3 mins from my house, and drives another 45 mins to his house on a biweekly basis I'm like. Sophia I'm incredibly disappointed that we haven't hung out and you always say it's too far to come see me. Otherwise, hangout goes without a hitch and the guys really fun.

The next day, Megan calls me after class and says that Sophia told her she's been isolating for months and that's why she hasn't seen me or anybody and her parents are fighting and she dropped out of classes and she's been stressed so we should talk about this BEFORE Seattle. I told her that's funny because before I said anything about her not seeing me for a while she was talking about the parties she had been to just like 2 weeks ago. And how she's been driving to see this boy. But yes I will talk to her. Megan's like Interesting...

I call Sophia and she immediately starts profusely apologizing and giving the same explanation she gave Megan, I point out the inconsistencies and she starts freaking out and making more excuses like she dropped out of 3 extracurriculars and only has a few left which like. I didn't say but why do you have more than 4 extracurriculars. She then starts talking about all of her problems and then doubles back and says she didn't say anything to me and ghosted bc she didn't want her problems taking the forefront and I was like when has that ever been a thing. As a group, shit TENDS to happen to us all at once. I was getting stalked, her dog died, and Megan's car got totaled while she was dealing with taking her cousin to court for CSA/incest AT THE SAME TIME. And we all, as we've done for 17 years, got through it together and coped together. That has NEVER been an excuse. I tell her I wish she would have just said she had a lot going on than just ghosting (but lets be real the reason she never said anything is bc she forgot, this isn't the first time).

She starts crying and wailing about I love you! I can't imagine life without you (she's done a fine job at it thus far) you're supposed to be my maid of honor the aunt to my kids I need you in my life my entire life is planned with you in it!!

At this point I feel like throwing up so I just tell her hey. Anything you wanna say you'll get a chance to, but I'm getting overwhelmed right now and I need to leave. I'm not going anywhere, please don't stress out tonight. We will be civil in Seattle. OK? Are we OK? Love you. Bye.

Megan told me a few days later over icecream Sophia called her back and Megan just tore into her that all of this is the consequences of her own actions, Ive dropped everything for her for lesser problems and Sophia managed to show up for Megan when her mom died and when other things happened but the one time I needed her she failed. This was her own fault.

Seattle rolls around and we act totally like normal, everyone knows about everything but we are focusing on Danis graduation.

[dreamersparacosm]

consider.

"you were supposed to be there for me. and you weren’t. you weren’t there." or “you aren’t the person i fell in love with years ago.” or “frankly, i don’t give a fuck.”

surprise me, angelina. also love you and congrats again!

sfw!

note ; ally. how dare you. honestly we are just becoming the queens of angst and it is starting to concern me like who wronged us😫 anyway this is kinda inspired by ur fic bc i didn’t know what else to do and i rlly loved the prompt 😘

warnings ; none i can think of!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

theoretically, this is supposed to be the best night of your life. all the tears, all the yearning, all the trials and tribulations that landed you in your exact position: a modeling contract so prestigious you get the opportunity to walk in new york fashion week. theoretically, this was the first night of the rest of your career.

but your boyfriend, the one who got you to this point, the one who told you that you were born to model, the one who stood by you through every casting call, was nowhere to be found. in fact, if math hadn’t failed you, he was exactly 4,352 miles away from you.

instead, this was shaping up to be the worst night of your life.

“do you just not care? is that what this is?” you shout into the phone, pacing your hotel room that resembles more of a shoebox than anything else. the lights of the city spill in through a gap in your curtains. it’s daunting more than anything else.

thank god he can’t see your face, for if he did, he would see a girl with mascara smudged under her eyes, mimicking a raccoon, and an expression that was so desolate it would bring anyone to depression.

“no, no, baby, i swear. i swear to god i bought the tickets. check, check online! the flight is canceled,” austin rushes out in defense. he’s not lying — the flight really is canceled, so canceled that they’re not even delivering a new aircraft — but somehow, he feels like he is.

“god, austin, you picked the latest flight to new york! you couldn’t ask for the day off or something?” you’re gripping your hair so tight you nearly pull it out of your scalp.

“you know i can’t. i already took off so many days —“

“do they know this is my first runway show? christ’s sake, it’s for prada. this is my big debut. mine. and i’m in a fucking hotel room fighting with you because for some reason, you think your career is more important than mine!”

you’ve twisted the knife in too deep, and you know it. it’s just heavy breathing and silence from his end, nothing but useless thoughts swirling around in his brain. you’re burying homicidal urges, as if hating him will make him appear at your doorstep. “let’s talk tomorrow. i’ll see if i can catch the next flight out.”

you swallow down a sob that bubbles in your throat. your voice, just below a whisper, wavers as you speak, “you were supposed to be here for me. and you’re not. you’re not here.”

he is enraged at you for thinking that he didn’t want to be there with you, for believing that he would table your career for his own. his heart is ripping out of his chest excruciatingly, breaths coming out shaky. “i’m sorry, [y/n]. i tried.”

“no. you fucking didn’t.”

the next thing he hears is a click and a monotone buzz. he realizes seconds later that you’ve hung up on him and left him stranded in an airport in hungary, with nothing but his two carry-on bags and a love for you that transcends across any ocean.

sadly enough, that’s all he has left to give.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

join the celly here!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still friends with them?”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

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

“You like me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’m in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Is that even a question?!

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

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

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

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

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

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

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

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

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

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

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

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

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

“Harry! Please!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, good idea.”

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

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

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

“I’ve just been thinking.”

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

“About what you said about your parents.”

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

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

“There’s a reason for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what if they don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

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

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

And then there’s the absolute worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you end the call.

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

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

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

“Halo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

Hi Taylor!

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

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

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

“He… pulled out for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

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

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

“I do,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

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

[writingonsaturn]

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

  --

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 

“Come on, that was funny.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 

“What do you want?” 

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 

“What is it?” 

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 

“I’d feel more assured.” 

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 

“Really?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 

“I’m older than you.” 

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 

“Y/n?” 

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 

“You’re being quiet.” 

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 

“Now you’re sure?” 

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 

--

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 

“Y/n, I--” 

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 

“If anything ever happened to y--” 

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 

“Y/n?” 

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 

“I can see it in yours too.” 

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he���s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 

[1kook]

skirt chasers - drabble i

a skirt chasers drabble bc they are my fave fictional couple to date <333

tags: coupley and domestic, jk’s terrible attempts at seducing via text, making out, dry humping, spitting (ik idk what came over me), too much talking for this to be sexual pero hey here we are wc: like 3k

entirely based off jungkook from bv3 that man had NO right to look that good and  the holy jirkenstocks (jungkook birkenstocks). wont lie this has been completely written in my drafts since November (yes 2019) and i hoarded it under the belief i would make this a whole part 2 which i did not 

que dios los bendiga <3

-

Much to everyone’s dismay, Jungkook’s spring break in Vegas with the boys is cut three days short when Jimin’s dog sitter suddenly cancels, citing a case of homesickness as enough cause to abruptly go home. When you first hear news of this, you’re preparing yourself for the return of a mopey, useless Jungkook, too drained from four glorious days in Las Vegas to carry on. What you’re not expecting is the mysterious text he sends you before boarding a five hour flight with no service (he was cheap).

kook still on vegas lockdown. Have that pussy ready when i get home

“The fuck does that mean?” Chaeyoung is the first to see the message, your screen lighting up on the kitchen counter beside you as you scrub through a mountainous pile of dishes. You try to play it off, after all, Chaeyoung had seen parts of you you hadn’t even seen, but there was no worse embarrassment than having your homegirls see your clown of a boyfriend’s ridiculousness. “He’s so romantic,” she swoons, and you shoo her away from the offending device as you wipe your hands down on your t-shirt. 

you for what?? One 20 second round 🤥

Chaeyoung suddenly cackles from over your shoulder, and you swear your soul leaves your body. 

You don’t get a response until exactly five hours and thirteen minutes later, your phone vibrating like crazy on the edge of your bathtub, and if you hadn’t given it a hearty kick and sent it flying across the room, front screen shattering into the most intricate spider web of glass shards, it would have fallen into the water. The terror. 

kook pls pick me up 

kook also haha. U r soooo funny 😑

You’re halfway to the airport, idly sitting in traffic and giving the public a free, Beyonce-like experience of The Script’s Breakeven, when you realize you’re not wearing any pants. You’re not exactly sure which part of Jungkook’s long t-shirt had tricked you into believing you were decently dressed, but you’re not too mad. After all, Jungkook’s trip with the boys had been a last minute decision that did not take into consideration your never-ending thirst for your boyfriend, so a little payback never hurt anybody. 

He’s sitting on top of his suitcase outside the airport when you get there, cute Birkenstock-clad feet swinging back and forth as he waits for you like the good boy he is. He crouches down by the passenger window, “Uh, yeah, is this the Uber?” 

You can’t even bother hiding the smile that consumes your face, and it only grows tenfold when he finally gets in and immediately leans over the center console to kiss you. “Look who’s finally back from their little bachelor party,” you murmur, eyes lidded dangerously low when he breaks away. 

“Oh, the party where I accidentally sleep away my life-savings to a stripper named Aries and then have to go home and beg for my wife’s forgiveness?” He responds immediately, devious pink tongue swiping out to lick at your bottom lip. 

You snort. “Joke’s on you, because our hot pool boy kept me company and treated me better in four days than my husband had in six years,” you mumble, finger looping into the silver chain around his neck to pull him close again. 

“Not our hot pool boy,” he whines, smile pressed adorably to your lips. 

You almost retort, but a ten-second horn blast from the car behind you has the two of you jumping three feet from each other, like teenagers caught making out in the school parking lot. 

-

Just as you’d predicted via text, Jungkook barely has the energy to walk up the steps to your apartment, much less fuck you like he’d promised. “Fuck, stop being healthy and let us take the elevator,” he grunts, pushing his suitcase onto the final platform leading to your floor.

“Nope,” you concede. “The stairs give me a good view of your ass going up.”

He shoots you a scandalized look, like you’re an old man who’d just catcalled him on the street. “Pretty sure that’s my line.”

It’s when you’re unlocking the front door, sending out a little prayer to the heavens (Chaeyoung) for the blessing of an empty apartment, that he notices your lack of proper clothing. “Oh, hell no,” he groans, immediately crowding you against the armchair nearest the door. 

You laugh, struggling to turn to face him as he nuzzles his face into your neck. “What seems to be the problem?”

He sighs against the shell of your ear, and you’d be a liar to say it didn’t send a gush of wetness to your core. Jesus, just a single puff of air from Jungkook was enough to turn your coochie into a Fruit Gusher. “Not your sexy legs again,” he whines, and you giggle when he presses those pouty lips to yours. 

“Thought I was supposed to have this pussy ready for you,” you tease, tilting your head up until your noses brush against each other. Jungkook lets a soft huff of a sigh go, eyes fluttering shut at your close proximity. 

There’s a hand that creeps along the back of your thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin until he finally guides it upwards, hitched over his hip. The new position has your body curving backwards, tilted over the edge of the couch as he continues crowding closer and closer to you. “Baby,” he whines, and the tone and sudden usage of your favorite nickname wipes the teasing smile off your face. “I missed you so much,” he purrs, in that tone that says he knows he has you under his complete control, all he has to do is take care of you. 

Still, you try to put up some sort of a fight. “I’m sure your eyes were kept entertained in Vegas,” you retort weakly, not even bothering to hide the jealousy in your tone. 

Jungkook laughs, before puckering his lips and smothering you. Instantly, you throw your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer. His hair tickles your face from how long it’s gotten, and when you brush it back, collecting it into a makeshift baby ponytail, you can’t even enjoy the sight because Jungkook is pressing his rock hard member against your inner thigh. 

“You think I’m a cheater?” He muses when he finally pulls away, a little entranced by the saliva that coats your lips in a thin sheen. “Couldn’t be even if I wanted to.” Before you can ask what that even means, he’s hauling you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his tiny waist, his cock now cradled between your thighs, right where you want him most. You moan immediately, head lolling backwards at the touch you’d craved for days. “Feel that? No one gets my dick hard like you do, baby.”

Even though his adrenaline is on one hundred, and he’s clearly blinded by his lust, Jungkook still sets you down on the bed like you’re made of glass. Any comments you may have made are smothered by his lips on yours, fingers gripping your waist like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and his breath is a little heavy where it fans against the lower half of your face. 

“So pretty,” he huffs, rolling his hips against yours. You groan, eyes rolling back as the familiar feeling of your boyfriend between your legs consumes you. Jungkook presses his mouth against the skin of your neck, where the faintest sheen of sweat had begun to form the moment you unlocked the front door. 

If you thought you were loud, the sounds leaving Jungkook’s throat are teetering on the edge between a pornstar and a yodelling-enthusiast. You can’t help the smirk crossing your features. “Are you really gonna come?”

Jungkook was many things, and drama queen was definitely very high on that list. He gives you the most scandalized expression, stopping the movement of his hips to scoff. “As if,” he snorts, but you know that little eyebrow furrow a little too well. 

You snort, reaching down to his sides as you try to discreetly urge him to start up again. “Baby, your jaw is twitching,” you point out, a soft whine leaving your lips when he shifts your leg up. It’s this same sound that has him finally moving again. 

“Yeah, well,” he groans, one hand deathly gripping into your hip now, pressing you down onto the bed so hard you feel the comforter will swallow you up any minute now. “I just got my wisdom teeth removed, ‘member?”

Your retort is briefly cut off by the cry you let out when he ducks down to suck a mark beneath your jaw. “M-Months ago,” you weakly respond, 

Jungkook ignores you in favor of using his Hulk strength to fold you in half, groans borderline animalistic as he grinds his cock into your soaked panties. His jaw is tight like you’d said, but you can tell he’s holding himself back. He hated coming before you, seldom doing it unless it was one of those rare days where he wanted you to pamper him. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, swallowing your pitiful whines before pushing his tongue down your throat. There was something sexy about your boyfriend being so turned on that his saliva production was off the charts. “You’re gonna ask me to do that thing again, aren’t you?” He predicts. 

All you can do is nod, and Jungkook smirks. “Ah,” he says, much like a doctor would, and you comply, mouth wide. You see the muscles beneath his jaw twitch, and a moment later he’s leaning over you with puckered lips, a glob of saliva begging to drip down. 

The moan that catches in your throat has him smiling, tongue peeking out to cut the bridge of saliva that connected the two of you, and you want to tell him you love him, but then he’s raising his eyebrows at you, motioning for you to swallow, so you do. “Absolutely filthy,” he grins, and then returns to thrusting against you. 

As much as you liked to tease him, he’s good at fulfilling the sexual aspects of his boyfriend role, and he guides you to your orgasm moments later. Of course, he does so by toying with your tits just the way you like, lips pressed firmly to yours as you become a boneless heap beneath him. “That’s it, pretty baby,” he murmurs, pressing one final kiss to your lips before he’s shifting back onto his haunches, tugging you closer until the backs of your knees are cradled carefully in his elbows. 

Despite your transcended state, you love watching Jungkook get himself off, and your eyes flutter as you watch him thrust sloppily against your soiled panties. They’re soaked by your own arousal, and had Jungkook’s sweats not been as dark as they were, you’re almost certain you’d see how they stained. 

He comes a moment later, body twitching and fingers tightening against your skin. His chest heaves, head lolling back as he tries to regain his senses. Silence envelopes the room. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You blurt, no longer able to pretend like something isn’t completely wrong. 

Jungkook rolls his neck out, a satisfying crack resounding, as he angles to look at you again. His tongue is poking against his cheek in that cocky way it does sometimes, and he furrows his brows at you. “What?”

You shuffle up onto your elbows, motioning towards him with the vaguest wave possible. He blinks. You groan. 

“What did you do?” You question, and immediately his eyes go wide and shiny in that way they do when you’re reprimanding him and he doesn’t see the wrong in his ways. 

Cute little lips forming a pout he remains as confused. “Nothing? We really just went to fuck around and get drunk—“

“Kook.”

“You don’t actually think I cheated, I thought we were just joking? Unless…” he trails off, doe eyes suddenly filled with fear. “You weren’t?”

“Jungkook—“

He intercepts you, “did you do something while I was gone? Who was he? Or she? Wow,” he huffs to himself in disbelief. “I don’t even know you well enough to know if you’re into more than just men.” The frown on his face is getting deeper with each word he utters and you almost can’t believe how dumb he could be. “No wonder… am I a terrible boyfriend?” He asks, voice louder and more concerned than it’s been all night. 

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” You say, and Jungkook looks just as lost by your response as you are with his. “Because I’m talking about whatever this is,” you explain, reaching up to drag a hand through his dual-colored locks. 

They’d been carefully tucked under his bucket hat when you’d picked him up, a tuft of blonde peeking out from in front of his ear. It wasn’t until he’d tipped you over the side of the couch that it had tumbled off. Of course, at the time, there had been other pressing matters at hand than wondering why your Hannah Montana blonde boyfriend had returned as Todoroki, which is why you’d waited until now to revisit the topic. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a solid ten seconds. Then, as if processing the emotional episode he’d just given you, he gives you a sheepish smile. It’s one of those smiles where his lips press together thinly and cutely and the apples of his cheeks seem like the squishiest things in the world. “Oh…” he says, voice soft and nothing like the man that spit in your mouth five minutes ago. “You like it?”

[acelezz]

My Experience With Internalized Homophobia

I know that I haven’t been making that many posts lately, but I would like to announce that as of like a month ago, I officially came out to everyone in my life. It was a long journey and I’m glad that’s over and that nothing has changed. My coming out story is nothing special so I’d rather talk about something that is more interesting: my battle with internalized homophobia.

I first heard the word “gay” when I was 8-years-old. It was said on George Lopez and when I asked what the word meant, my mom told me. At first, I was very repulsed. I’ll admit it: I used to be a bit homophobic growing up and I’m very ashamed of it. I’ve always believed in being kind to others so it was never to a gay person’s face. I would just make comments when it was just all straight people and this went on for awhile but it wasn’t something that I did every day; just when the topic was mentioned. For instance, in 7th grade, two of my girl classmates were outed as a couple and although I had been suspecting that bc the one girl was obviously gay, I made a disgusted face when my one friend told me about it and did the same thing when she told me that another friend of hers was bi and was with a girl once. 

At first, I thought “Ok, maybe I used to be like this because I was young and didn’t know that I was gay yet and was just being introduced to gay people after not knowing about them for so long.” Nope. Completely incorrect because lets compare this to my reaction with finding out about trans people. I remember it very clearly: it was when Caitlyn Jenner had just come out. My cousin was staying with us for the weekend and her and my mom started talking about how her coming out documentary was airing that night. I remember asking what it meant to be transgender as my mom was driving us. She explained what it meant. I’ll admit, my reaction was not the best as some of my questions were ignorant but I was still young as I was still only in middle school. But my tone wasn’t nasty; I genuinely wanted to learn more about what it meant to be trans. My mom explained it the best she could as a cis woman and then that night, my parents let us watch the documentary.

Now, I do not know much about Caitlyn Jenner but what I do know is that she probably is not the best trans person to idolize as she has had some controversial moments, but I really do have to admit one thing: my initial understanding and acceptance of trans people came from what her coming out documentary taught me. Initially, I thought that people may wanna be trans if they are gay and are facing too much homophobia and wanna change their sex to avoid discrimination but boy, was middle school me painfully wrong in so many ways 😂. Caitlyn Jenner taught me that transgender people whose gender identity doesn’t match up with their biological sex. Also, that people who crossdress aren’t transgender necessarily. When she transitioned, I wonder if this meant that she liked men now but she answered that for me as well. She taught me that trans people can be any sexuality just like cis people. 

Obviously, my trans knowledge has since expanded but I learned a lot that day and took it in with acceptance. Now, keep in mind that I am gay and cis. When I first learned about being gay, I was a bit disgusted even though my family told me that it was okay. When I first learned about trans people, I was accepting and understanding from day one. Clearly, I was battling internalized homophobia. Obviously, this didn’t come from my family as they were accepting. I believe it was because I knew that not everyone accepted it and that deep down inside, I was scared that no one would accept me. 

Let’s trace back to when I said that when I was young, I had no idea that I’m gay. The only reason that I didn’t know was that because I was so deep in denial that I convinced myself that I wasn’t. Shortly after I found out what gay meant, coincidently, I started to have urges to kiss girls. At first, I thought that it was because I had just learned what it meant to be gay but little did I realize that I was starting puberty.

Now, this inner battle went on for YEARS. I remember that when I was twelve, I first learned what it meant to be bi because I was watching a “Whatdaya Want From Me” lyric video and as you all know, Adam Lambert is gay and someone in the comments was saying how they loved him and his music and said how they are bisexual. I thought that I had a crush on a boy before in 4th grade and one on my friend’s cousin in 7th-8th grade but those were no crushes 😂 If anything, I just really wanted to be friends with them and had never had a real crush on anyone before so I mistook platonic crushes for romantic ones. So in the back of my mind, I kept on saying to myself, “you’re bisexual.”

6th-7th grade was the most unhappy time of my life tied with October 2019-today(big thanks to my family problems and miss rona) because I was constantly argued with myself in my head and it didn't help that I had family problems at this time as well. It got so bad that in 7th grade, I just genuinely hated myself so much that I hated going to sleep at night bc I hated being alone  with my own thoughts (similar to this year but this year it was just all external forces and nothing with myself at all). I was just very miserable and felt really caged from silencing my gay thoughts that I hated that I had. Then I eventually found the song “Let Me Be Myself” by 3 Doors Down and it saved me. It’s as if it was directed towards my own conscious, telling me to be myself and let all of my thoughts flow without arguing with them. Whenever I found myself hating myself, I’d just scream this song in my head and it was so relieving. It made me feel like I was standing up to my own self and it made me feel more free.

Now, there is a reason why I didn’t accept myself as gay or bi in 8th grade. I don’t get crushes much and I literally only saw my friend’s cousin once and found out that he had a gf so, I thought I was asexual for a whole year although I was happily devouring Girl Meets World fanfics that were all just RileyxMaya(I’ll never forgive Disney for not making Rilaya happen and for cancelling the show so early on). This is when I stopped being so homophobic and more accepting. I honestly thought it was bc of all of my LGBTQ+ classmates and bc of their kindness, I learned that I needed to be more of an ally. I mean, I did learn a lot just from watching those classmates, but that wasn’t it, fam. I truly thought that I enjoyed wlw fanfics because I thought that the stories were cute and that the couples were nice together. While that was true, someone who’s just an ally wouldn’t enjoy that many gay stories and read as many and devour them like I did. Not to go off topic, I did start doing that in 7th grade so that is probably another reason why I labeled myself as bi in the back of my head then, but in 8th grade, saw myself as ace bc it’s not like I had a crush on Riley or Maya. I just really shipped them and REALLY enjoyed any wlw fanfic on Wattpad. For some reason, the fact that I didn’t have any crushes that year made me think that I was ace which is totally untrue bc I’m about to hit my one year anniversary of not having a crush (but I’m going to a new school so that’s probably gonna change next month lol)

When I stopped arguing with myself in my head for good and allowed my thoughts to flow freely, I was truly happier although I was still questioning myself. I learned that questioning is so much easier when you consider those thoughts in the back of your head instead of fight them because I did question myself for much longer, but it was pleasant and a self-discovering journey.

I remember my first crush on a girl clearly. I was 15 and at first, I didn’t know that it was a crush bc it was actually my first crush and I didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. I was obsessed with her and constantly thought about her and constantly wanted to be with her. I remember getting really nervous whenever I knew that I was going to see her. I remember that I used to talk about her all the time. Let’s call her K. I remember my mom saying, “L, do you like K?” And I got all nervous and denied it. The moment I realized when it was indeed a crush was when it got to be too much so my mom had a talk with me and I told her about how K made me feel and so my mom was like, “L, that’s a crush.” and I just sat there and said, “oh, crap!” and that’s how I semi-came out.

I still struggled for awhile after that. I knew I wasn’t straight and that I had a crush on a girl, but it was a hard pill to swallow that people could hate me for something that I can’t help. Although that “oh, crap!” was probably a dead giveaway,  it wasn’t an official, “oh, I guess that means that I’m not straight”. I kept it to myself for awhile and didn’t hate myself for it, but still couldn’t quite process it. 

I probably have an unusual self-acceptance story. I didn’t truly accept myself until months later when I got bored and decided to see if the new Nickelodeon was any good and of course, stumbled upon the Loud House. I eventually found the episode “L is For Love” and fell in love with the show. I had never seen good bisexual representation before and it really did help that it was a girl my age at the time too. I felt like I could really relate to Luna with how she was nervous to confess her feelings to Sam and how everyone treated her like she was no different made me really accept myself. It made me realize that friends and family matter the most and all of mine were accepting of LGBT (at the time and I’ll explain what I mean in a second) and that I had nothing to worry about because they’ll always love me. 

It did take me a couple of months to come out to my parents after that because although I knew they’d accept me as they said they would always love me even if I was gay. Coming out is just a scary process even if you know they’ll accept you because you feel like you’re exposed because it’s something that you kept to yourself for so long. My parents telling me that did make it way easier to come out to them so props to them for doing that right. I feel like it’s so important to tell your kids from a young age that you’ll accept them if they’re LGBTQ+ because even if you were never homophobic, coming out is scary and they may worry that you are homophobic but just never brought up the topic. 

It took me so much longer to come out to my friends because for one, I promised myself that I’d tell my family first and also, when I was 16 and had just finally accepted myself as bisexual(even though I’d later realize that I’m just gay, but it was a good start), I became best friends with these girls who were kind of homophobic. We’ll call them GH and GS. GS had found my rilaya fanfics on wattpad from 8th grade and we had just become friends, so I lied and said that it had nothing to do with me, I was just supportive. GS didn’t care but she stopped reading the book and thought that since I was comfortable enough to share my opinions on the subject, that she’d share hers. Not the most homophobic comments, but she made it clear that she didn't like it too much but that she didn’t hate gay people and that she recognized that others don’t share her opinions. GH was more harsh about her opinions which scared me the most. I feel like I should mention that I have two other Christian friends. I wasn’t as worried about them since we never really talked about LGBTQ topics but they do go to the same church as GH and GS, which made me a bit worried. Imagine finally being ready to come out of the closet all of the way just to be scared into staying in there for a few more years. 

This made me feel conflicted bc these girls didn’t constantly preach their beliefs and never bashed on LGBTQ people, but I was afraid that if I came out to them, they wouldn’t accept me. I should mention that they’re very religious Christians and I noticed that homophobic Christians come from a place of love bc they are so brainwashed that they think that shoving their beliefs down people’s throats helps them bc they believe that what they believe is the only right way to live and there's nothing wrong with being religious, but they are very mislead about LGBTQ+ people. I literally saw this when I was 14 and I stood up to my Baptist cyber friend who cyberbullied a lesbian and he admitted that he thought that he was helping her and that he didn’t think that it was bullying. Bullying is never ok and so I blocked him and only learned that from an apology letter that somehow made its way to me through another cyber friend.

I am going to say something that some of you may not agree with. I honestly don’t care if people don’t like that I’m gay as long as they don’t vocalize it. Like I don’t like spiders but I recognize that my dislike is irrational as they play a huge part in our ecosystem and are important to this world, just as every single person is. I wish that people who are against LGBTQ bc of their religion just would recognize that it’s irrational as everyone has different beliefs and would just keep that to themselves. If they just kept that to themselves, I would have came out so much sooner and I bet a lot of people can relate to that. I’ll never understand the dislike as I’m catholic and was taught that it’s okay but respect and kindness is better than outward hatred and is a step towards more acceptance in this world. 

Anyways, after awhile of being in the closet with my friends, I decided I would tell them once we graduated and not in the middle of the school year since if anyone was mean, I could literally just block them and never have to see them again instead of having to switch friend groups and still having to see their faces every day in class and in the hallways. Also, I did go through a period of questioning myself and did not want to tell them until I had a clear label. When I was 17, I got another massive crush on another girl and I realized that I never really did have crushes on boys as those “crushes” do not even begin to compare to the ones that I had on girls. I then finally realized that I'm just lesbian and with school being shut down, I came out sooner than I intended which is good. 

I wish that I would have came out to my friends sooner. Everyone was so accepting, including my christian friends and the two girls that I had massive crushes on. It was a relief that they all accepted me because I feared that they wouldn’t. I really discussed my fears with my religious friends but with my crushes, I knew that they were both accepting of LGBTQ+ as they both had gay friends and only said nice things about gay people, but I was afraid that they would figure it out that I used to like them with how clingy I was with the both of them, especially the second one(let’s call her LM), and would become uncomfortable around me.  I have no idea if either of them figured it out but K showed her support when I came out on insta and left a nice comment and LM liked the post and didn’t make any comments about it but since has shown an a bit of an interest of becoming closer friends with me again since we stopped talking as much since we didn’t have any classes together this year.

I never told either about my feelings but if they figured it out, they must have realized that I was only such a clingy friend bc I was crushing on them and didn’t know how to show it properly bc I was closeted so it came out as that. Also, they probably have both realized that I am over them now as I am not clingy with them at all, making them realized that I have changed and have realized that I learned that I shouldn’t be so clingy as it can be really annoying as I’ve been on the receiving end of that before. Also, I have to say I don’t think that either of them ever liked me. I was just so deep into my fantasies that I created false realities. I mean, I think they both like boys. I’m not saying that they can’t be bisexual, but I feel like they have accepting friends so at least I would have found out by now especially after coming about bc I’ve had 2 ppl come out to me as bi after I came out. What I’m saying is that I’m happy bc I would rather crush on accepting girls who don’t like me back than homophobic girls. Now that I don��t like them anymore, I realized that K and I are good as just acquaintances and that I want to become better friends with LM bc when I talk to her now, I feel as if I’m talking to my best friend M and I’ve always seen M as a sister. 

About my christian friends, I was happy that we got to stay as friends. I was so scared that I would lose them bc they are wonderful people. I came out to them separately and they were all very accepting. It kind of made me realize something about them. Perhaps they too are struggling bc they are being brainwashed into thinking that it’s a sin to be gay but they don’t seem to believe it exactly. I feel like I always see the best of people when I’m alone with them bc ppl feel comfortable to be their true selves around me and I noticed that my christian friends talk differently when we are talking one-on-one. It’s almost as if they change themselves and what they talk about to look like “good christians” as if they seek their own church’s approval in front of one another and it’s sad.

Sorry that this turned out to be so long. I just have really changed over the past decade or so and I’m really proud of how I became a better person and what I learned about myself and the lessons that I learned along the way. I learned to be myself no matter what and I hope that everyone learns that at some point, especially my christian friends that I mentioned bc you should never put on an act to be accepted. You’ll be much happier when you realize that your true friends and family are the ones who love you for you because you’re amazing just the way you are.

[writing-for-amusement]

Commission for Confidence, 8

Summary:  Y/N has been struggling with her self-esteem for years. After incessant pushing from your best friend, Y/N decides to commission an artist to draw her, expecting everything to happen via Internet. However, when your phone is stolen, you try to cancel the commission, but Peter Parker has other ideas. He quickly becomes enraptured by you, and a friendship forms easily. Will it lead to something more? Or will your past fears get in the way?

A/N: Okay, here is a chapter! It’s a little short, imo, but I just really wanted to post something because my Soulmate-Zendaya fic isn’t leaving my brain the way it should be. And, tbh, I have NO IDEA where this one went or even how it got where it did, but hey, I’m not mad at it. I hope you all aren’t mad at it either! Please let me know what you think!!!

And if you want to be tagged, let me know!!!!!!! If there’s a strikethrough on your username, it means that the tag didn’t work for some reason, Idk why it didn’t though

Taglist: @pparkerwrites @scatterbrainedgenius @jordyns-library @wildfirecracker @pastlives-purplesouls @maybemona @hotchocolattee @heregoestheworld @beccaboo929 @willowtree42095 @134340-cm @this-is-just-for-fanfic-lmao

Word Count: 2647

Warnings: mentions of violence from previous chapter, doctors, nausea mention, pain, swearing, being super tired, some anxiety, self-doubt, Peter being a cutie and kinda smooth, awkwardness, reader loves garlic bc I love garlic (so, sorry if you don’t like garlic)

You tried to keep your heartrate regular as Doctor Finestein gently pressed around your ribs to see if there was any damage.

Did you have anxiety about not having a shirt on? Absolutely. Was it present throughout your entire life? Absolutely. Were you trying to work through it? Absolutely.

But, after a long day, with adrenaline rushes and glass and then Peter being adorable, well, longstanding anxiety was trying to take the place of your years-long work.

Of course, you were trying to fight it, so it wasn’t like all your progress had been undone in the course of a few hours. You were proud of that; you’d take that win, thankyouverymuch.

Doctor Finestein stood back and handed your shirt to you. She smiled brightly as you put it on (being careful of your hurt arm) and said cheerfully, “No broken ribs! There’s likely some bruising on the bones, though, but there’s nothing we can do about that here; that one just takes time. However, if you start to experience extreme pain or problems breathing, come back in immediately so we can do some scans.”

“Sure,” you nodded, straightening your shirt. “How do I cope with the pain? Ice?”

“Yep!” she chirped. “Ice it for a bit and then take the ice off for a bit, as needed for the pain. Also, take pain medication, whatever you usually take, or the stuff we’ll give you. After about two days, you could soak in a hot bath or use a hot water bottle or use a warm washcloth to help the exterior bruising fade faster. Sound good?”

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

“So, before we go do the CT scan,” Doctor Finestein leaned in a bit and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I thought Peter was your boyfriend, so that’s why I didn’t ask him to leave earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that’s not right of me as a doctor.”

You felt a rush of blood head straight for your cheeks and chest. You felt like you were in an old cartoon and like your head was going to pop off from the force of your blush.

“N-no,” you stuttered. “No, he’s not. He’s just a good friend.”

“Well, he’s a sweet boy,” the doctor grinned at your sudden sheepishness, “and he obviously likes you. So, I suggest you hold on to him.”

Before you could stutter out a response, she gestured for you to follow her out of the room. You gathered your things, trying to cool your face, and left the room.

Peter looked up from where he was leaning against the wall and beamed at you.

You tried to knock the echoes of Doctor Finestein from your brain. Thankfully, her comments had also knocked most of your anxious thoughts out of your head, too. So, you were just in a place of minor disequilibrium as you tried to control your emotions.

You and Peter followed the good doctor down the hallway and into the elevator. She began to explain the process of a CT scan as you went down a few floors, and you managed to focus on what she was saying.

Though, part of your brain would have preferred for you to focus on Peter as he stood close to you in the small space of the elevator.

The CT scan was actually easier than you thought, and you chatted with Peter in the waiting room while waiting for everything to process. He was telling another story about Ned, and you were smiling so wide that you thought you’d crack some of your skin.

“Y/N?” Doctor Finestein called your name after about twenty minutes, making you and Peter both look up. She tilted her head with a smile, and you crossed over to her. Peter was right on your heels.

“Long time no see,” you joked to the doctor as she took you to a small, private office sort of room. It was all quite professional.

“I know, it’s been ages,” the doctor joked right back. She didn’t sit down, so neither did you and Peter.

“What’s the damage?” Peter asked after a few tense moments of silence when your brain had decided to stall.

“No major damage!” Doctor Finestein cheered.

“Yay!” you and Peter echoed brightly.

As Doctor Finestein explained the results in a bit more detail, all you could think about was your stomach rumbling. You pushed the hunger away and listened intently as the doctor went through the things you should do at home, and what to do if certain situations were to pop up. You let your brain soak all of it up, hoping that you wouldn’t have to return to the hospital for a long time.

Soon, you were leaving the hospital with Peter and some strong pain medication. It was dark as you exited the building, but you enjoyed not having to smell the hospital air, even if it was Manhattan air and the quality left much to be desired. Hospital air always felt stiff to you, a little stifling. You understood why, as the air needed to be clean, but it didn’t mean that you liked the scent.

“I heard your stomach rumbling,” Peter informed you as you were walking. “Let’s get some food in you. What sounds good?”

You fought down the urge to tell him that he didn’t have to hang around with you anymore, as he was surely getting tired of you. Normally, that’s what you would’ve said. But tonight, you were tired, and Peter offered, so you let yourself go along with it.

“I think pizza sounds good. But not too greasy,” you said after a moment of thought.

“I know just the place,” Peter grinned, linking his elbow through your good one, the left one, and began to lead the way. “They also sell these really tasty fries; I think you’ll love it. Well… do you like garlic?”

“I love garlic,” you informed him immediately. “My family always joked that we could never be vampires because we love garlic too much.”

Peter laughed at that, his head tilting back and his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’ve never thought of it like that, but I’m the same way!”

You chuckled with him, the warm from his arm spreading up your body. It was comforting, but it also brought attention to the fact that your body was sore and exhausted. You let out a small sigh as you thought of collapsing onto your bed.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked gently.

“Hm?” You looked at him to see concern knitting his brows. “Oh, I’m just really tired and sore. I was thinking about my bed,” you chuckled.

“Well, the sooner we get pizza, the sooner we can get to your bed.”

“We?” you asked him with a smirk.

“Yup,” he said easily, though the blush tinging his cheeks made you grin.

Peter talked aimlessly as you walked together, a yawn stretching your jaw. His chattering paused very briefly, and you glanced at him to see him hailing a cab. One minute later, you were clambering carefully into a taxi and he was climbing in next to you. Peter told the driver where to go and then he was launching back into his story. You were only half listening, of course, because you were trying to stay awake; you’d been trying to stay awake even when walking down the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, Peter was paying the driver and helping you out of the car. When you straightened after stepping out, you were hit with a wave of pain and nausea that had you nearly falling onto the asphalt.

Peter was there, though, catching you easily with his body. Unfortunately, his arms ended up catching you on the ribs, making you wince once more. Your injured arm was throbbing in time with your face, and as he easily helped boost you up, you sighed heavily.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked you, making you glance up at him. The concern in his soft brown eyes make you feel a little better, but then your arm throbbed again. As you grimaced and looked away from him, Peter gently guided you back into the cab, which had yet to leave because the door was still open.

You scrambled to the corner of the car, clutching your pained ribs with your good hand, you could faintly hear Peter talking to the driver. It seemed that leaving the hospital had caused all the pain to catch up with you; it was akin to some of your worst cramps.

The car started to move, and your eyes flickered open to see Peter watching you carefully. You managed to give him a weak smile and straightened up with another grimace.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to get in a comfortable enough position in the small space. “I think the pain and nausea caught up with me,” you chuckled humorlessly.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay,” he reassured you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You never have to apologize for not feeling well. Especially not to me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Queens,” he replied easily, scooting closer to you.

“But what about—”

“I’m taking you home,” he said firmly. “I’ll make you some food.”

“You can cook?” you asked with perhaps a little too much doubt.

“I can, yes,” Peter informed you with great pride. “I can make some great pasta; I will have you know that it is a great delicacy.”

His dramatism made you chuckle, though you controlled it enough to where you didn’t cause you more pain. You saw how the sound made Peter’s concern lessen ever so slightly and took a deep breath to try to relax. It made your ribs twinge, but the rest of your muscles began to relax a bit, so it mostly made you feel better.

The cab finally arrived at your apartment building and Peter paid the driver before you could. He helped you out of the cab this time, essentially forcing you to brace yourself on him as you stood properly. Then, Peter laced your arms together and began to walk.

As you stepped up onto the sidewalk, you realized that your entire body was sore, especially your legs. You figured that it was probably from being dragged around by the robbers by the hair, and from the adrenaline completely working through your system.

Once again, you found yourself cursing the lack of a working elevator.

Peter’s sure and steady steps next to your shaky ones made you feel self-conscious about making the trip longer than it needed to be. He was already missing out on apparently amazing pizza because you couldn’t even manage to get fully out of a taxi, and now here he was, helping you and your shaky, sore body cross the damn sidewalk to get to the entrance of your apartment building.

“Peter,” you stopped in front of the entrance, making him turn to you. “Peter, you don’t have to keep helping me. It’s okay. You can go home; I’ll be alright. You don’t have to waste your evening on me; I know it’s annoying.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head in slight confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Peter, I’ve already taken up so much of your day with my stupid problems and probably annoying mannerisms, and I don’t want to annoy you by being slow and difficult, so really, it’s okay if you go home. I won’t be hurt. It’s gonna take me a bit to get up the stairs, so you really don’t need to waste your time on—”

“Hey now,” Peter interrupted your fast speech, putting a finger to your lips. “You’re not a waste of time, Y/N, and your problems aren’t stupid. You make it seem like it was your fault you got hurt. It wasn’t, Y/N, just as much as it… wasn’t mine. It was the robbers’ fault. Your mannerisms are not annoying: in fact, they are adorable, and I enjoy seeing them.”

“But—”

Peter surprised you by tenderly cupping your cheeks and gazing into your eyes intensely. “Y/N,” he nearly whispered, “you need help. And I want to help. Beyond that, I want to be around you more; I like hanging out with you. This is just an excuse to hang out with you more. I promise. You’re not annoying and you aren’t a waste of time or a burden. You’re my friend.”

You blinked away simmering tears and cleared your throat. Peter’s hands drifted away from your cheeks and he gently took your elbow.

“Let’s get inside, okay?” The artist suddenly grinned, “This is also an excuse to get you to try my amazing cooking.”

You chuckled lightly and let him lace your arms together again. “You keep talking yourself up, buddy, and I’m gonna be disappointed if you only cook ramen.”

Peter laughed brightly as he walked inside with you. “I can make ramen from scratch, but that’s not what I’m going to make you.”

“Well,” you winced slightly as you inhaled too sharply, “what are you making?”

“It’s a secret,” he winked down at you.

Your laughter echoed across the lobby and you saw Peter’s wide grin. You found yourself copying it, with the happiness to match it.

Then, you arrived at the stairs.

The happiness on your face deflated like the world’s saddest balloon as you stared at what would likely be your demise. You mentally cursed the day that the elevator broke down, even though you knew that it broke down a year and a half ago (therefore before you moved into the building) and began to curse the shoddy repairman and his family.

“I can carry you,” Peter suggested.

Your mind went blank and your jaw gave a jaunty hello to the floor.

“What?” you stammered.

“I can carry you up the stairs,” he repeated, amusement in his eyes.

“What? No, no way, Peter.”

“Why not?” he pouted.

“Well, for one, it’s eight fucking flights of stairs,” you pointed out, and he nodded in understanding. “Two, I am way too heavy for you. I’d break your back. There’s no way I’m letting you carry me up the stairs on your back; no way in hell.”

Peter flashed you a mischievous smirk and the next thing you knew, your legs were dangling in the air and Peter was cradling you to his chest. He had one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around your shoulders.

“Peter!” you essentially squealed, wiggling in his hold. “What the fuck are you doing? Put me down, you’ll hurt yourself!”

He grinned down at you and began to climb the stairs. He didn’t even look bothered by holding you, much less carrying you up eight flights of stairs.

“One, I never said anything about carrying you on my back,” he said cheekily, adding a wink, “and two, you’re not that heavy.”

“Peter, I weigh more than you and another person combined, please put me down, you’re going to hurt yourself,” you pleaded.

=“I’m fine,” he shrugged one shoulder. “Besides, I get to hold you and feel your gorgeous form; what could be better than that?”

It was obviously a rhetorical question, but it was one that had you sputtering for a response. Peter simply beamed down at you and that made your blood roar in your ears. You stopped squirming and simply let him carry you, though your brain was racing.

When Peter’s foot slipped on a step, however, you found yourself clutching his neck in shock. He caught himself easily and had even squeezed you closer to his chest, but the temporary shift had you spooked. As you opened your eyes, you saw him gazing down at you with an unreadable gleam in his eyes.

After a few moments, Peter cleared his throat and muttered out an apology before continuing up the stairs.

[whatjeon]

high school student!jungkook

genre(s): headcanons/bullet points, high school!au, (low-key) fuckboy!au, (a smidge of) badboy!au, friends to lovers, slow burn (??), a lil bit of angst, kinda crack-y, basically an emotional rollercoaster

warning(s): strong language

A/N: hello friends i am back not with an imagine but a bunch of bullet points i’ll try and pass off as mini-paragraphs!! anyway, i’ve been thinking about this a lot so i figured that i might as well publish something if i want to keep calling myself a “writer”... enjoy!! p.s. sorry not sorry for all the cliches and shitty humour LOL

high school student!jungkook au 

jungkook’s the new kid at your high school and moved into your neighbourhood during the summer of your sophomore year

lives in the big-ass house with a pool and indoor theatre bc his dad’s some music producer or something

honestly you had no idea he had moved in until the first day of school and even then, you had no clue what the fuss was about (but that was partially due to the fact that you hadn’t seen him yet lol)

he’s hot af and he knows it too which makes him hella cocky

he strolls into every single class with one hand in his jean pocket and the other either: a) running through his perfectly-gelled black hair or b) loosely holding onto his backpack strap

you’re sitting in AP psych with your five thousand pencils and highlighters out on your desk ready to clutch that A for the semester when he saunters in whistling

as soon as you see him walk in you know that he’s a fuckboy™

timberlands? check

light-washed jeans? check

plain white tee? checkcheckcheck

when he catches you looking at him (not that he could blame you like tbh everyone was checking him out) he winks at you and flashes you a smirk before sitting a couple seats behind you

by the end of the day you learn that you have AP psych and AP econ with jungkook

he’s quiet in class but you know he’s smart because the first thing your AP econ teacher has you guys do is participate in a game of kahoot as a diagnostic test. you sit behind jungkook so you’re able to see his laptop screen as he clicks on the right answers. he actually places first in the entire class and surprise surprise !! you end up placing second thanks to jeon jungkook the econ god

the next day at school you’re at your locker taking out your textbook for your math course when jungkook stops by and leans against the one next to yours and goes like “i believe you owe me a thank you, hmm?”

and you’re like “for what?” bc you genuinely forgot all about the kahoot test

jungkook laughs, tilts his head to the side, and as he’s glancing at your eyes he says “econ?”

in that moment you realise jungkook is not only attractive but also really really observant

“oh,” you say, shrugging and closing your locker. “thanks, i guess. see you around... jungkook, right?”

his finely-chiselled jaw drops and he’s like who does this girl think she is omf i’m literally the talk of the school AND WE HAVE TWO CLASSES TOGETHER

all he can do is smile (not as smugly, though, since you just ended the conversation) and push himself off of the locker he was leaning against

as he turns to go to his next class he can’t help but wonder who you really are because he’s a masochist you don’t take shit and you’re... kinda cute actually

the next day in psych jungkook’s hardcore flirting with you because he is determined to prove that there’s no way any girl on earth can resist jeon jungkook 

from behind you hear a pencil tip snapping followed by jungkook’s smooth voice cursing “oh my god i don’t have a spare” and being a nice person you turn around and hand him one of yours

as he takes the pencil his fingers brush against yours (ON PURPOSE!!!) and he winks at you before saying “life without you is like a broken pencil... pointless”

you send him an unamused smile and retort “your efforts are like a broken pencil. nice try, jeon”

the nickname sticks and you proceed to call him jeon for the next four months of school

jungkook likes how you’re not madly in love with him like the majority of the school so he makes even more of an effort to talk to you and get to know you during your classes and you become pretty good friends (??) if you can call it that

it’s really more like close acquaintances who can flirt joke around with each other

sometime in october jungkook asks you why you keep calling him jeon instead of jungkook and you tell him that he’s not worth two syllables (but in reality it’s because you think his last name sounds really cool... also the corner of his mouth always twitches upwards when you do but you aren’t ever mentioning that to him) and all he does is laugh because it’s refreshing to have a girl roast him instead of fawn over him, especially since he accidentally flashed his abs at basketball try-outs whoops

time skip ! it’s november and exams are coming up in a week so you’re studying for hours on end almost every day, sleeping late and waking early until one day you sleep through your alarm

you’re rushing out the front door and getting on your bike when you hear a “y/n!” behind you

surprise!!! it’s jungkook on his motorcycle (ofc he has a motorcycle lmao)

he’s like “wow, little miss honour student late for school?” and you leave your bike on your front porch before putting on the helmet and retorting with “can you just stick with an aesthetic?? you’re clearly a fuckboy–– only bad boys own motorcycles”

jungkook bites his lip to hide his grin but the urge to smile is so strong that he has to look down at his vans so that you can’t see just how happy you make him

you’re five minutes away from school when you realise that he isn’t wearing a helmet because he gave you his and your arms instinctively tighten around his waist

jungkook almost chokes, which is unlike him because he’s jeon jungkook, one of the most attractive boys at your school and #1 fuckboy, and he’ll be damned if he starts falling for some random girl just because she’s arguably one of the hardest-working people in the grade and her eyes remind him of stars and when she laughs it’s like honey drizzling on top of pancakes on a sunday mor–– and that’s when jeon jungkook realises he likes you

WHICH IS WHY as soon as you guys get to school he walks away and flirts with the first girl he sees

you’re like “ok???” but hella confused and low-key jealous mad

littLE DO YOU KNOW that as soon as you’re out of sight jungkook’s face goes from ;) to :( because he doesn’t want to flirt with anyone else except you

school ends and you walk through the parking lot to get to the main road when jungkook spots you and rides his motorcycle over, tossing his helmet at you

“get on, y/n. we’re going home”

and you ask him why bc you’re still kinda pissed about what happened that morning and he says “it’s what friends do” even though calling whatever it is that you have “friendship” feels wrong and just a little bit painful

from that day on jungkook drives you to school and back every day on his motorcycle (after he promises you that he’ll get a second helmet), even on days where his first class is a free period and he technically could wake up an hour later than usual because homeboy is hopelessly in love with you

it’s spring AKA track season !! jeon jungkook, the golden (ex)fuckboy (you can’t be a fuckboy if you only flirt with one girl sorry jeon) of your high school, makes the ~varsity~ team

which means he can’t drive you home after school because you don’t do a spring sport :( but you’re cool with it

this is also the time when you become really close with another notorious fuckboy who lives in your neighbourhood, kim taehyung, except there’s no sexual tension between you two because taehyung is a good bro™ who just likes to get it on sometimes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

one day jungkook sees you and taehyung walking home together when practice is canceled and he is JEALOUS AF

he knows he’s being irrational but going home together is you and jungkook’s thing !!! not you and taehyung’s thing !!!!!

so the next day he goes to “talk” to taehyung bc he doesn’t want you to know he’s jealous and basically tells taehyung to “get the fuck away from y/n or else” and taehyung smirks and refuses bc he’s a little shit

aaaaand you’re just chilling during your free period when a friend tells you that your mans jungkook and taehyung are fighting in the quad

the fight gets broken up as soon as you enter because 1) jungkook doesn’t want you to see him all violent and 2) taehyung actually really likes being your friend and doesn’t want to mess things up that badly

but the damage is done and people are already talking about how y/n, a notorious goody two-shoes, is dating jungkook and taehyung at the same time and they both found out, leading to their fight at the quad

you ignore jungkook and taehyung for the rest of the day for damage control but it’s useless and your “perfect” image has been tarnished

you head over to jungkook’s house after he’s done with track practice and chew. him. out. 

which then turns into a full-blown argument

“everyone thinks that i’m a fucking whore now thanks to you and your goddamn temper, jungkook. honestly, can you grow the fuck up?”

“well you didn’t have to go around doing who knows what with taehyung, y/n”

“as if you’re any better”

you guys are screaming at each other and the argument ends when jungkook finally loses his composure and yells “then why don’t you just fucking leave and never come back, y/n?”

so you angrily storm off, tears welling up in your eyes

the next morning you wake up feeling awful and you have half the mind to skip school for the day, but then you remember that you’re a high school student taking multiple APs so skipping class is waaay out of the question

you’re about to head out the door when you remember that jungkook isn’t there to drive you to class anymore :( so you have to go from the back door to the bike shed and take your old bike out

when you emerge from the backyard you see a figure dressed in a black hoodie and grey sweats (classic fuckboy™ clothing), leaning against his black motorcycle with his hands in his pockets, staring intently at the ground

you’re in front of him when he finally looks up

his brown eyes widen and he clears his throat nervously but you speak first because you got 0 sleep last night and seeing him look so soft and just him being there in front of your house even after a huge fight makes your heart swell

“i didn’t mean what i said yesterday. well, i did mean some parts but i never meant to use my words to hurt you. i was mad and being irrational. i’m sorry. you mean so much to me and i just–– i’m pretty sure i’m like, in love with you and oh my god did i just say that? i mean––”

and jungkook’s speechless but also relieved because then that means he doesn’t have to do the confessing first

what he does do first is kiss you in the middle of your rambling because 1) he loves you too and 2) he doesn’t want you to embarrass yourself any further lol

when the two of you finally part he just smiles really softly at you and pull you in for a tight hug

“i love you too, y/n. i’m still a little mad, though”

and you’re like oh boy, here we go but then jungkook smirks, tightens his hold on you, and says “i can’t believe taehyung is the reason why we finally confessed to each other”

when you and jungkook walk into school together with your hands tightly clasped together everyone is like POWER COUPLE ALERT because the ex-fuckboy and goody-two-shoes are actually dating ?!!

bonus: you guys are voted prom king and queen wow stan legends stan jungkook and y/n

extra bonus: taehyung is your ship’s #1 fan and president of the unofficial jungkook+y/n fanclub

[spidey-boyy]

WE’RE ON THE LAST ONE

DAREDEVIL S3 EP 13, WE MADE IT, HERE WE GO

- is fisk going to prom or something, that purple flower does not look good

- okay who is the english dude, i never got his name

- i feel like we’re back in s1 but in a good way with this opening

- the fact that fisk is dressed in all white and matt is in all black,,,

- i know i keep on saying it, but the scoreeeee,,,, okay let’s get into it peeps

- foggy is such a good friend, like he truly cares and belives in his heart that matt will change his mind if foggy buys some time

okay but do you think matt talked to foggy about him being catholic, like obviously to an extent he did bc foggy likes to crack on him sometimes with it, but here he says “its a catholic thing”, like like he’s heard this stuff before, maybe he used to be religious himself or something idk, but it feels like they’ve talked about it in a way and idk I find that interesting bc religion is something that can be so personal and it just shows how close matt and foggy were/are

- foggy’s about to punch a wall, seema making my heart break

- oh crap Matt’s not using the burner phone,,, i forgot about those tapes. oh, it’s not his phone cool

- holyyyy crap ray,,, now HE’S out here making my heart break

- i love learning court rules from this show

- oh sHiT the video

-  love the fight scenes, they’re choreographed soooo well

- t h a t s c e n e

the way matt just screamed from his soul and yelled at Fisk with everything he had, getting in his face and fighting every urge to land another punch on him, taking off his mask off and forcing Fisk to look at him. and you just saw it in every inch of his body that Matt was fighting himself too, to do the thing he’s been so dead set on doing the whole season but he just knew he couldn’t, and also him just wanting to protect foggy and karen so fiercely bc this was what his whole problem was about, him pushing them away bc he felt at some point he wasn’t going to be able to protect them and now he’s sticking up for them and staying true to himself in a way he hadn’t been confidently able to do this whole season

holy shit that scene

- MY BOY IS BACK ON THE ROOF, THE MUSIC, AHH

- :’ ) him and maggieeee

- :’ ) matt’s speech at father lantom’s funeral

- matt knows foggy’s family??? that’s so sweet

- they’re back together  :””” )

- ahhh hes moving back in

- MATT FOGGY AND KAREN ARE BACK TOGETHER

- ANOTHER NAPKIN SIGN, LOVE YOU FOGGY

- wait i’m going to cryyyyyyy, i love them so much

- okay okay okay i have so many thoughts that i might just do another post on but i love love love this show so much and ahhhhh i have so much to say so yeah, i might do another post. but overall, SUCH a great show and GREAT acting holy crap, i think its my favorite marvel show now tbh, and yeah, so many thoughts lol

And tbh, I know the show was canceled and it should’ve gotten so many more seasons bc damn it’s so good and it deserved it, but this was actually a good ending for it I think. It really does pain me that I guess we’re not going to see the future of Nelson Murdock, and Page, but I think the note of optimism it left on (ignoring the last dex scene) really did coincidentally wrap everything up well even if this wasn’t supposed to be the end. Yeah thier relationships with each other aren’t really going to be the same ever again but Matt was able to find foggy and karen again, and they’re going to stick together and do the thing they all set out to do which was to help others. And with the season starting off on a really depressing and grim note, the sense of hope at the end just highlighted Matt’s growth and made me really happy for their new beginnings.

But yeah, it deserved another season, screw you netflix or whoever decided to pull the plug

Anywayssssss, now that Matt, and assuming everyone else, is really in the mcu,,, don’t screw it up marvel 😀

[ravenvsfox]

Hello hi! I have a prompt if you're feeling up to it? There is so much of Andrew looking after sick!Neil but can we have it reversed? I think Andrew would low-key (highkey) love the focused attention from Neil (also,,, Neil not being sure how to look after sick people and turning to advice from the other foxes as discreetly as possible bc there's no way Andrew wants them knowing he's anything less than impenetrable)

(I did my best w this prompt from one POV, sorry it took so very absurdly long! lots of Andrew thoughts with a side of useless boy dialogue)

He wakes up bleary and dry-mouthed, his tongue catching on his hard palate like papers rustling together. Andrew squints into his pillow, pressing two fingers into the eyelid of one streaming eye. The sun is too dilute to touch him, and the breeze from the cracked window chills him so much that it hurts, muscles locked and shivering.

He knew he was getting sick when the hurt that lives inside him flared real, visible and disgusting. All this hacking, running, sweating makes him vulnerable, loud when he wants to be quiet. Neil had called him overdramatic. He’d dragged the covers to his side of the bed in reply, battered sleep’s door until it splintered.

Now he feels like he always felt in the heart-racing countdown to withdrawal, fighting through sweat and aches and cracking lips, cracking skin, cracking strength. Whiskey won’t help him here though. Nothing will help him here, after rowing through the confused, freezing night and only now washing up in foggy morning, fever lapping at him.

Something drips onto his hot forehead and his chest pumps hard, startled. His eyes flash open.

Neil is frowning, looming over him and holding a cold rag that’s a bit too wet. It’s clumsy, but it feels better when Neil arranges it on his sweaty brow. His hand stays on the compress, a sustaining pressure, like he’s healing with just his hands and his willpower. Water runs into his hair like tears.

“How are you?” Neil asks. His other hand walks from the bedspread to Andrew’s side, he can feel the fingertips becoming a full-palmed press. It’s the comfort of a person who always feels better when he’s touched hard and deliberately, alive in a way he can feel.

Andrew doesn’t reply, but he knows that his closed eyes and relaxed body mean something to Neil. He trusts him with his hot forehead and his bedside.

“You look bad,” Neil continues.

“I am not playing,” Andrew says hoarsely. “If that’s what you’re angling for so tactfully.”

Neil’s hands retreat, Andrew’s forehead folds under the rag where no one will see. “I’m here because you’re my— I’m not worried about our goalie, I’m worried about you.”

“You’re here because this is your room,” Andrew corrects.

“Fine,” Neil says, voice full of the opposite. “I’m going to practice, anyway, since that’s all I care about.”

Andrew feels him leave their bed, and he finds that the wet smell of his hair was keeping his headache at bay. Another drop of water rolls down his temple, and he scrubs the compress from his face so he can watch Neil leave, but he’s already gone.

It haunts his heart, for a while, the snapped olive branch, the hurt that put its fist in its mouth and left the room so Andrew wouldn’t see it properly.

He knows, deep in him, that he’s not being any different than usual, but he also knows what Neil might have expected, seeing him spread out in their bed with his eyes wet. He’s trying to fix Andrew’s surface like he never tries to fix what’s underneath.

Neil doesn’t have the vocabulary for sickness that isn’t terminal, though. He can’t fathom something between a bandaid and a prosthetic.

He drifts, for hours, so thirsty that he can feel it in his skin, so stuffed from throat to nose that he can only breathe dry and heavy through his mouth. He can hear the wheeze inside of him.

In foster care, they would make him sleep in the garage when he got sick. They didn’t want him to infect a house full of already difficult children. He remembers watching the shadows of feet moving in the light under the door, the way the cold only made him sicker and angrier, a yoga mat between his body and the concrete.

He blinks and his eyes are crusted together. He can taste salt. He thinks of Neil and the pain in his chest changes. He latches onto the feeling, like the garage door opening in the morning, letting him back into the warmth.

There’s water on the bedside table the next time his eyes open all the way, and he rolls, panting with the movement, putting his hand around the base of the glass, his muscles loose, feeling barely taped together.

He feels a hand on his spine, and then the glass is plucked from his grip. He slits his eyes against bright bright sunlit auburn, and gulps when Neil tips the glass against his chapped lips.

“This is bad,” Neil says urgently. “You’re too hot, I think we have to break the fever.”

“You will be sick,” Andrew warns, delirious. “You’re so close.”

“I’m close,” Neil confirms warmly. “And I got Dan to cancel practice tonight.”

“What?” Andrew says, uncomprehending.

“Exy. Not happening.”

“Are you also sick?”

Neil laughs quietly, and Andrew’s eased back onto the pillows, glass drained.

“Do you want me to be here?” Neil asks quietly. The back of his hand keeps brushing against the flushed skin of Andrew’s cheeks.

“I want you,” Andrew starts, swallowing and coughing around the caught, sharp feeling in his throat. “I want you to cancel more practice. All of it.”

“Funny,” Neil says flatly. “Anything else?”

Andrew screws his eyes closed and says nothing. He wants him to stay close. He feels so much like a cure, he’s burned so many things out of Andrew before.

“I don’t know how to help you,” Neil says honestly, rough with frustration. “Just tell me what’s hurting you.”

It’s a childish response to pain, wanting to see the physical source of it so it can be staunched and fought and squared away. His energy is frenetic, actively pursuing, waking Andrew up. The heat of Neil is different from the heat of his fever—jungle rain instead of drought.

Neil gets up to leave again, and Andrew catches him by the wrist. It’s the fastest he’s moved all day. “Stay.”

Neil stops moving immediately, save for the way his hand curls until they’re palm to palm.

“Yeah,” Neil says, and gets up into bed, drawing Andrew’s hand with him. He ends up half arched towards Neil, hand sweaty, t-shirt twisted around his chest. It’s uncomfortable. It’s better.

Sleep tries to put a bag over his head and lead him out of the room, but Neil’s presence is neutralizing, especially when he starts to talk.

“Practice was terrible, you didn’t miss much.”

“I didn’t expect to,” Andrew says stuffily. Neil pinches his pinky between two of his fingers.

“Your alternate sucks. He shouldn’t be allowed in goal if he’s going to desecrate it like that.”

He’s talking about the scrawny freshman goalkeeper with the attitude of a fourth year and the skill of a high schooler. Something about him fires Neil up in a way that Andrew finds off-colour amusing, on a good day.

“He didn’t save a single goal. It wasn’t even practice, it was public humiliation. Renee would’ve obliterated him, and her skill set is limited, next to you. But christ, Nicky could’ve done better. I was considering locking him in the change rooms but you know how fucking loud he is, and last time Wymack…”

Andrew’s mind wanders, alternately focusing on the slip of Neil’s fingers between his, the whir of the overhead fan, the way the tag on the duvet is irritating the bare skin of his stomach. His insides are an uneasy sea, and his face is raw from rubbing his running eyes and nose. Neil’s voice is so soft, even when he’s saying things that should leave scratches.

Andrew thinks, confused, that he’s never been taken care of before, except by an apologetic Nicky on his way to a shift at Eden’s Twilight, a bottle of stolen tylenol left at the foot of his bed. Cass— no. He’d been afraid to be the sort of foster kid who needed things, and so his weakness was folded up and swallowed. He pretended not to hurt for as long as he was with the Spears.

His withdrawal and rehabilitation had been his own problems, bloody things dragged through the foxes’ house. Everyone’s noses wrinkled, involuntary, at the ugly sight of his healing.

But Neil shared his coping mechanisms and grinned at his anger and provoked him into something, urged him into something—

Sometimes he feels like the monster, the shapeshifter, being coaxed back to humanity by the love interest, the waning moon. Neil makes him feel like his fangs are receding. Neil is a speech and a silver bullet.

For so many of the worst years of his life, everyone else waited for him to fall off the precarious side of a building, told him that it would get better, told him there was a safety net five stories down, even though he couldn’t see it. Neil launched the front of his body over the side, teeth gritted, muscles straining, and started hoisting him up by the hand.

His throat clogs with tiredness, itchy and thick. Neil’s free hand passes over his damp hair, his body heat bumping closer like a mouth ducking to kiss him, and Andrew is dropped, overwhelmed, into sleep.

______

“No, I don’t know. It’s not about him. No, Dan. Put Matt on the phone? Don’t tell him—no, I’m serious.”

Andrew’s face breaks watery sleep, but his ears are still foggy underneath the surface. Neil’s voice is low and distant, probably in the seat by their window.

“Hey,” Neil says quickly. “Do you still have the recipe for that soup you were making Dan last— no he’s fine. I just wanted to…” He makes a clucking noise, upset, and Andrew rolls over to watch him. He finds him staring distractedly out at the parking lot with his feet tucked underneath him, unlit cigarette between his fingers.

There’s a burble of a voice on the other end of the line, and Neil puts his head back. Andrew watches the whole long arc of his neck and feels a violent pull of affection in his gut, wishes he could do something about it.

“Yeah,” he whispers, Andrew frowns at the shift in Neil’s tone. “It’s scaring me. I know it’s not— he’s not that sick, or hurt, and no one’s responsible, so it’s…” he looks towards Andrew, whose eyes are still slitted against the lamplight.

“Exactly,” he breathes, looking back out at the cloud-frothed sky. “I can’t fight a virus for him. And I don’t know how, I don’t know what people do, like, am I supposed to be doing what he wants or what he needs because they’re not— I can’t solve this with cigarettes on the roof, and I can’t pour alcohol on it, but I want his eyes clear again. I don’t. I hate it when I touch him and he doesn’t react. I can’t… he’s too sick to see straight.” He’s getting upset. Andrew can hear his own heartbeat reacting, surging ahead.

“I know,” Neil says, frustrated. “But I don’t want to do nothing. I just--do you have that recipe or not?”

A moment, a hum, a scribble.

“Okay, thanks Matt. I’m not telling him that. Okay. Okay. Bye.”

He flips his phone shut and drops it on the carpet, putting both palms to his eyes and holding them there, cigarette still dangling. Andrew’s eyes close, but he hears it when Neil sighs and stands, moving carefully to the door. He can sense him pausing at the foot of the bed and watching Andrew for a moment, and then he says, “you’re awake.”

“Yes,” Andrew replies, not opening his eyes. “You were having a heart-to-heart two feet from my sickbed.” He can tell that Neil’s gnawing his lip. He can almost hear the skin tearing.

“Did it bother you?”

“You are constantly bothering me.”

“I mean—“

“I know what you mean. I do not care what you do or do not tell Boyd.”

“I think,” Neil starts, “that he was too surprised that you have a human response to viral infection to use it against you.” He sounds torn between annoyance and amusement, and Andrew cracks an eye at him.

“I don’t need soup,” he informs him, and Neil sags, walking heavily over to the bed and dropping down in front of it. It’s so dramatic that Andrew might have left the room, if he were mobile.

“What do you need?”

They look at each other, and the only sound in the room is from the galloping fan and their breathing.

“Get in bed,” Andrew says finally, trying halfheartedly to make it seem like it’s not an answer to his question.

Neil’s eyes go cotton-soft, grateful. He puts his face down on the blankets in front of him, and Andrew stares at the slip of a cowlick on the top of his head.

“Painkillers first,” he murmurs. “Aaron got you NyQuil, and there’s Vicks in the bathroom cupboard.”

Andrew lets him talk, and knows that he’s been searching for ways to fix this, asking their teammates and the internet. There’s a bow in Andrew’s chest, and Neil always seems to have a grip on both slippery loose ends. The knot of it keeps giving and giving and giving.

Neil stands again, hesitating. “Thanks for trusting me with this,” he says softly. He closes the door behind him, and it clicks into place like it’s embarrassed.

Andrew blinks. Gluey sickness peels back just enough for him to recognize that he’s enjoying himself somewhere through his gummy symptoms. Neil treats a nasty flu with the same attentive concern that he affords gunshot wounds, that he never seems to give his own pain.

He’s never taken care of someone, and Andrew’s never been taken care of, but it works, somehow, it makes sense. That garage door swings inward and the warmth wriggles back into Andrew’s fingers.

Neil comes back in with a tray full of over-the-counter medications spread out like a dessert sampler, and Andrew coughs, hard, over the unfamiliar twitch of laughter in his throat.

Neil sleeps through the time that practice usually falls, and Andrew holds him to his chest, too hot to sleep. Neil bought him strawberry lozenges designed for kids, and Andrew’s halfway through the pack, mouth buzzing. The sun melts, a slab of ice cream on the hot horizon.

“Hey, knock knock,” Nicky says suddenly from the doorway, and Andrew’s keenly aware of how debauched their room looks, the wrappers and kleenex and clothes and heat, Neil crushed to Andrew’s body. “I just wanted to see if you were okay, and I knew neither of you were offering any updates, so hey, I’m here. Are you okay?”

Andrew means to say ‘leave’ but what actually comes out is “yes”. The painkillers must be there, behind his teeth, loosening his tongue. Nicky beams. Neil hitches his leg higher over his hip. Andrew pinches his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, Nicky is gone, and so is the sun. But Neil��s there, shivering without a blanket, mouth wet at Andrew’s clavicle. He sighs into his hair, and the breath comes easy. His chest is clear.

[haptureratch]

Day #?

Still, like, withdrawing from oxytocin or something. Still in pain. Having more moments of strength. But oh does it hurt to accidentally look at the last pic I have of him on my phone when I'm scrolling for something else....

I'm not fully certain of what I'll do yet. Tell him I made the decision to see other people? Wait and feel it out when we exchange belated xmas gifts? Ghost him? Lol. The last option is very tempting. Because then he can't hurt me anymore than he has to this point. And then from here on it's just me accepting it and letting time heal me. I might hurt more if he did break up with me. Even though in my mind it has already happened and it's as though I'm watching it play out in the slowest fucking motion. G*rl pls 🙄

There are a couple more urges but these are not solutions and I won't be cursing myself by giving them life outside my mind

----

Dec 13th: "I would love snugs holy shit like kill me with snuhgs pls"

Dec 16th: "Good morning! I hope you have a great day 💜"

Dec 17th: This begins the sporadic texting. After the D&D night he had. That evening I go out with friends and stupidly tipsy-text him, trying to flirt and get attention. I'm glued to my phone and he barely replies. When I looked the way that I did :(

God dammit i was adding more dates but my fucking phone refreshed the page and I just lost it - anyway basically me looking back and being like wtf happened??? I'm not gonna gaslight the way I felt at the time bc it FELT like something had changed even though the texting isn't that bad until I start digging at him

12/19: I voice to him my fear of being clingy. I'm also post call lol yikes. He takes too long to get back to me and I go awol, canceling our hangout plan. I get mad. I say this feels one sided. He says he's sorry I feel this way, talks about his mom and his ex, I'm pissed at him taking zero responsibility.

12/20: I don't wanna follow through with our plans but I force myself to, worried I'll ruin it if I flake. I'm a nervous wreck and I set stiff boundaries. He's off put. (LOL OK but it's fine when you put up boundaries huh)

I say I'm calmer. I say I gotta ease back into him.

12/21: I AWAKE SO NOT CALM LOL. I had restless sleep. He barely texts this day. Doesn't reply to me but sends a meme at like 9pm. 11pm phone call

12/22: He loses his first pt. I come see him.

12/23: Nothing until 5pm when I ask for snacks. To be fair he does offer but i get released and RUN lol.. I send him a pic; no reply.

12/24: yikes.

12/25: we say merry xmas. I try so hard to focus on my family. I break and invite him for a new years dinner. He hits me with this fucking shit several hours later "Actually I'd like to talk about some things before we make more plans, but that can wait until you get back." PROBABLY THIS IS WHERE I GO FIGHT OR FLIGHT LOL

12/26: I'm panicking. I'm trying to text and call him, no reply. My roommate intervenes. My brother comforts me. What the actual fuck Jordan. You stupid fucking 🅱️inch. Like absolute monster moves. We talk, I cry. I say some shit I fucking regret now like wanting him to know what it's like to be loved by me FIXKING VOMMMMMMM

12/27: I ask what taking a step back looks like. He doesn't know how to and it still be fair to me (spoiler alert you have been a nightmare you goddamn hoe none of this has been fair at all and this is why I have some options in mind now)

We know how it goes from there.

I wish I had dates for the last trigger I had with him. That night didn't feel right at all. Ok it was the 14th. Then he came the 15th for a redo. D&D when he didn't reply for so long... That bothered me bc it's not like it took the entire day and night.. Then he was gonna call me on the 17th but I was out with Sarah. And then him not giving me attention sealed the deal for me. Then being post call really fucked me up and that's where I blew up. I was like this is one sided and I hate it. His reply seemed so hands off dude.

We had phone calls the 19th, 20th, 21st. I've lost track of what was said. Which one was the one I first confronted him and asked him to be honest if he still wanted to keep dating. He did thank me for the confrontation but after that he really just did not prove himself to me. It didn't even feel like he cared about my well-being dude. I wanna go back to every single day I broke down and just hold me as I cry.

It is not 1am on January 2nd. I have spend quite a while on edge and not feeling well or taking care of my body. It's becoming a portion of the relationship by now. It's been more than a few days of hiccup.

Perhaps he is giving me space now. But I asked so many times for communication. Barely anything and some days nothing. I sent memes without replies. He asked how I was on his only day off. But he didn't want to call or see me. It hurt. Bc before 12/17 or whatever he would have wanted that. Somewhere along the way I ruined this and he did not help me fix it. So what am I to do now?

THEN PERISH lol

P.S. I think it was a rough rotation. And my need for physical comfort was high. And I definitely was trying to snipe out the evenings where we could spend time. It was only like once a week for fucks sake how was that too attached and too fast for him???? Anyway at some point it felt like he was not also looking for those free moments to be with me. That's when I got all shifty and I couldn't handle the pressure. I got destructive. And passive aggressive. Finally blew up. He didn't take any of it well. I really thought I ate lmao. Bitch the whole plate was there plain as day I wasn't doing a god damn thing to get him to want me. God I hate my life.

By now it's too long gone for me to understand what was messing up our evenings. Like when the kissing wasn't as good and I was left restless and unsatisfied. And when I was so pushy with all the things I wanted and didn't want instead of giving things a try..... And I don't understand what's going on with his end as I fight to keep myself together every day since the 26th. But I truly wonder if too much damage has been done. Should I even bother giving these new insights?

[gokailyger84]

nightmare scenario (bc i love those): danny has been having reoccurring dreams of NB snapping at him for various reasons (danny doesn't care, is only using him, NB is sick of him, etc.) and leaving/making D leave. at first he's able to ignore it, but they kept coming and NB is always so angry in the dreams and D is starting to get anxious about there being some truth to them. bc he really doesn't want to lose NB but is now deathly afraid of it. hurt/comfort with a twist ;) - love, @sin-grumps

@sin-grumps

Danny’s eyes snapped open.  

Blinking slowly,  he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom.   The lingering bits of sleep fading along with his dream.  

He sat up in his bed, the sheets pooling down around his waist.  Running a hand through his tangled curls, he sighed softly.

Bringing his hand down, he lightly touched his bare chest.  It felt tight.  As if he was being squeezed from the inside.

The dream.

Once again, leaving him with a feeling of dread.  

Danny frowned, throwing his covers off and climbing out of bed.  He trudged sluggishly to his attached bathroom.  

Flicking the light on, he approached the sink.  Looking into the mirror, he could see the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes.  

He turned on the sink and splashed his face with cold water.  His mind drifted back to his dream.

Danny smirked as he stared up at the looming monster.  A strange cat-like creature, probably from space, roared down at him.  It had to be at least thirty feet tall.  

But Danny wasn’t worried.  

He never was.  

He charged forward, ignoring the calls to wait.  He could handle this.  

Danny leapt up into the sky, his cape flapping in the wind behind him.  He pulled back his fist and struck the creature right between the eyes.  The creature cried out in pain.  

Danny’s smirk widened.

“DANNY, LOOK OUT!”  A voice yelled.  

Danny couldn’t react in time as a giant claw slammed into his body.  The breath was knocked out of him.  His limp body flew through several building before coming to rest in a pile of rubble.  

Danny groaned.  

He tried to sit up, wincing at the explosion of pain.  He could tell several of his bones were broken.  Opening an eye, he saw Egoraptor and Meouch looking down at him.  They’re expressions full of worry.  

Danny tried to open his mouth.  Tell them he was fine.  But the pain was too much.  His mind slipped away into unconsciousness.

Danny woke up to find himself in his bed at home.  Looking down at himself, most of his body was wrapped in bandages. A cast on his left arm and leg.  

He sat up and stretched as much as he could.  The pain had diminished.  He could tell his bones were all healed up. He’d need to get the casts removed.

Glancing around his room, he saw he was alone, but there was a chair next to his bed.  A figure then appeared in the open doorway.  

Danny looked up at his partner.  Nin/ja Brian was holding a tray of food.  The two stared at each other for a few seconds, before the nin/ja sighed and walked into the room, placing the tray on the nightstand.  

He pulled off his mask and sat down on the chair.  Danny continued to stare.  

Nin/ja Brian was hunched over, his gaze fixed on the floor.  Danny could see a few harsh looking bruises on his face.  One of his forearms was also bandaged, blood beginning to soak through.  

“Bri-”

“Danny.  What the hell did you think you were doing?”  Nin/ja Brian said interrupting.

Danny could immediately tell that he was angry.  His voice was low and calm. A clear sign of restrained anger.  Odd behavior that was becoming more frequent, Danny had observed.

But it was still Nin/ja Brian.  His partner.  His best buddy.  Danny chuckled.

“What do you mean, Bri?  Jealous of my awesome skills?”  Danny joked.  

Nin/ja Brian’s head turned towards him.  Fixing Danny with an intense glare.  

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Danny!”  Nin/ja Brian snapped.

Danny flinched.  

Nin/ja Brian ran a hand over his face.  Danny could see his hand was trembling. 

“You always fucking do this!  Just charge in without any thought!  Without a plan!”  

“It worked out, didn’t it?”  Danny offered.

Nin/ja Brian suddenly stood up, his fists clenched at his sides.  

“That’s not the fucking point, Danny!”  Nin/ja Brian gritted out.  He then shook his head.  

“Why do I even bother?”  He muttered.  Danny watched in stunned silence as Nin/ja Brian exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

Danny closed his eyes, hanging his head low.  The water dripping off of his face. 

The dreams were becoming more frequent.  They were always different but the theme remained the same.  

Danny would do something, that would end up with him and Nin/ja Brian having some kind of confrontation.  

That part never changed.  

Nin/ja Brian being upset or angry with him.  

Despite being a dream, it always left him feeling terrible and the worst thing was, he wasn’t entirely sure why.  

He didn’t behave any different in his dreams than he did in real life.  He was always the same.  It was Nin/ja Brian who was different.

Or, maybe he wasn’t different.

In his dreams, Nin/ja Brian could talk.  He didn’t hold back and would tell Danny how he felt and what he thought about his actions.  

Danny turned on his shower.  

But, Nin/ja Brian couldn’t talk.  Not because he didn’t want to.  He literally couldn’t.  An incident,  long ago, with a blade and his throat.  

Danny stripped himself of his clothes, pushing the thoughts and dreams out of his mind.

He pointedly ignored the growing tightness in his chest

——————————————————————————-

Later on, Danny entered the kitchen.  He smiled seeing the plate of breakfast waiting for him on the cabinet.  He grabbed it placing it on the table.  

He walked to the refrigerator, noticing the note on the it.  Nin/ja Brian had left to meet up with Egoraptor for training.  

Danny smiled, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a pitcher of tea.  Egoraptor had been pestering Nin/ja Brian for years to train him to fight.  

It made sense.  Ever since N/S/P had teamed up with T/W/R/P, they had been getting involved in more battles.  

Danny frowned.  

Dangerous battles.  

It had gotten to a point where Nin/ja Brian always created a mental link with Danny before battles and when they went out into space.  

Things changed too rapidly for his sign language to be of any kind of convenience.  

Danny’s mind drifted back to his dream.  He still felt unsettled.  

Maybe he should just chill for the day.  He walked into the living room and laid down on the couch, turning the tv on.  

Yeah, he should just relax.  Get those unnerving dreams out of his head.

———————————————————————–

Danny groaned, grogglily as he was shaken awake.  His eyes opened to see Nin/ja Brian hovering over him.  His expression firm.

“Danny.  There’s been an attack.  We need to go.”  He said through the mental link.  

He then moved back as Danny sat up quickly.  He rushed to his room, Nin/ja Brian right on his heels, and changed into his Sexbang uniform. 

Putting a hand on Nin/ja Brian’s shoulder, the two vanished in a cloud of smoke.

————————————————

Danny stared out at the ongoing fighting.  

It seemed a turf war had broken out between a human and alien gang.  Danny could hear gunfire and laser sounds coming in the air.  

Normally, N/S/P wouldn’t be called for something as simple as a gang war but with alien involvement, they were the ones to call.  

T/W/R/P was also called in, as Doctor S/ung had ties to the aliens.  

Danny could feel the urge to rush down there and stop the fight but he hesitated.  His mind drifting back to his dream.  

“Danny?”  Nin/ja Brian called out in his mind.  Danny didn’t respond.  

He could hear his partner’s angry words, circling in his mind.    

The fists at his side unclenched.  

He turned around, away from the raging battle and approached the group.  

“What’s the plan?”  He asked, ignoring the looks of shock directed his way.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Danny walked down the hall.  He was headed towards his and Nin/ja Brian’s in-home studio.  

Today was a jam session day.  

A day specifically set aside for them to work on new songs.  

Danny entered the room.  Nin/ja Brian was already sitting at his keyboard, playing a simple melody.  Danny grinned walking over.  "

Hey Nin/ja Brian.“  He greeted.  

Nin/ja Brian glanced over his shoulder and nodded his greeting.  Danny’s grin widened as he stopped at his partner’s side.  

Nin/ja Brian turned his head towards Danny and frowned.  Danny wasn’t in his usual kimono.  In fact he was dressed up, as if he was going out.  

Danny dug into his pockets, pulling out crumpled pieces of paper.  

"Hey, so listen.  I scored a date with this hot lady and we’re spending the day together.  So, if you could just crank out some tasty tunes for these lyrics.  I’ll be back, probably tomorrow to check them out.”  

Danny placed the papers onto Nin/ja Brian’s keyboard.  He then turned to head out the door.  

“Danny.”  

Danny paused.  

Nin/ja Brian’s voice sounded off.  

He turned to look at his partner, who was pulling his mask off.  He then turned around in his chair and looked up at Danny.  

Danny couldn’t help but notice that he looked angry.  

Well, Nin/ja Brian was always angry but he looked angrier than usual.  

Still, Danny put on a bright smile.

“What’s up, buddy?”

Nin/ja Brian’s eyes narrowed.

“Buddy?  Is that a fucking joke!”  He snapped.  Danny’s smile fell from his face.  

“What do you mean?”  He asked, genuinely confused.  Nin/ja Brian gestured to the papers.  

“We’re supposed to create our music today.  Our music.  Together.”  Nin/ja Brian said.  

“We set aside today, specifically to do it.”

“I know, but my plans changed.”  Danny replied with a shrug.  "Besides it’s not like it’s the first time I had to cancel.  What’s the big deal?“

Nin/ja Brian’s hands clenched into fists.

"The big deal is, you’re dumping all the work on me again for some girl you’ll date for a week before never seeing her again.”  

Danny gave him a lopsided smile.  

“That’s not true, Brian.  This girl’s different.”  

Nin/ja Brian fought to roll his eyes.  He stood up, grabbing the papers and crumbling them into a ball.  

“I’m so goddamn sick of this!  All you do is use me!  You can make your own fucking music!  I’m done!”  

Danny watched in shock as Nin/ja Brian roughly brushed past him and walked out the door.

“Brian?”  Danny called.  "Wait!“  

He ran to the door but Nin/ja Brian was gone.

Danny sat up quickly.  His vision taking in the darkness of his bedroom.  

Reaching over towards his nightstand, he turned on his lamp.  

He ran a hand over his face, grimacing at the feeling of clamminess.  

Another dream.  

Another dream, where he had pissed Nin/ja Brian off.  

His selfishness, once again making his partner leave.

Danny placed a hand on his chest.  The feeling of dread, he was becoming used to, still lingered.  

Were these dreams premonitions?  

Would Nin/ja Brian really leave him?  

Danny winced.  That feeling weighing down on him.  

Danny drew in a long breath, letting it out slowly.  

These dreams were affecting him more deeply than he initially thought.  

Shaking his head, Danny got out of bed and began his day.

—————————————————————————–

Walking down the hall of his home, Danny felt a sense of déjà vu.  

The day had been pretty normal.  

He had breakfast, messed around with his phone and watched some tv.  Not too different for his usual brainstorming days.  

He entered into his and Nin/ja Brian’s studio.  His partner was seated at his keyboard.  

Danny could smell a fresh earth scent in the air.  Nin/ja Brian must have taken a shower after his training regiment.  

Sometimes he didn’t.  

He was probably just tired of Danny’s whining over the smell.  

Danny walked over and dug into his pocket, pulling out his notes filled with potential lyrics.  He usually kept them in a binder but had a creative spark, when he was out on a date and had to hastily write his thoughts down.  

He didn’t miss the parallels to his dream.  

Nin/ja Brian watched silently as Danny placed the notes onto his keyboard.  

He looked up at Danny.  A question in his eyes before understanding and resignation filled them.  

He sighed and turned away, grabbing the papers.  

Danny immediately felt that feeling again.  

In his chest, building.  

He realized, with a jolt, that his dream.  He had done this before.  Several times, actually.  

Ditching Nin/ja Brian, leaving him with all the work.  Making him work on their band alone.  

Looking at his partner now, Danny could see that Nin/ja Brian was expecting him to do it again.  

Dream Nin/ja Brian’s words drifted back to him.  

"All you do is use me!”  

Well, not this time.  

Danny nudged Nin/ja Brian’s arm.  He smiled when the ninja looked up at him.  His eyes curious.  

“Scoot over, Bri.  Let’s get this session started.”  

Danny watched with delight, as Nin/ja Brian’s eyes lit up.  The corners of his eyes crinkling.  

He was smiling.  

Danny chuckled to himself, taking a seat.  The tightness in his chest fading.  

Yeah, this was much better.

———————————————————————————–

Danny let out a low groan.  He tried to sit up, but his chest was on fire.  

He bit back a cry of pain and settled back down into the pillows behind him.  

That dragon packed quite a punch.  

Lately, it seemed like it was becoming a trend for Danny to get his ass handed to him in battles.  

He thought back to how, Nin/ja Brian had caught him mid-air after the dragon had nearly scorched him to a crisp.  

Danny could at least say, he followed the plan.  Creating a distraction, while Egoraptor and Lord Pho/bos blast the creature from behind.  

They were able to finish the battle with minor injuries.  Danny having the worst of them.  

A throat cleared, causing Danny to look up.  In the doorway, Nin/ja Brian stood, looking a bit nervous.  Danny smiled.  

“Come on in, Brian.”  He said, patting the empty space next to him on his bed.  

Nin/ja Brian hesitated a moment, before coming in.  He took a seat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.  

The two sat in silence for several minutes.  They didn’t need to speak.  

Sometimes they just needed to be in each other’s presence.  Something they got into the habit of doing, after difficult battles.  

Danny didn’t fully understand it before but he did now.  The relief that he and Nin/ja Brian were here, together.  

How had he not seen it before?  

Eventually, Nin/ja Brian stood up and headed for the door.  

Danny suddenly felt a surge of panic feel him.  His dreams rushing back to him.  

All the times, Nin/ja Brian left him.  He didn’t want Nin/ja Brian to leave him.  

Not ever.  

“Brian?”  

Nin/ja Brian turned back to see Danny, staring up at him.  His hands were tightly clenching the covers. He was biting his bottom lip.

“Do…do you…hate me?”  He asked, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Nin/ja Brian’s eyes widened.  

What?  

Hate him?  

Where did that even come from?  

Nin/ja Brian walked back over to the bed and sat down on the edge, beside him.  

He reached up and took off his mask.  

Danny shivered feeling the familiar tingle of the mental link connecting.

“What?  Danny…why would you think that?”

Danny shrugged, pulling at his chest bandages absentmindedly.  

“I guess…I mean lately, I’ve been sorta realizing just how I…um, treat you.”  Danny mumbled, his frown deepening.  

Nin/ja Brian looked at Danny curiously.  Danny was worried about how he treated him?  

That was a first.  

Danny could be so self-centered and bullheaded, that Nin/ja Brian had just gotten used to it.  

Sure, those intrusive thoughts entered his mind a lot more frequently. Mainly, after Nin/ja Brian had realized his true feelings for Danny.  

His partner really came off as uncaring and manipulative.  Nin/ja Brian had just accepted that as how he was.  

It wasn’t like he was any better, with the murders and emotional issues but he was trying to change.  

Maybe, Danny wanted to change too.  

Lately, he had been.

“I do admit, sometimes I feel like you don’t…care about me.”  Nin/ja Brian said.  

He didn’t miss Danny’s flinch but he continued on.  This would probably be his only chance to ‘voice’ how he felt.  

“Despite, calling me your best friend.  You never listen to me.  You order me around. We always do what you want to do.”  

Danny’s hands were white knuckled, gripping the sheets tightly.  

“And I guess, I don’t mind.  Not really.  I’ve also noticed, you’ve been different lately and that’s…good.  But, I mean if it’s temporary, like I said, I’m used to how you are.  I’m not going to ask you to change.  After all, I wouldn’t be here or alive if it wasn’t for you.” Nin/ja Brian looked down.  

“I’m being selfish, I know.  I owe you my life and so much more and here I am complaining.”  

Danny turned towards Nin/ja Brian, quickly shaking his head.  

“No, Brian.  You’re not selfish.  You’re right.  I’ve been treating you like a lackey and not a friend.”  

Danny hesitantly reached over and placed his hand over Nin/ja Brian’s, causing him to meet his eyes.  

“I’m sorry I’ve treated you that way and I want to change.  I will change.”  Danny then took a deep breath, squeezing Nin/ja Brian’s hand.  

“I do care about you, Bri.  I honestly can’t imagine my life without you.”  

Nin/ja Brian’s lips quirked up.  

“I don’t hate you, Danny.”  

Danny could feel a warmth flowing over him.  A feeling he had felt before.  

A tightening of his chest but it wasn’t filled…with dread.  

“I could never hate you.”  Nin/ja Brian continued.  

The feeling was getting stronger.  Danny looked at Nin/ja Brian startled.  

That feeling.  

It was coming from him.  

Leaking through their link?  

Danny reached up a hand, lightly touching Nin/ja Brian’s cheek, causing him to blush.  

“Brian.”  Danny whispered, his voice filled with disbelief.  

“You…you love me?”  

Nin/ja Brian averted his eyes, his entire face turning red.  He nodded.  

“I’m sorry.”  

Danny shook his head.  

“No, no, Brian.  It’s okay.  I’m just surprised.”  

Nin/ja Brian shyly looked back at him.  

“I didn’t mean to.”  

Danny smiled chuckling lightly.  

“Even I know that’s not something you can control.”  

Nin/ja Brian nodded in agreement. 

Danny then carefully, pulled the covers off of him and turned to his side, hanging his legs over the edge of the bed, pressing up to Nin/ja Brian’s side.  

He lifted his arm, slightly wincing at the stretch, and wrapped his arm around Nin/ja Brian’s shoulder, causing the ninja’s blush to darken.  

Danny’s smile widened.  

He could get used to that.  But first.  

“Hey Brian.  I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you.  I guess, I went overboard once we left our clan.  Doing what I wanted after being told what to do for so long.  It’s a wonder you stuck with me all his time.”  

“Danny.”  

Danny shook his head.  

“No, man.  I’ve treated you like shit.  You know it and I know it.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  "To find out that you actually love me.  After all of that.  It’s pretty surreal.“  

Danny then removed his arm from around his partner’s shoulders.  He shifted the both of them, until they were facing each other.  

Danny gently took Nin/ja Brian’s hands into his.  

"I know I don’t deserve it.  Deserve you.  But could you, maybe give me some time?”  

Nin/ja Brian looked at him in confusion.  

“Time for what?”  

Danny took a breath.  He looked up meeting Nin/ja Brian’s steel blue eyes.  

“I care about you, Bri.  I really do.  But I need to do some self-reflection. To see…how I feel.”  

Nin/ja Brian’s expression was still confused, until he focused on Danny’s words.  

See how he feels?  

His eyes widened slightly.  

“Danny, you don’t have to…I don’t expect anything.”  He said, looking down at their joined hands.  

“You don’t have to force yourself to…love me.”  

Danny lightly rubbed the backs of Nin/ja Brian’s hands with his thumbs.  

“I know, Brian.  But I can’t deny that I care deeply for you and lately, it’s felt like more.”  

Danny suddenly laughed.  It sounded breathless.  

“I mean, I’ve never been attracted to a dude before.  The thought never crossed my mind but with you Brian…you’re different.”  

Danny then released Nin/ja Brian’s hands and pulled him into a hug.  Nin/ja Brian stiffened for a moment before relaxing into his arms.  

Danny could feel hints of happiness flowing through their link.  

“You don’t have to, especially considering the way I’ve been treating you but…will you wait, Brian?”  

Nin/ja Brian wrapped his arms around Danny, pulling himself closer.  He nodded.  

“I’ll wait, Danny.  I’m not going anywhere.”

[saintkimora]

well here is how the past 4 days have been w joel

we started talking on scruff like 5 days ago. it was actually really nice conversation. like i usually suck at talking to people on those apps but w him it came naturally so that was a good first sign

so our first cuddle date was on friday night. i drove to his apartment and i actually drove on the parkway! it was scary but i had to do it bc using the regular streets would have taken like an extra 12 minutes. i was not expecting much bc he said on scruff that he isnt looking for a relationship bc hes been going from relationship to relationship for a while and he felt suppressed so he wanted some time to just hoe around (ok caleb) so i went into it just expecting a decent one night thing. i got there around midnight

 so i finally got there and he was soooooooooo cute in person omg!!! he already looked cute in his profile pic but he was even cuter irl. so i got there and his 3 roommates were all in like the living room area so i had to meet them. it was hard and i was getting more nervous as the convo went on. but the first thing one of them asked me was if i knew who that poppy was and i was like yeah i do lol and they all went wild asfajkdfbheakdfkha they were so surprised that i knew who she was! and then one of them showed me her pet toad lmao 

so then we went into his room. we cuddled and talked and stuff and it was soooooo nice omg. he was sooooooooooooo cute and sweet and affectionate and funny and his voice is kinda dorky. and his hair is SOOOOOOOOO SO nice omg i was touching it like all night. and his ass is so nice omg i finally got a man with some ass!!! his ass is so fat and hairy and jiggly omg! and he had a really cute soft belly too and he has nice titties. and his eyelashes are so cute and he had nice eyebrows and a nice beard and soft lips. AND he likes me hairy and he told me i didnt even need to trim my pubes! now this is a MAN 

so we talked on his bed for most of the night. we talked about drag race (he has bad opinions on it though he hates all the messy iconic queens! like he doesnt like nina or trinity smh) and overwatch and ff and kh and also some more personal stuff. and he has anxiety too! which is good bc now i dont have to worry as much about my anxiety being a burden like i had to do with c*leb. he also told me about some of his past relationships which i will get to later bc i was not happy about this

 at one point we sat on his couch bc he wanted to show me all the playbills for the shows hes been to/been a part of. i do not care for theatre stuff but i still enjoyed it bc he seemed really excited to show off all his playbills lol. he also gave me his mcat book since he doesnt need it since hes already taken it and gotten an acceptable score lol

so we cuddled some more (hes a REALLY good cuddler btw omg) and we did some touching and kissing and oral obv and then we fell asleep. and this was like one of my fave parts omg i looooooooved falling asleep with him and waking up with him. it was such a cute first date! he did leave like 3 hickeys on me though :/

so then i had to leave and go back home to go to my cousins baptism party. it was boring but it wasnt as bad as it couldve been bc joel kept texting me all day telling me he missed me and stuff which was cute 

then he invited me over again that night. so towards the end of the party he was like “btw my friends and i just started watching rent live so take your time bc youll prob get here during the middle of it” and i was like ok that is not happening bc i was not about to sit there and hang out w him and his friends that i dont know at all bc i am not repeating my third date with caleb. so i really took my time and watched the newest drag race. then i got there around midnight again

so we went into his room and he was playing kh 2.8 but we turned it off and we played mariokart on the switch instead! 10th grade me WISHES he was current me omg it was super fun even though he beat me almost every time lol. then we went in bed and did the usual. but this is where a problem started. so we were kissing and touching and stuff and i accidentally moaned calebs name AJKSFADSJFAEJKF i felt SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO bad 

he was like “what was that?” and i was like “what?” and he was like “what did you say?” and i was like “nothing” and he was like “it sounded like you said caleb” so then i apologized like a million times lol he said it was ok as long as it didnt happen again. but still i felt sooooo bad about it. i apologized again later on in the night and he said its ok and not to dwell on it lol. idek why i said it bc joel is more attractive than caleb both in terms of looks and personality. i had the same problem when i was with caleb too smh whenever i was w caleb i had to fight the urge to say freddies name. so yeah that was the one mistake ive made so far

so then i tried to make it up to him by sucking his dick. then i also ate his ass and fingered him. now THAT made me horny omg eating his ass was so much fun and his hole was so pretty and fingering him was super fun too! he was nice and tight and he was REALLY enjoying it which made me like it even more! so then i basically fingered him while sucking his dick/jerking him off until he came and it was honestly a religious experience omg he looked SO hot

then we fell asleep again lol but this time i had to wake up earlier bc i had work. work was good bc i got 3 credit cards and my manager sarah was happy about it. but i got SOOOO angry towards the end like we closed at 7 and a whole crowd of people came in at 6:55 and the line was so long even after we closed and when i finally got my last customer she ended up being the most difficult one of the day i hated herrrrrr omg she had like a million returns all w dif receipts and it was even more annoying bc we have to put away the returns along w the go backs after closing so she just gave me even more work to do

then on sunday joel said we shouldnt hang out that night bc we needed to pace ourselves. i was fine w that bc obv i missed him but logically speaking going slow is prob the best thing to do so we dont burn out too quickly. he did text me a lot that night though lol he was not afraid to tell me how much he missed me lol it was cute. then on monday afternoon i saw my therapist and told her all about my new thing w joel and i talked about the doubts i had about it and we had a v good session!

then came last night/today. so this time i got there around like 9pm. i was happy bc it was so easy driving on the parkway this time i was like wow this is actually kinda fun but then i had so much trouble finding parking smh like i can never just have one completely good drive! so i got there and said hi to 2 of his roommates who were in the living room/kitchen area. we went into his room and we watched finding dory and it was so cute! i prob wouldnt have enjoyed it by myself but it was fun watching it while cuddling w him. then there was like a centipede type thing on his ceiling and i was about to die omg he sprayed it w lysol and it fell but he couldnt find it so he thought it would die soon but then later on in the movie it touched his foot and i had to get away while he killed it for good. then later that night when we were in bed there was another bug on his wall smh but this one was easy for him to kill

after the movie he pulled up these youtube videos from this dance show his schools theatre honor society did and made me watch all the songs w him in them. it was honestly really boring im not gonna lie akjfhadshfkfskdjabhd but it was nice seeing him dance and stuff i guess. there was one point where there was a guy in the performance and he was like “oh he had such a nice ass, when i first saw him i was like whoa” like...once again ok caleb like that is not really information i needed to hear. or when this other guy was in the performance and he was like “oh he was my roommate that year, he was one hot piece of ass” like again i really do not need to hear this

then we went in his bed and it was nice! i ate his ass again and this time he ate my ass as well and i ended up cumming this time and i started like laughing uncontrollably after i came idk why lol but it was fun. we fell asleep and this time we could sleep in so it was nice. we kept waking up and kissing and cuddling and stuff. we ended up getting up for real at like 2pm. then he wanted to watch friends so we did that and then he played overwatch while i watched and cuddled him and touched his belly. then we were just laying in bed again and then i had to go back home for dinner. he offered me cereal or oatmeal when he had a bagel for breakfast but im not comfortable eating in front of him yet and i also hate imposing on people so i lied and said i wasnt hungry even though i was starving ashjfadkfhdskjn

so now for the bad parts. so like joel has not shown any signs of being anything but completely 100% interested in me and he has shown no signs of stopping soon yet i cant stop feeling like he just likes me now bc this is new and then he’ll get bored and leave when he gets to know me better. bc thats basically what caleb did and like i have no proof that joel will do it too but i cant get over the feeling unfortunately :/ like honestly out of our 3 dates so far i was kinda tempted to just cancel and then never talk to him again for 2 of them just to end things now so it doesnt get messy later. but my therapist said im not psychic so i shouldnt try to predict the future without any evidence so i am trying to just push the feeling to the back of my mind

now for my next issue: our relationship status. so joel said when we first talked on scruff that he didnt want a relationship but his actions have said otherwise. like he said he wants to take things slow bc he wants to make this work and he keeps saying he wants me to be his and stuff like that and he seems v interested in me beyond just as a friend w benefits. so idk what exactly he wants bc even if he changes his mind and wants to be bfs w me idk if i want to bc i dont want to make him feel “suppressed” again like he said about his past relationship history. so yeah as of now im not taking it too seriously and am just trying to enjoy myself without really thinking of how our situation is going to develop

now for my next issue: his past relationships. he told me the one time he like REALLY fell in love w a guy was w this online long distance relationship. this relationship actually ended very badly for him. but the issue to me is how it began. joel said he met this online guy WHILE he (joel) already had a boyfriend and that he developed feelings for this online guy while he was still w his bf at the time. he said he felt bad about it which is nice i guess. but the way i see it is that if he did this once he can very well do it again and i dont want to be the current boyfriend when that happens. like i honestly cant relate at all bc im the type who doesnt even really check out other guys when im currently bfs w someone. not everyone is like this obv so i cant be mad at him if hes the type to still be attracted to other men. but like, to actually develop feelings for someone else (and not just have it be a physical attraction) while currently bfs w someone? that is just disgusting imo and when he told me this i told him like im ngl thats messed up. so yeah that makes me even more hesitant to be in a relationship w him since he might meet another guy when hes with me and fall in love with him instead. so yeah this is just another thing to note in the back of my mind

and now for something i have mixed feelings about. on sunday he texted me to let me know he deleted all his dating apps yesterday bc he wanted to to focus on pursuing me and he wanted to be preemptive about it bc he didnt want to have any “temptations.” honestly it was cute at first but then i went to delete mine and looked on scruff and it said he was online 10 hours ago but he said he deleted it yesterday! so i asked him about it and he was like “oh yeah i redownloaded them this morning just to check them one last time” like ????????? honestly it was just funny to me bc like why did he tell me deleted his dating apps like it was some big thing if he was just gonna redownload them the next day nnnnnnnnn and like he didnt tell me about the redownloading part so he just wanted me to believe he deleted them yesterday? like idgi what was the point of that lol i think he wanted to do something to look sweet but it just ended up backfiring lmao. also he said he deleted the apps but he didnt delete his profiles so idk what to make of that but honestly i really dont care ive known this guy for 5 days afhkjafkhdaskn it was just kinda funny to me

but this next part is worrisome. its what he said about resisting tempations. like it wouldve been fine if he just said like “i am pursuing you so theres no reason for me to still be on dating apps” but like saying he “didnt want any tempations” so its like...hes admitting that its possible for him to be tempted? like as i said im not tempted by other guys at all like if i am with a man it is just him and only him for me. so idk again it seemed like he was trying to gain points w me by saying that but it just made me even more suspicious. again im not making too much of a big deal over it bc its not that serious yet but its just something for me to keep in my mind bc my therapist said this is the stage where i should be doing research and making note of things that could be red flags and stuff. so *tiffany pollard voice* ive been doing a little research

like it doesnt seem THAT bad on its own but when you combine the temptations thing w his past relationship history stuff it does make it seem like its very possible for him to show so much interest in me now and get with me only to decide he likes another guy more. so yeah for these reasons i am not putting too much stock into whatever we have rn bc im not quite sure yet whether i want to pursue a relationship with him

and i have one more thing. as ive mentioned before joel is good at EVERYTHING. he is good at orgo, playing a bunch of instruments, choreography, makeup, studying, video games, staying on top of his career goals, cooking, and he has a higher gpa than me. i am trying not to be competitive but its honestly really fucking annoying that he is better than me at literally everything! like i wish i just had one thing i could beat him at. i dont want to let it get to me but regardless of how i want to feel the fact of the matter is that i dont like it when people are better than me at anything in general, so when someone is better than me at like everything it REALLY gets on my nerves

and another thing. like all 3 of our dates so far have just been us two alone in his room. i have yet to see how good we are together in like social situations. like w caleb we got along perfectly fine when we were alone just hanging out but the problems started w like going out and doing social things like that. so i need to see what his needs are socially and how compatible our lifestyles are before i can fully devote myself bc if he has the same needs as caleb i most likely wont be able to keep up which will put a strain on the relationship

so those are my issues with the situation so far. i said those first bc i wanted to end on a good note! so now i can move on to the good stuff

joel is honestly really really nice and he gives me soooo much attention and he seems very interested in me atm. he loves my appearance AND he loves my personality and for once it seems like we equally enjoy being with each other instead of me liking the other person way more than they like me. and we have so many common interests and like i dont feel nervous at all when im talking to him! and like he misses me soooo much its so cute! and his personality is just like my fave like it just makes me wanna squeeze him! and hes so funny and like its so cute like if i make a joke and he says like get out or leave or something and im like ok and start to get up hes like “no no dont!!!” and like latches onto me and it is soooooooooo cute. and i literally cannot keep my hands off his hair (and also his ass and tum tbh). and since he lives w his 3 roommates theres no parents to worry about! and he just makes me really happy like i cannot be sad around him and hes so bubbly and he always uses so many heart emojis and calls me nice things like babe and my love and sweetheart and yeah just like he is literally checking off every box rn. all the problems i listed before are somewhat significant but overall i really like him so far so i def want to keep seeing him. and he already lives v close to his school so its not like i need to worry about him leaving anytime soon! and hes really nice like i really liked caleb at first as well (since the problems only really started towards the end of our relationship) but i already like joel way more than i liked caleb! and its nice bc like everyone kept saying when caleb broke up w me that i would find someone way better than him but it was kinda hard to believe at the time but everyone was right! i like joel soooooo much so far and if any guy ive met so far has been boyfriend material its definitely him