#her vocals weren't the best but

[because-its-eurovision]

I am soooo happy for Finland and Erikaaaa!! I'm really hoping that the staging stays the same, she has so much stage presence, it's incredible, I'd only add some fire for the ESC performance so it can be more effective

Me toooo!! ✨ She's so lovely and charismatic 💗 The choreography, staging and styling have major rockstar energy, I love it

I was actually surprised by how tame the performance it was but maybe Yle was scared to go overboard or be too literal considering the lyrics are already quite raunchy 😄

Also idk if they are going to be able to bring the giant mic stand to Basel as props hanging from the ceiling are sometimes problematic to execute at Eurovision. I was maybe also missing some dancers? In any case Yle has now proven four years in a row that they can fix and upgrade the stagings between UMK and ESC so I have no worries at this point

anyway. QUEEN

[tokidokifish]

🤔 i dunno if i agree w this reading, honestly - not necessarily of julian in general, but more specifically his relationship with leeta, bc she's so singular in terms of julian's relationships. you talked about how he was most interested in her when he was trying to seduce her/pursue her, but leeta is like his one on-screen romance where he isn't doing most of the initial legwork - she's quite visibly and immediately into him, approaching him with this incredibly fake cough that she wants him to check out, and i think the "go away" padd was more in response to the fact that he was enjoying hitting it off with this woman.

and julian might not have been upset about the relationship ending, but like... neither was leeta (and of course she would have been the one that would have put forth the fun "weekend fuck fest" breakup option) - which was actually pretty refreshing, since it made it come off like these were two adults, in an adult relationship, that had apparently had some frank and honest conversations and realized it was time to break up. honestly i think, as opposed to having any deep, meaningful implications on what julian was like as a person in a relationship, a more immediate reading - given how we like never see their relationship at all - is they just had a fun, casual thing going on, which ended when leeta wanted to move on to someone she was actually developing feelings for.

ooc, i'm almost positive this is because they never planned to have leeta be a permanent thing for julian - which is fuckin sad, honestly! she had a lot of depth to her character, and it would have been fun to see how they actually interact. maybe their relationship could have lasted if they were actually allowed to be in one. as it is, it was so nothing on both sides that they could have said that her hooking up w him was a one-time thing and i would have believed it just as much as them being in an off-screen relationship for a year.

Julian and Leeta's relationship is weird because they were together for about a year. She is far and away his longest canon girlfriend (aside from offscreen Palis). And… well, it's not that he seems like a "bad" boyfriend; he just never seems much more than generally fond of her. When they break up, he's more or less ambivalent- he's really only upset that she's into ROM of all people.

And I feel like this does a couple of things for me.

I feel like I better understand him and his ex-fiance now. Like I think if Leeta hadn't broken up with him, he would have just stayed with her and been reasonably happy. Maybe even proposed one day, because why not? She's the one to end the relationship, but at no point while they're together do I get the feeling that he's... particularly into her at all.

In fact, the periods he was the most into her is when he was trying to seduce her (see: the PADD with the "go away" on it)

It really clarified for me that I think it's just that he's fundamentally a chaser. He likes the hunt. Not just with women (although that's what we're talking about). He's just a striver; he wants to win awards, he wants to learn and do hard things, he wants to cure impossible diseases. In fact, my whole theory is that Sarina is a literal manifestation of this- she is not only a challenging medical puzzle but also slightly distant from him.

I think Julian really prefers people when he's chasing them. Once he has them, I think they bore him a bit. He doesn't leave them, but he's so generally detached that they eventually leave him (or he fucks off to run away and join the Space Circus).

Even with Ezri- he claims to be "passionately in love with her" (in THE most deadpanned tone I've ever heard. I literally laughed when he said it bc I thought he was kidding), but once they're together, it seems like he's already detached. Their whole conversation at the very end when they're discussing what Holosuit program to use, it was just very... Not engaged.

Idk- it's interesting because I was thinking the other day about whether or not Julian is "good" with women- and offscreen, he seems like he's doing great. We get tons of throw-away lines about him dating and banging tons of women. But he's a disaster on screen because he's generally pursuing women he actually wants to date on screen, and these are women who typically reject him.

Just an interesting character trait, and incidentally (not to make this about Garak), I think that is another reason why their relationship might be the only one Julian could ever find long-term happiness in. No matter how much of Garak he ever has (and it might one day be a lot), it will never be the whole thing. There will always be something to hunt for. Some mystery that has been left unsaid. It would be enough to keep him actually interested.

Anyway! Just a theory- what does The Internet think?

[evilsanlang]

I'm sure most of you who were following the Grammys weren't aware, but their treatment of Milton Nascimento, one of the greatest brazilian artists in history, was deplorable. While they granted Esperanza Spalding, whom he shared the nomination for Best Jazz Vocal Album with, a place among the "main" artists there, Milton Nascimento, this 82 year old black legend who shaped brazilian music, was expected to sit back at the benches.

Esperanza's team questioned this decision and were told "the tables were only for artists they wanted in video"; meaning, they did not think he was important enough, as she put it in her message of support for Milton (and also very kindly brought a poster with his picture written 'this living legend should be seated here!' to the table with her).

Truly cannot think of a more blatant example of how antiblackness & US imperialism interact. Black brazilians are dogs to our own people, and to americans, not even the most accomplished of us is even worth thinking about.

If nothing else, listen to Milton Nascimento. I'm not asking

[satorusugurugurl]

We Can Be Louder

Summary: When staying in a hotel, a couple next door is a little too loud— but you and Nanami can be louder.

Characters: Nanami Kento x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: hotel smut, unprotected sex, loud, vocal, moans, dirty talk, p in v, creampie, language

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: I have a mighty need to grope Nanami’s butt rawr! 💚💚💚

“Ooooooh God,” a high pitched voice rang from the hotel room right next to you. “Oh God, baby fuck.” Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look back at the wall behind you. The sound of their bed slamming against the wall was almost deafening and powerful enough to cause your own bed to shake.

The sound of their phony moans made your nose turn up in sympathy for the girl and embarrassment from how loud they were. Nanami sat beside you in bed, placing his book down as the moans grew louder. From the whimpers and grunts, you had an inkling that this was not going to last long for them. Your best guess was that it was a young college couple; maybe it was their first time, or they weren't as experienced. Your hypothesis was all focused on the girl who was practically moaning like a porn star. It's wholly fake and unnatural.

“She’s faking it,” You announced to Kento as you took a sip of your wine, “and the poor guy has no idea that she is.” Nanami chuckled, furrowing his eyebrows as he placed his bookmark in place, turning to watch you closely. “I bet you twenty bucks he doesn't last longer than five minutes.”

“Oh, Love,” Nanami chuckled deeply, the sound igniting a fire inside you. “It's going to end way faster than that.”

“Oooh, my goodness, Ken, what makes you say that?”

“Nngh!” the stranger next door shouted as the bed started creaking again. “D-Don’t squeeze so t-tight!”

The corner of Nanami’s mouth twitched as he fought against a grin. “That right there speaks volumes.”

You found yourself unable to focus on your book, more intrigued by the young couple next door. You kept stealing glances at the wall, listening in on their not-so-quiet conversation. The girl kept screaming, ‘Oh my God, ’ while her companion kept asking questions like, ‘Oh yeah?’ and ‘You like that baby?’ It was quite entertaining. They both were inexperienced, unsure of what to say in bed, only having porn or books to use as a reference as to what sex would be like. They were mixing fiction into reality.

The bed pounding got faster and louder. “Oh,” you laughed, “he’s gonna finish soon.” Nanami laughed as you fist pumped in the air to the sound of the bed frame being slammed into the wall.

“I’m gonna-” the young man shouted, “I’m gonna blow my load!” You choked on your wine at his declaration, the alcohol coming out of your nose. “Oooooooh fuck!!!” You covered your mouth, coughing roughly as the man moaned loudly. It wasn’t short after that the girl gave a very poor performance of her own orgasm. Apparently, she didn’t want him to feel bad that she hadn’t finished with him. The moans that had barely started died down, leaving you and Nanami staring at the wall with sympathy. Glancing down at your watch, you grinned, holding it out for Nanami to see. “Five minutes on the spot.”

He shook his head, laughing slightly, “Pretty good for a first time; I can’t tell you how long I lasted my first time.” He grabbed his glass of wine and drank before running his tongue over his lips. “I’m relatively certain the girl I was with just laid there awkwardly.”

“Yeah,” you turned on your side, looking up at him, “my first time was at this guy's house. I was so excited to do it finally.” You held your fist, putting a single finger up as you spoke. “There was hardly any kissing, we undressed ourselves, no foreplay, he got on top, and it was over in literally one minute.”

“This is the part where you tell me you’re kidding me, right?”

“Nope, one minute was all I got. Hell, I didn’t have my first real orgasm until I was twenty-two.”

“Well, that’s unfair,” he put his book down on the nightstand. “what do you say we make up for that first time?” You giggled, grinning ear to ear as Nanami undid the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll make sure to give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Make up for the ones you’ve had to fake all those years ago.”

You lay flat on your back as Nanami removed his shirt, dropping it to the ground. Slowly, he crawled on top of you, looking at you as if you were his prey. There was a dark and needy gleam in his eyes that caused your breath to catch in your throat. You knew right there that it would be a long, sweaty night with him. He began running his long fingers underneath your nightgown. He slowly pushed the silky fabric up, bunching it at your hips. His lips slowly pressed kisses along the inside of your thighs as you ran your finger through his hair, tugging it softly.

A growl that was full of desire escaped his lips as he tugged the nightgown off all the way, throwing it across the room. Before you knew it, he was pulling his pajama pants off, exposing his hardened erection. Licking your lips, you spread your legs open, giving him a better view of your body that he loved. His eyes wandered down, taking you all in, inch by inch, before he grabbed both your legs, putting them over his shoulders. Your mouth suddenly went dry as the head of his cock brushed against your opening.

“God, you’re soaking wet.” He whispered, rocking his hips slowly, the swollen head of his throbbing cock brushed gently against your clit. “I need you. I need to make up for the first time.” Rolling your eyes, you rocked back against him, moaning at the pleasurable sensations rushing through your pussy.

“Nanami, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so yes, every time we have sex, it’s better than my first time.” You dangled your feet over his shoulders, the head of his cock pressed firmly against your opening. “So what do you say? You stop teasing me and fuck me already. Let’s show these college kids how it’s done.”

He chuckled before kissing you deeply and pressing his forehead against yours. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Slowly he pushed into you, his cock slipping past your slick folds, stretching your walls. The sensation left you moaning loudly as you gripped the sheets underneath you. You squeezed around his cock, taking all of him inside of you as he pressed against your cervix. “Fuck Love,” he groaned, nipping at your lip, “no matter how many times we do this, I’ll never get over how good you feel.” As soon as he was entirely inside of you, his body relaxed. The two of you relished in the feeling of each other's skin.

His hands traced over your body, his hands groping your breasts before sliding down and running down the curves of your body. You mirrored his actions, trailing your hands down his bare and muscular back. Your nails grazed him softly before meeting the fat of his ass. It was at this moment that he pulled out of you, looking into your eyes before he plunged back into you. You cried out, your head falling against the pillows, and your lips parted. His thrusts left your eyes watering at the intense sensation. Nanami hissed, repeating the action several times, each thrust harder than the previous one. The intensity of the rhythm had sweat beading against his neck and over his chest as sweat ran down your own collarbone, trailing over the swells of your breasts.

Your hands grope his ass, allowing you to feel it flex with each thrust in and out of your tight wet pussy. With each push of his hips, the bed slams into the wall behind you. With each thrust that was angeled right against your g-spot, you screamed. As your screams increased in volume, Kento slammed his lips against yours as you cried out in pleasure, shouting his name to the heavens. You wanted everyone in the hotel to know who was fucking you this good. Who was exploring and ravishing your body, treating you like a goddess. When you were with Nanami, it was like experiencing heaven on earth. It was so surreal and so perfect.

The bed slammed harder into the wall as Nanami’s grunts and growls of pleasure grew louder. Your name was like a curse on his lips; it came out like a hiss, a groan, and a gasp. His name escaped your lips like a prayer as you begged him to make you feel good.

“Nanami! Oh fuck Kento!” He stared down at you, smirking at your moans. “Fuck me, baby! Fuck me harder!” He captured your lips against his, his hips hauling harder as he lifted one of your legs in the air. “Oh my God!” you cried out, your eyes rolling back as his cock slammed into your cervix.

“You like that, Love? You like my cock buried deep inside of you?”

‘Y-Yes Ken!” You cried out, digging your fingers into the skin of his arms, “I love it! I love it when you fuck me!”

“That’s my girl,” you clenched harder around him. “Oh darling, are you going to cum already? Cum all over my thick hard cock?” The pleasure inside began to tighten along with the coil in your lower abdomen. Nanami reached down, rubbing your clit as he continued to thrust. Your inner walls throbbed around him as the tightening coil within you threatened to snap at any given second. “Don’t hold back, cum for me, Love, cum for me.” Another brush against your clit had the coil in your abdomen snapped, sending you over the edge.

“Kento!!” You screamed, your walls clenching down around his cock. They fluttered as the immense pleasure rushed through you. Causing your body to wither and jerk underneath him, nails digging into his skin as you came. “Oh my God!”

“Love, fuck nngh!!” He grunted, hips stilling as he came deep within you. You shuddered, mouth falling agape as you felt hot spurts of cum coat your walls. “Oh fuck!” Kento let your leg go before he collapsed on top of you. His chest heaved as he pressed kisses along your shoulder before burying his face against your skin, remaining there.

As he lay on top of you, mumbling how much he loved you, you couldn’t help but smile. Glancing down at your left ring finger, you giggled happily. The ring glimmered in the low lights of the hotel suite. Only two days into your honeymoon, it has been amazing so far. It was a reminder that this was how the rest of your life would be. You and Nanami in bed together, going on trips, loving your loves to the fullest.

“Say, Mrs. Nanami?” Nanami grumbled, lifting his head to look at you. You pushed some hair out of his face, pressing your lips together.

“Yes, Mr. Nanami?”

“Let’s put our books away for the rest of tonight; I would much rather spend the night here inside of you.” He trailed his calloused fingers over your sensitive skin. His request fluttered your heart as you kissed his forehead, nodding in response to his question. “Good, let’s see how long it’ll take for the couple next door to regret getting the room next to the honeymoon suite~.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[kaleldobrev]

Tattoos

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Platonic Pairing(s): Venetia Catton & F. Reader | Farleigh Start & F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Felix Catton, Venetia Catton, Farleigh Start & Oliver Quick

Summary: Not only are you dating Felix and best friends with Venetia, the three of you have matching tattoos — something that Oliver simply cannot stand

Word Count: 967

Warnings: Voyeurism (briefly mentioned), Nudity (implied — as this takes place in the field), Unprotected sex (briefly mentioned/implied)

Authors Note: I love the little detail that Felix and Venetia have those matching star tattoos on their hands, so I came up with this little fic about how reader has matching tattoos with both Catton siblings (cause I honestly feel like that’s such a Felix and Venetia thing to do) | This is also my first ever Saltburn fic so I’m hoping that I was able to do the characters justice | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Oliver couldn’t help but stare at the small crescent moon tattoo on your ankle; the exact same crescent moon tattoo that both Felix and Venetia had — and in the exact same place — the right ankle.

He wasn’t…jealous, no that wasn’t the right word, but that was the only word that came to mind for him. He didn’t want a tattoo, was never a fan of them on himself, but, seeing you in particular with this tattoo was hitting him, hitting him harder than he’d particularly like to admit. You weren’t family — you were Venetia’s best friend and Felix’s…girlfriend. He understood the little stars that Venetia and Felix had — they were siblings and had an intense unique bond. But you…you were nobody to them less than 5 years ago. But here you here, the three of you with matching tattoos and you strutting around the estate like you were already a Catton.

He must have been staring in one direction for too long, as he heard Felix's voice calling out to him. "You alright there Ollie?" He asked, and Oliver found himself snapping out of whatever trance like state he had just been in.

“I’m f—I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound a little bit more confident than he currently felt in this moment.

When Felix spoke, not only did he turn to look at him, but you, Venetia, and Farleigh did as well. “Are you sure?” You asked, genuinely concerned about his well-being. Oh, how he despised how much you truly seemed to care.

"You've been staring off into space," Felix added. "What'ya staring at?" He asked, placing the lollipop he had been sucking on back into his mouth.

"Probably Y/N's ass," Farleigh teased, and you swatted his arm playfully; giggling briefly. Your laugh disgusted him because of how sickingly sweet it sounded.

"Farleigh, I'm sure he wasn't," you said defending him. You turned your attention to him, a soft smile on your lips. "Isn't that right Ollie?" You asked. He could barely see your face between the combination of the bright sun and your giant sunglasses that seemed to take up the entirety of your face, similarly to that of Venetia's sunglasses.

"Yeah, wasn't...staring," Ollie answered; his vocal tone sounding a tad nervous; and a little embarrassed. He wasn't looking at you, not in that way; you weren't the reason he was here, Felix was.

"I wouldn't blame ya Ollie," Felix began. "She does have a nice one," he finished, his voice almost sounding proud as he smacked your bare rear in front of the four of you.

You let out a tiny yelp; not the usual kind of moan you usually let out whenever he's heard you and Felix have sex. "Get a room you two," Venetia said, briefly glancing up from her book.

"We have a whole estate love," you winked; both you and Felix started laughing in response.

"Not when I'm still living here," she added.

"I second that," Farleigh said, chiming back into the conversation as he raised his hand in agreement with Venetia.

"Prudes," you mumbled underneath your breath, slightly teasing.

"Hey!" Venetia exclaimed. It was her turn to playfully swat you. "If anyone is the prude, it's little Ollie over there." She grinned. "Ollie, when was the last time you had sex?"

"V!" Both Felix and you exclaimed.

"What?" Venetia asked, her tone slightly clueless.

"You cannot just ask people that. It's a little rude," you stated.

"It's not rude. It's a perfectly fine question," she defended. "For example," she began, turning her attention to her brother. "Felix, when was the last time you had sex?" A smallish grin forming on her lips; as if she already knew the answer to her question.

"This morning," he responded all too quickly, and you swatted him on the chest, which caused him to smirk at you in response. Oliver knew all too well the truth in that statement, as he had a slight front row seat to yours and Felix's morning activities. He didn't see anything, but he heard everything as if he was in the room with the two of you. The moans the both of you let out, the dirty talk the both of you shared — performing in such a way as if the two of you were the only two in the entire estate. He wanted so much to see it, to open the bedroom door, he knew that the door would have creaked — pressing his ear against the bedroom door sufficed...for now anyway.

"Kinky," Farleigh smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

"All of you are ridiculous," you stated, closing your book as you started to slowly kick your feet in the air. "Don't answer her Ollie."

"It was before uni," he mumbled.

"What'ya say Ollie?" Felix asked, raising a brow.

"Before uni," Oliver said a bit louder this time.

Felix and Venetia exchanged looks before Felix looked at him with a slightly devilish looking grin. It was impossible not to love any kind of smile he would give. "For your party tomorrow, we'll get you laid. It'll be my birthday present to you."

"Kind of a lame birthday present, love," you teased.

Felix let out a small laugh. "You weren't complaining when that was a part of your birthday gift last year," he teased back. That's when he leaned in, kissing you in the most loving way possible; and Oliver actually felt like he was on the verge of throwing up looking at the two of you. He had witnessed the two of you kissing plenty of times, had witnessed snippets of you two being intimate in various ways, but for some reason, this particular interaction had almost set him off. Felix was so madly in love with you that it physically pained him to see it.

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[annabelle--cane]

i wasn’t here when tma reached the height of its popularity (i only joined last year) so could you describe the Vibes (how bad the drama was, did it feel like there were too many people, etc.)

only if you want to :]

I've said this before, so this may be a familiar spiel to longer term followers, but 2020 tma fandom was honestly not the worst fandom I've ever been in, it was just by far the biggest thing I have ever been actively into at peak popularity and so the 1% of insane people that are found in every fan space were 1% of a much bigger total population. most people were fine and chill, but there were a vocal minority who Weren't.

major ingredients in the discourse pot:

from my observations, tma had a small but devoted listener base for its first few years, then it got a little bump in mid 2018, then a considerable bump in late 2019, then hit proper virality in early 2020, so there were a lot of people with hipster complexes about being Real Fans who were there first and weren't just part of the masses.

at this point I'm not even sure if this part was true, but the above was compounded by the perception that the earlier og listener base were mostly adults and the new wave of fans were mostly tweens and teens. whether the different waves actually fell along those age lines or not, a lot of people felt like the fandom was split into 80% Cringe Zoomers Who Are Here For Ships And Memes and 20% Millennials and Gen X'ers With Media Literacy Who Are Here For Horror. nice dichotomy, idiot, now what lies outside it, etc and such and such. our blessed fandom etiquette vs their barbarous dni lists.

which isn't to say that suddenly having a huge number of people, including young people, become interested in a single piece of media at a time of global stress where everyone had to be much more online and the content of the media itself was at its darkest and most socially relevant had no downsides. oh no. Oh No.

"my headcanon is not only objectively the best headcanon but it actually invalidates all of yours and if you hc something different then it's an act of bigotry against my Correct Headcanon." / "I have drawn up a list of Good Characters you have to like and aren't allowed to criticize and a list of Bad Characters you have to hate and can't acknowledge exist unless it's to make fun of and completely condemn them." / "I saw her username in the kudos of a jonelias fic" "girl what were YOU doing in the kudos of a jonelias fic" / "this latest episode handled a social issue unforgivably badly, I haven't experienced it myself but the vibes were off, everyone demand accountability and boycott the rest of the show" "hey that one was actually based on jonny's personal experiences" "ah fuck not again. well boys let's remember this for next time. this latest epis--"

honestly most of the discourse was down to like two or three friend groups. there was one group of people who you will probably remember if you were there at the time whom I have sometimes seen referred to as the Clown Gang. Clown Gang were ground zero for a good 90% of fan discourse ("hcing melanie as ace is ableist and lesbophobic" "fan content that focuses on jon's asexuality is biphobic. what's pansexuality I've never heard of it." "desolation tim aus are inherently ableist and racist"), but eventually they had a big falling out with Clown Prime and things calmed down. to be very clear I hold no ill will towards any of these people for four year old bad takes, hence why I'm not using any names, but god was it a time.

and this is only about the tumblr side of things. I was barely active of twitter so idk what it was like there but I was on tiktok for about a year during that time and the vibes were wildly different. iirc people there were less confrontational and there wasn't really a callout culture like on tumblr, but the extremes of the takes were FAR worse.

[avatar-anna]

Champagne Problems

so...this is super long, the longest fic i've written in a hot minute. like 18.k words long. i wasn't going to post it until part two was underway, but i'm kind of excited to share it. here is the aftermath of champagne problems...

Part Two

*.*

"Don Perignon, you bought it, no crowd of friends applauded, your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems."

Your fingers moved across the keys of the grand piano as you mumbled softly to yourself, only loud enough that the voice recorder on your phone would pick up on it. This wasn't your typical method of songwriting, you weren't even sure there was a song to actually write; but the melody had been haunting you for days, pressing against your mind until you finally sat down and played it.

It wasn't often you thought of the events that occurred a year and a half ago. You usually did everything in your power not to think about that night, knowing that nothing ever good came out of dwelling on that particular wrinkle of your past. You only looked forward, sometimes hoping that if you didn't think about what happened, your memories of the worst night of your life would eventually disappear from your mind altogether.

But there was something about this melody that brought that night to the forefront of your memory. You'd played it over and over on the piano for a few minutes, waiting for the words to come. Your mind kept circling back to the past, and after trying to avoid it, you finally let emotion win out. No one was in the studio with you anyway, it would be safe to unlock that particular box. Just for a few minutes.

"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked up in the head," you said to yourself, the last part coming out as an afterthought. You laughed a little to yourself, remembering the disapproving stares and the whispers behind your back that people always thought went unnoticed by you. "But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shed."

Despite knowing that leaving your would-be fiance was the right choice for you, breaking up with him was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It still hurt to remember that night, to recall the look of absolute devastation on his face when you stopped him from reaching into his pocket for the little velvet box you knew was in there. He didn't deserve to be wrecked so thoroughly, especially by someone like you. He had been sweet and kind and gentlemanly. He treated you like a princess and defended you to his family when they didn't approve. He was everything a man should've been to you and more.

And all you could do in return was prove his family right.

You stopped murmuring lyrics for a moment, letting that last thought float through the empty room on somber notes. You thought about your ex now, wondering where he was now and hoping he was well. You hoped he was in love and happy, that he'd forgotten all about you. He deserved all the best things that love could grant a person. You wanted that for him. You wanted someone who had the capacity for the kind of love he wanted to give.

Repeating the last few lines again, the next few thoughts came pouring out of you, the words carrying a bittersweet taste to them.

"Your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my Champagne problems."

The song tapered off soon after that, and you realized there was nothing left in you to say. You felt lighter afterwards, as if pushing some of those long-forgotten memories out of you and onto the grand piano eased the weight you'd been carrying around on your shoulders for the last eighteen months. Quickly stopping the recording, you set a reminder on your phone to listen to it tomorrow and write down everything you'd said. The recording itself was lengthy, long pauses stretching between lyrics as you worked through your memories and attempted to vocalize them. Hopefully something was there to actually mold into verses and a chorus, if not, it was a rather odd but surprisingly satisfying therapy session.

Gathering your things into the bag at your feet, you stood up from the piano, stretching your arms above your head. It was easy to get lost in a good melody, but your poor body always paid the price if you spent too much time bent over a guitar or piano.

It was as you stretched that you realized someone was at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching as you shouldered your bag and slipped your shoes back on your socked feet. He didn't say anything as you walked over to him, just stepped out of the way so you could walk out of the studio. Harry normally wasn't this quiet, in fact, he could be quite the chatterbox if the mood struck him. But his silence told you he'd probably heard more of your session than you would've liked. Because one thing Harry liked to do in all his chattering was pepper you with questions about yourself, which was annoying since you were constantly trying to have him not get to know you.

"Coffee?" was all he said as you walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The sleeve of his patterned sweater brushed against your arm, and you resisted the urge to lean into him. He always wore the coziest clothes when in the studio, and it made you want to walk just a little bit closer to his side, for no other reason than the feel of soft material on your arm and not the person wearing them.

Nodding, you said, "Sure."

Harry qucikly pressed the button when you reached the elevator, and you couldn't help but laugh a little. In the time you'd spent not getting to know him, you discovered that he was the kind of person that just had to press the elevator buttons. It didn't matter how many people he was with, it was like he took joy in something as simple as getting to press a button and watch it light up beneath his finger. He'd actually speed-walked to get ahead of you a couple times just so he could press the down button. It was kind of annoying, and perhaps a little childish, but you'd surprisingly grown to find it endearing. A quirk of Harry's that just made him who he was.

The ride down the elevator was quiet, and it wasn't until you were out on the street that he finally spoke. "I'm thinking about getting a pet."

You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable questions about the song you'd been recording, and when they didn't come, your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, though you were sure Harry noticed. "Really?"

"Yeah. All my friends are disgustingly in love," Harry said with a playful shudder. "I'm feeling like a third wheel most days, so I thought I would seek companionship of the furry variety. Wait, that came out wrong. I didn't mean—"

You chuckled at his stuttering, at the flush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks. "I know what you mean," you said, sparing him any more embarrassment. "So what are you thinking then? Dog? Cat? Hamster?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing," he said, quickly recovering from his chagrin. "I'm not sure I have the time necessary to devote to training a puppy, but I'm also worried about getting a cat and it absolutely hating me, and..."

You listened as Harry explained in great detail the pros and cons of each kind of domestic animal one could have. He spoke animatedly with his hands, looking at you with those big green eyes of his, as if to make sure you were following his train of thought.

You never planned on befriending Harry, and even now you weren't sure that whatever was going on between you was considered a friendship. You'd always been the type to keep to yourself, especially after what happened with your ex. You'd not only lost him after the break up, but friends too, friends who thought that what you did to your ex was despicable and reprehensible and not worth keeping a friendship over, picking sides when you hadn't realized there were any. It hurt to lose so many people in one fell swoop, and you decided soon after that you were better off alone. Except for your brothers of course, but all of you kept so busy that it was hard to keep track of one another on a good day.

Outside of them, you realized it was hard to hurt someone when there was no one around you to hurt.

But Harry was different. You'd seen him around the building where you worked on your songs—in the hallways, waiting for the elevator (after pushing the button, of course), at the vending machine, on your way out of the studio or while he was entering it to start his session. The first thing you noticed was that he was never alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The first thing you really noticed was his smile, how it lit up his entire face and showcased the most adorable dimples you'd ever seen. But since you refused to admit that, the first thing you noticed was that he was never alone.

Harry was always coming and going with one or two or sometimes three people around him. He was always engaged in some kind of conversation, his head always turned as he listened aptly to what his friend was saying. It seemed so odd to you that he was hardly ever by himself. It was like a foreign language to you, and you imagined your constant solitude felt the same to him.

"Anytime you want to weigh in here would be great."

"If you want a pet, get one," you said simply.

Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door to the coffee shop a couple blocks down the street from the building where you both worked, as if he was expecting anything other than your usual direct way of speaking. "If you don't keep this conversation going, then I'm going to have to ask about that incredibly depressing song you were working on, so please, indulge me in the great pet debate of twenty-eighteen."

For the most part, Harry was a pretty easy going guy. He had no problem carrying a conversation, and knew when not to pry. As the months went by, though, he knew how to get you to talk, how to find trap doors in the fortified walls you kept around yourself before you even knew they were there. It would be frustrating if his questions didn't always come with an endearing smile.

So you shrugged, eager to steer clear of any topics regarding your past. "I don't know, I'm a little biased. I've always been a dog person. Buddy's my best friend."

"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that I am not your best friend, and second, since when do you have a dog?"

The conversation paused while you and Harry went up to the counter to order you coffees. Both of you went there enough that the staff knew what you liked—dirty chai for you and an americano for him. It also meant you didn't have to deal with the barista having a mini-freak out at the realization that Harry Styles was in their coffee house. People tended to interrupt your conversations with Harry regularly—on the street, in line for coffee, at the table—but he never seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and indulged in a couple minutes of conversation and the occasional picture before waving goodbye. He always apologized to you afterward, but after the first couple times it happened, you waved him off. None of it was actually his fault, and seeing him interact with his fans became something you actually enjoyed watching. And it was perhaps a very small reminder as to why you preferred to just write songs for other artists, not perform them. You didn't need that kind of attention. For Harry, he seemed to come alive like a flower in bloom.

You? You would probably just wilt.

When you and Harry sat down with your drinks, he raised his brows for you to continue. Wrapping your hands around your cup, you shrugged again. "I've had Buddy for about a year now."

"What kind of dog?"

"Mostly pitbull, I think. I found him in an alley behind a restaurant once, and I know what shelters do to pitbulls, so I adopted him."

You'd come to think of the whole thing as Buddy finding you.

"And you named him Buddy?"

"Yeah, I don't know, after Buddy Holly I guess." You'd grown up listening to classic rock because your brothers did, and the name just kind of made sense to you. And he was just so cute, he was your little buddy. Big buddy now, you supposed. You thought he deserved the cutest name for the cutest boy in your life.

The rest of your time in the coffee house was filled with chatter, mostly from Harry. He talked a little more about the Great Pet Debate, then about the project he and his team was working on. An album, though they were only just getting started seeing as Harry just came back from tour. He tried peppering you with the occasional question, knowing if he asked too many you'd clam up and shut down. It was almost like Harry knew that you were fighting getting to know him, but that it wasn't just him, it was everyone. He was patient with you for some reason, though, seemingly content to chip away at the brick walls around you. Even if all he had was a spoon.

"So...What were you working on at the studio?" Harry finally asked.

You knew it was coming, so answering didn't seem so daunting. "I'm not really sure. The melody had been in my head for days, and I finally decided to play around with it."

"A perfect non-answer from Y/n L/n, everyone," Harry said, though you knew he was joking. His eyes were crinkled with mirth as he hid behind his cup, his brows raising to give you a knowing look.

Nothing about your past was easy to talk about, so you just didn't. After your breakup, you didn't even tell your brothers the finer details, not wanting to relive it or face all their questions. It all brought you an overwhelming sense of shame and despair. But maybe there had been something cathartic about your session today and it left you feeling lighter and open because you found yourself sharing more with Harry.

"It...reminded of me and my ex, so I kind of just let it all out. I'm not even sure what I was doing constituted as songwriting, but," you looked down at your mug. "The melody dredged up some old memories, I guess."

"It sounded painful," Harry said, his voice taking on a soft, sincere tone.

You knew he meant well, but the sympathy made you skittish. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Right, of course," Harry said, catching on to your mood change. "Well, um, my friends and I are having a little get-together of sorts this Saturday. You should come."

"A party?"

"No. A get-together. Very different," Harry corrected.

It made sense, the last time Harry tried to invite you to a party his friend was throwing, you politely declined, claiming they weren't really your thing. They weren't, but it was more that having friends wasn't really your thing.

You wanted to say no again, but when you met Harry's eyes, something in you hesitated. His expression was open, earnest, like he would genuinely be upset if you said you wouldn't come. You didn't quite understand why he wanted to spend time with you so much. Maybe you felt a little bad for always pushing him away, or maybe you were actually warming up to him.

"I, um...that might be fun," you said, not sure if it was nerves or excitement swimming in your belly.

The way Harry's face lit up made saying you would come worth it.

After a few more minutes at the coffee house, you and Harry went your separate ways, but not before he made you promise to join you on one of your morning walks with Buddy Holly. Something must've been in the air today, because you found yourself nodding before heading down the street away from him.

On your way home, you got a phone call from your oldest brother Evan. "Hey, Evan. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"

"Just fine. It'd be a lot better if I got to see my kid sister more often. Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?"

Of your three brothers, Evan was the one who checked up on you the most. Perhaps that was the nature of being the oldest of four, but he had always been the most responsible, the one to keep you and your other brothers in line. Well, mostly your other brothers. But Evan had always looked out for you. He was the only one you told at length about your breakup. You'd confided in him all your life, and he was coincidentally the only one of your brothers you could count on not to go and beat up on your ex or his family.

"Flight's booked and everything," you told him. "Not sure if I can swing a trip to the lake house, though."

Despite your less than ideal upbringing, you and your brothers had all done pretty well for yourselves. No thanks to your parents, seeing as you all shared a dad who never liked to be with the same woman twice. But you and your brothers all stuck together through thick and thin, supporting and celebrating and sticking together despite the differing parentage between the four of you. And now you were all scattered, your brothers Andrew and Hayden were professional athletes and Evan was a bigshot lawyer. Once you moved out of your hometown, you really only saw your brothers for holidays. And the occasional surprise visit from Andrew, though that hadn't happened in a while.

"That's okay," Evan said. "Next time."

"Next time," you agreed. Then, "How's the family?"

"Good. Sammy's gotten so big. And Laura's already showing."

You grinned as you imagined Evan's family. He deserved a happy ending with a loving family after raising you and the idiots you called brothers. "Another team member for the family football game."

"Speaking of the family football game," Evan said, and you mentally cursed yourself. "Laura's been dying to know if she should set an extra spot at the table."

Immediately, your mind went to Harry, but you quickly whisked that thought away. "Nope. Unless Hayden's got a new girlfriend."

"Really? No one?"

You narrowed your eyes even though Evan couldn't see your expression. "Why are you fishing? Gossip is Andy's thing."

"What? I'm not fishing!" Evan spluttered, but you just scoffed and waited. Evan might've been a shark in the courtroom, but he'd always been terrible at lying to you. "Fine. Laura was reading one of her gossip magazines, and you know I don't pay attention to those, but you know, I might have seen someone who looks an awful lot like you pictured alongside a former boy band member."

Well, shit. You knew that was a reality of being Harry's acquaintance, but you'd always done your best to not pay any attention to it. So far it had done a good job, but now it was coming to bite you in the ass.

"It's nothing, Evan. He's an artist. I'm a songwriter. We work in the same building," you said.

"Fine! Fine," Evan said, and you could just picture him holding his hands up in surrender the way he'd done since you were a teenager. "I just thought I'd ask now and try to soften the blow. I'll just leave you to the wolves."

"Damn you, Evan," you muttered. Evan was the easy brother. It was Andrew and Hayden you had to look out for. They would interrogate you relentlessly, or worse, squeeze the life out of you until you caved. Sighing deeply through your nose, you said, "I will ask if Harry has plans for that weekend. And that is it."

"See? That wasn't so hard!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'll talk to you later."

"You love me!" Evan called just before hanging up.

The call ended just as you pulled up to your apartment. You sat back with a huff, marveling at the strings your brother managed to pull from thousands of miles away. But deep down, you knew Evan was just looking out for you. After everything that happened eighteen months ago, he'd been keeping a close eye. As close an eye as he could all the way from New York. But that was how things worked between you and your brothers. You all looked out for each other, and your older brothers acted as personal security guards to any and everyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. It was both endearing and very annoying.

Very annoying. Now you had to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. Evan was so going to get it.

*.*

On Saturday, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror longer than you normally would've. Harry had used the term "get-together" as a means to ease your nerves, but now that the dreaded day had come, you realized you weren't sure what that meant in terms of dress code. Was this thing laid-back? What if casual still meant dressy to Harry and his friends? Harry usually walked around the studio in jeans and faded t-shirts, but he was still a celebrity. He could see this as an opportunity to dress up.

You looked at all the clothes spread out in your room. You'd changed an embarrassing amount of times now, but nothing seemed fitting for the occasion. I could always text him, you thought, biting your nail as you surveyed the tornado of clothes around you. Harry had given you your number earlier this week so he could text you his address. You hadn't wanted to, as it would open the flood gates for conversation outside the studio, but you eventually gave it up when he stared blankly at you after offering your email as an alternative.

Before you could think too long about it, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text. Before you even had a chance to set it down, Harry sent a reply.

Harry S: We're just chilling at my house. Dress as comfortably as you'd like :))

Well, that wasn't helpful at all, you thought, but didn't say to Harry. You went back to rummaging through your pile of clothes, creating a spot for Buddy when he ambled into your bedroom from the kitchen. In the end, you settled on something simple: jeans, platform shoes, and a colorful fleece jacket over a plain shirt. It felt silly to have wasted so much time on your wardrobe when all you were doing was going to see Harry. And his friends. And that was...intimidating.

The anxiety of meeting Harry's friends, of meeting anyone new, crept through you. You didn't want to go and face the inevitability of disappointing them. Your track record with friends was pretty abysmal. But you found yourself kissing Buddy's head and promising you wouldn't be gone long, and then you were getting in your car and plugging in the address Harry had given you.

The music playing in your car calmed you some. Etta James' voice was both familiar and comfortable, welcome feelings as you pulled up to Harry's house. House was a bit of an understatement, though. Maybe a villa, or an estate. The LA version of those sprawling castles that were all over Europe. Your shoulders were tense as you cruised up the long driveway, though your anxiety eased a bit when you saw that had seen about as much life and mileage parked up front as yours did.

Music was playing inside the house, you could hear the trill of soft guitar and the low hum of a male voice from outside, and you worried if anyone would be able to hear you as you knocked on the door. Thankfully, you only stood on Harry's doorstep for a minute or two, then Harry's familiar grin greeted you.

"You made it!" Harry said, pulling you over the threshold and in for a quick side hug. He looked down at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed and green eyes bright, perhaps from drinking. He shook his head a little before pulling you further into the house. "Come in, come in, everyone is just through here."

Harry led you further into his home, giving you a chance to look around. Despite the grandeur of the outside, Harry's house was actually quite cozy and inviting. Everything was in warm tones, and potted plants and bookshelves piled high with a mix of books and records with titles you couldn't read from this distance. His house looked actually lived in, which couldn't be said for some of the other celebrity homes you'd been in. It didn't happen often as you preferred to work alone, but you occasionally dabbled in writing sessions with other artists. Their homes looked much more modern, and much more cold, than Harry's did.

"My home in London is much smaller," Harry said, noticing your craned neck. Then he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "But I liked the look of this place. It reminded me of a house I go to in Italy most summers."

"It's beautiful," you said. "I've always wanted to go to Italy."

"You've never been?"

You shook your head, admiring the arch leading into an open kitchen. "I was supposed to go for—"

For my birthday, you couldn't bring yourself to say. Gavin had planned a summer trip to Italy for your birthday, but that never happened. You surprised yourself by revealing that much, and by the way Harry's eyes lit up, you'd taken him by surprise too.

But he didn't press you to finish your thought. He just smiled and led you further into the kitchen. "Come on. You need a drink."

Harry talked while he fixed up your drink. He'd tried to persuade you to take a shot of tequila with him, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, a look on his face that you'd seen one too many times on your brothers when they were trying to stir up trouble. You declined with a laugh, opting for a glass of wine instead. Maybe a boring choice, Harry definitely thought so as he teased by saying, "Booooring!" but you needed to be sharp, and tequila tended to have the opposite effect, so red wine it was.

"Everyone's through here. I hope you like games because Kid brought a new one over and everyone has become quite invested."

Games? Is that what Harry Styles did on his evenings off? Play board games with his friends? Before you could ask, Harry led you into his living room, where everyone was in fact sitting around a rather spacious coffee table, a board game and playing cards spread out around it. It was a small group of about five or six. For some reason you expected more people, even though Harry said otherwise. They were all talking amongst themselves, talking strategy, you presumed, as you recognized the game as one of those territory-winning ones.

All the talking stopped, however, when Harry introduced you to the group.

You felt their eyes on you, judging, picking you apart where you stood. You began to curl in on yourself, wilting at the attention. Involuntarily, you took a step back, but Harry's hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting against you. You should've pulled away, but you didn't, thankful for at least some kind of familiarity among all the new.

It had been so long since you'd had to meet new people in a non-professional setting. You'd met with producers and artists and other industry people all the time, but there was always a wall of professionalism between you and them. You knew how to navigate that space with ease, but here, where people were sitting on pillows and holding playing cards, where you stood as the outlier among what was clearly a tight-knit group, you felt very much like a fish out of water. A fish in space.

"H—Hello," you managed to say, giving everyone a small wave.

One person got up. A young woman with short brown hair, winged eyeliner marking the corners of her eyes. Her smile was surprisingly warm, but what had your eyes widening even more was when she pulled you in for a hug, squeezing tight.

"I'm Sylvia," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?"

You probably shouldn't have said that, but you weren't expecting such a warm welcome.

"Harry talks about you constantly. I swear sometimes he purposely keeps you from us."

"That is not—That is not true," Harry said, speaking to you for a moment. He sounded serious, but his eyes were filled with amusement as if he was used to Sylvia's teasing.

Everyone else introduced themselves, and you tried to keep a smile on your face as you committed their names to memory. They were all part of Harry's "team" except for Sylvia—writers, producers, musicians. "And you?" you asked her as she pulled you down to sit next to her. Sylvia had insisted you be on her team while you learned how to play. She seemed nice, eager to get to know you, but you didn't trust it. Not yet.

"I'm a full-time mom most days, and a part-time life coach to this one," Sylvia joked. She seemed too young to be a mother, but you supposed they came in all shapes and sizes. "But I'm Harry's nutritionist. And friend when he's not being a pain in the ass."

There was a wry grin on the young woman's face that told you she was fond of Harry, and fond of teasing him, if said grin grew when Harry said, "Hey," was anything to go by. It eased your mind a bit, her kindness and obvious fondness for Harry. She spoke animatedly as she caught you up on the rules of the game and gossip from her yoga class. "They're all in love with that one, of course. Can't take him anywhere," she said with a nod in Harry's direction.

When you agreed to join Harry tonight, you figured you would spend your time with him. But Sylvia kept you occupied most of the evening, and he and his friends were rather invested in the game. You were content to watch, enjoying the playful bickering and shouts of surprise and celebration. It was interesting to see how they all interacted with each other. Harry and his friends sat and drank around his coffee table while you nursed your drink, observing with the sweet feeling of nostalgia swimming through your veins.

"Y/n?"

You jumped in your spot on the floor, your wine sloshing around in your glass a little. Thankfully, nothing poured out. You would've been mortified if you'd spilled red wine all over Harry's most likely exorbitantly expensive carpet.

Eyes flicking to a man with short blond hair, you said, "Sorry?"

Kid, you were pretty sure his name was, asked his question again. "Did you first start writing here in LA?"

"Uh...no. Nashville, actually," you said. "I lived in Nashville for a while before moving out here. But I...grew up in a small town just outside."

"You never told me that," Harry said, sounding both intrigued and a little hurt that you'd never shared that with him before.

Emboldened by your near-empty glass, you said, "You never asked."

That earned a few chuckles and a raised brow from Harry as if he'd just accepted a challenge you hadn't meant to create. But you read that look in his eyes with ease. Any look was quite easy to read from Harry. He was expressive, an open book. He was going to take this as an opportunity to ask you all the questions he'd been witholding.

Throwing back the rest of your wine, you avoided his eye and ignored the excited flip in your belly.

*.*

If it wasn't for your dog, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to keep up with Harry Styles and his impossibly long gait.

He'd kept to his word, insisting that he join you on one of your walks with Buddy Holly. It wasn't until a few days after you went to his house for the first time, but one morning before you usually headed into the studio, he texted and asked if he could join you for your morning walk with your dog. It took some convincing, which really only meant a series of uninterrupted texts until you finally relented.

Buddy took to Harry immediately, of course, though that wasn't a surprise, seeing as your dog was friendly with everyone. But it meant a lot to you that he seemed to like Harry so much. Buddy was a rescue, and you couldn't imagine the awful things he'd been through before you'd given him a proper home.

Now he walked on the sidewalk excitedly, pulling you on his leash as his stubby tail waved around wildly. Harry walked beside you, his curly hair pulled back with a little black claw clip, some of it sticking up in a cute tuft. As he walked beside you, you took the opportunity to study him. There was a little scruff on his cheeks and jaw, creeping down the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong and angular, his cheekbones sharp. Harry really was beautiful. You understood why so many people went so crazy for him.

"See anything you like?"

Warmth flushed your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead, even if the damage was already done. Harry rarely, if ever, caught you staring at him, mostly because it didn't happen often. But in the last few weeks, you'd found yourself admiring him more and more. The movements he made with his hand as he told a story, the mischievous glint in his eye when he made you laugh, the way his arms moved beneath his shirt, how his lips curled around a smile. You cataloged each mannerism, each vocal inflection, and after just a few weeks following that night at his house with his friends, you felt like you knew him quite well.

Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance as your eyes darted back to Buddy, who had stopped to sniff a tree.

You could feel Harry's gaze on you, but you tried not to squirm. His gaze pricked your skin, making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't have been feeling. It was uncomfortable and exhilarating, and you didn't like how much you were warming up to him.

Used to your wordless answers, Harry moved on. "You're making me rethink my decision to get a cat."

"You decided, then?"

"I think I'm more of cat person," Harry said. "Well that, and I think I've found the one, but I'm worried about all the traveling."

"It can stay with me," you said, eyes widening when you did. But it was true, you realized. You were close enough to Harry to promise that kind of thing.

"Well, in that case," Harry said, and you finally looked over to him.

His grin was wide as he looked down at you, and though you couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew they were more than likely squinted with mirth. You liked that smile, you realized. It was uninhibited, full of warmth and good intentions. You wanted to trust it, to give in to the friendship Harry was offering.

But you couldn't. Harry didn't deserve the abysmal companionship you offered in return, and you felt bad for leading him along when you knew you'd eventually fuck things up. You always did.

Your phone buzzing thankfully pulled you away from your thoughts. Looking at it, you saw a text from your brother, Hayden. You think Laura will be cool with a few football players in her house for Thanksgiving? it said, and you shook your head as you typed a quick reply, a small grin spreading across your face.

Hayden was only going to be in town the day of Thanksgiving, as he had a game the day after. You didn't think he would make it at all, seeing how full his schedule usually was, but he managed to squeeze it in. Apparently his game wasn't too far from Evan's house. As long as he, and his teammates now, didn't drink too much, they would be just fine.

You: I don't think so. Laura might put y'all to work around the house though.

Hayden: Seems fair.

Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?

Hayden: Because I can sit you next to one of my teammates.

Hayden: I take that back. Forget I said that. No teammate of mine is going near my sister.

Rolling your eyes, you stuffed your phone in your back pocket. Harry was looking at you with a curious gaze, and you scrambled to explain yourself. "My brother," you said. "Apparently he's inviting some of his football buddies to Thanksgiving this year."

"Does he play at university?" Harry asked. You could almost hear the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to learn more about you, and while sharing in general made you squirm, your brothers were fairly easy to talk about.

"He did. He's in the NFL now."

"Oh nice You must be—Wait what's his name?"

"Hayden?"

Harry stopped walking for a moment. When you tried to stop too, Buddy protested, tugging the leash, and the wrist you had wrapped around it pulled uncomfortably. Murmuring a quick apology, Harry kept walking, keeping pace with your energetic puppy.

"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"

You nodded. "I'm guessing you've heard of him then?"

A bark of laughter slipped from Harry's lips. You'd never seen him so caught off guard before. It was strange, but also a relief to know that someone as steady as Harry wasn't so unflappable all the time.

Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he said, "I think everyone has heard of him. Any other famous brothers I should know about?"

"I don't know how you quantify fame, but my other brother is in the NHL. He plays for a team on the east coast."

Andrew was the youngest of your family. Despite that, he still considered himself your older brother, which had always been annoying growing up, especially when you were taller than him for a few years. He was rather sweet for someone so aggressive on the ice. He spent a lot of time with his mom, but was still close to you, Evan, and Hayden. It was hard not to be when you all shared the same deadbeat dad.

Outside of Evan, you probably talked to Andrew the most. You were the closest in age and grew up going to school together, and while his main focus was hockey, whenever he was in town, he'd go with you to concerts to see whatever indie band you were into or treat you to tickets to a show at the arena he played for.

"You have a third, right?" Harry asked, and you weren't even surprised that he remembered even though you were sure you'd only mentioned it once or twice.

"Evan. He's a lawyer in New York, but he lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter," you said.

Now would be the perfect opportunity to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. You were looping back around on the trail, heading back to the park entrance where you'd met Harry this morning. Evan would pester you about it until you did, or worse, get Hayden and Andrew involved. You just had to throw it out there, be as casual as possible. Easy. You were all about being casual.

"So, um, he—Evan—he, um, said if I wanted I could invite a friend to Thanksgiving. If I wanted to."

"Oh yeah?" You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Swallowing thickly as you willed your cheeks not to flush, you continued to look at Buddy as you spoke. "You probably already have plans, but I just thought I would ask if you wanted to come. Laura, Evan's wife, is a great cook, and it's usually pretty low-key until football gets turned on. But no offensive aunts or uncles or anything like that. Just us."

That was definitely too many words, but the amused look in Harry's eyes didn't feel antagonizing. "I would love to, but um, I already promised my mum I would go home that week."

"Oh." You didn't mean to sound disappointed. It was a good thing that Harry was going home to see his mother. And him meeting your brothers for the first time all at once probably would've scared him out of talking to you in the studio, so really it was for the best. It was for the best. "That's okay. You must be excited to go home. How long has it been?"

"London? Not too long, but I'm headed back to Manchester, and my mum has not been shy in letting me know that it's been too long since..."

You listened to Harry the rest of the walk back, trying to fight off the disappointment gnawing inside you that he'd said no. You didn't want that feeling in you. You wanted to be indifferent. It's for the best. You repeated it over and over until you convinced yourself it was true.

*.*

"You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason, Champagne problems."

You scribbled in your notebook, crossing out words from the original recording and replacing them with better ones. You hadn't planned to go back to this song. After recording it on your phone, you figured it wouldn't see the light of day again. But something kept bringing you back to it. So you worked on it between other projects, playing around with the lyrics and melody in small doses so that the past wouldn't overwhelm you.

Guilt seeped into your bones as you recalled what happened eighteen, almost nineteen, months ago. Sometimes you wished you could forget everything you'd done, but other times you decided being forced to remember was part of your penance for causing so much pain. Gavin was a good man. He was so kind and so smart, he didn't have a cruel bone in his body. And you'd taken his goodness, you'd welcomed all his kindness, and crushed it in your hands.

Wiping away a tear, you shut your notebook definitively. Your session in the studio was far from over, but you were done for the day.

On your way out, you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your watery eyes. You could feel the tears building, and you hoped you could at least make it to your car before you turned into a mess. It was so hard sometimes. Some days you felt great. You would write good songs, take Buddy for a walk and teach him a new trick, you would get coffee with Harry and laugh, and everything would be fine. But then there were days where the mere thought of the past sent you careening off course, leaving you with nothing but the intrusive thoughts you thought you'd learned how to keep at bay.

Today happened to be one of those days, and you hoped you could escape and wallow in self-pity unnoticed. But before you could even make it to the elevator, you bumped into something solid and warm. Arms wrapped around you to hold you steady before you could spring back, and against your better judgment, you looked up, an apology poised on your lips.

"Y/n, are you okay? What's wrong?"

You should've known that you would be unlucky enough to run into Harry on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head and stepped out of his grasp, though that didn't make you feel any better. "I'm fine."

"You can talk to me," Harry insisted. His brows furrowed with concern, but he didn't come any closer. There was a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat covering up his hair, with only a few stray curls sticking out beneath it. He looked like he was just going into the studio for a session.

"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, not wanting to be the reason he was late for studio time. "I'm just leaving for the day."

You tried to step around Harry, but his hands fell down on your shoulders. His gaze burned, but you couldn't make yourself look him in the eye. You knew the moment you saw the sympathy swimming in them you'd burst into tears.

"Please let me go," you said, but it came out as more of a squeak, your voice breaking on the last word.

To your surprise, Harry did, and even though that was what you'd asked for, what you wanted, you somehow felt worse. Shuffling around him, you mumbled a quick goodbye and bypassed the elevator, not wanting to wait awkwardly for it to come up while he was still in the hall. It wasn't until you finally got in your car that you let everything out, all the guilt and loneliness and self-loathing that you kept bottled up regularly.

So often you were able to pretend the past didn't exist. But then there were days where you were almost slapped in the face by the consequences of your actions. Negative thoughts followed you all the way home and into your bed. Not even hiding under the covers kept you from feeling everything all at once. Your mind spun as you thought of Gavin, of his elated grin crumpling into a look of betrayal as you told him you were ending it.

You remembered every detail from that night. The brand of Champagne Gavin bought for the would-be occasion, the woodsy cologne he wore, the looks on his friends' and family's faces as you hurried down the stairs to leave the party, unable to bear their shame and disapproval, or the heart you'd broken on the landing in his family's mansion.

You didn't know he was going to propose until mere moments before it happened. You had only been seeing Gavin for a few months, and things were good. He made you happy, and you liked having someone to go through life with. He liked to shower you with expensive gifts, for no other reason than to show you he cared and because he could. You didn't have the same kind of wealth he or his family did, not even with the substantial amount of money you made as a successful songwriter. But you'd write him poems and leave them places you knew he'd find them and looped your arm through his at company parties. Things were good.

Every year, Gavin's family hosted a Christmas party, and last year was the first time you'd been invited. You hadn't wanted to go, mostly because in the two weeks leading up to the party, you realized you weren't in the same place Gavin was emotionally, and you weren't sure you ever would be. But Gavin insisted, promising it would be fun and he wouldn't abandon you to his family, who had been nothing but cold since the moment he'd introduced them to you. So you went, sipping on Champagne in a glass made of crystal and wondering if the guilty pit at the bottom of your stomach would ever stop growing.

It was a couple hours into the party when you'd stumbled on a conversation between Gavin's mother and sister, one that made your blood run cold with dread.

"Did Gav really ask you for your ring?" his sister asked.

His mother nodded gravely. "He wants to do it tonight."

"What? That's ridiculous! They've barely been together a year!"

"I'm sure she would make a lovely bride, she's beautiful, I'll give her that," his mother conceded, but you could hear the disdain in her voice loud and clear. "It's just a shame that she's—"

"Fucked in the head?"

"Larissa! Language!"

"What? She is! She's a total basket case, and everyone can see it but him. She'll never make him happy. How could she? Putting a ring on it doesn't change a thing. Gavin would have a psych patient, not a wife. He deserves better."

The rest of the night was a blur, but you knew you couldn't wait. You didn't want to break up with Gavin on the night of his family's Christmas party, but if he was going to propose, you couldn't let him. The hurt would be so much worse if you had to slide the ring off your finger a week or two after the proposal.

Gavin called you for weeks afterward, begging you to help him understand. His family did too, and his friends, people you considered friends as well, but it was clear once there was a line drawn in the sand where everyone stood, and they didn't have any trouble letting you know how horrible you were for doing what you did. Sometimes when you let yourself get angry, you wondered why Gavin's mother and sister, or any of them really, were so aggressive about your break up. They'd never wanted you to be with him in the first place, and even though they'd gotten their wish, they still called you a heartless monster.

But above all that, Gavin's messages made the deepest cut. He sounded so devastated in each voicemail. And at first, all he wanted was to talk, to somehow work it all out as if it was one big misunderstanding. I know my family can be a lot, but I love you so much, he'd said in a text. We can go to Italy like we'd planned. Elope. Buy a little cottage and just start a new life somewhere else. Please, Y/n. Talk to me. I love you.

Messages like those were the toughest pills to swallow. You knew Gavin loved you, you never doubted that for a moment. The problem was you didn't feel the same. You didn't know why. You cared for Gavin a lot, and in the beginning, you had all those giddy, initial relationship feelings, but they never developed beyond that. And when you noticed Gavin's feelings growing more and more each day while yours didn't, you started to panic.

But it was when those messages turned angry, hateful even, that hurt the most. It was what you deserved after what you'd done, but to know that you'd turned one of the gentlest souls you knew into a spiteful one killed you almost as much as stopping him from getting down on one knee had.

In the midst of all your crying and hyperventilating, your phone buzzed. Wiping your eyes and nose, you lifted your phone to your face, squinting at the bright light.

Harry S: I know you probably want space, but I'm here for you xx

You shouldn't be, was your first thought, but all you texted back was, Just a bad day that's all.

Harry's response was almost immediate, as if he was waiting around for your reply.

Harry S: Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me :))

You sighed, feeling another wave of tears overwhelm you. The pressure of friendship weighed heavily on your chest. All you could offer was disappointment, and you couldn't stomach the thought of letting someone like Harry down. He was too good a person to be your friend. All you could offer him was disappointment and pain. You were toxic, and better off left alone.

You: We're not friends. I don't want to be your friend so just leave me alone.

*.*

Weeks went by and you were positively miserable. Thanksgiving came and went, and even your brothers could sense not to pry about your sour mood. Evan tried to get you alone, but you didn't want to talk. You didn't want to explain how you'd fucked things up so royally. Again. You didn't want his sympathy, or Hayden's promise to fight anyone who hurt you, or Andrew's cheesy jokes to lift your spirits. What you wanted had been all the way in England and had been giving you the cold shoulder. Just like you'd asked.

Harry stopped saying hi to you at the studio, which hurt more than you thought it would. In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't known him very long, but seeing him in the hallway and watching him purposely avoid you felt awful. You only had yourself to blame, but you thought it was better to let him down early on than further down the line. You couldn't have another Gavin situation on your hands.

But this felt entirely different. Even though you'd only spoken to Harry for a month, his absence from your life was more poignant than you expected it to be. When you ended things with Gavin, you felt guilty for hurting him, but ultimately, there was a sense of relief that you weren't leading him on, that crushing weight of his family's disapproval on your chest lifted. Breaking up with Gavin was hard, but it was the right thing to do for you, there was no doubt in your mind about that.

But this thing with Harry...you'd pushed him away when you were feeling vulnerable. A preemptive measure for the both of you, but there was no relief, no justifiable sense of rightness in your gut in the days following.

Part of you wanted to reach out to him and apologize, but you worried he hated you now and didn't know how to bridge the gap you created between the two of you.

Opportunity struck when you overheard a conversation between Harry and...Mitch. you were pretty sure that was Mitch from that night at Harry's house. It was about a week after you came back from your brother's house, and all three of them were constantly calling or texting despite their busy schedules. You wouldn't have put it past any of them to have set up times to routinely check in on you. It warmed your heart some, but nothing would feel right until you fixed things with Harry. Pushing him away had been a mistake, you saw that now. You'd done it in a moment when you were at your lowest, and that wasn't fair to either of you.

"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said to Mitch. "I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic before adopting a cat. I feel like an idiot now."

So he went ahead with his plan to get a pet, then. The thought made you smile, but you held it in. You were pressed into the corner of the elevator up to the studio. Harry was definitely aware of your presence, but he hadn't acknowledged you. Mitch gave you an awkward wave, but that was somehow worse.

"No worries, man," Mitch said now, stepping out of the elevator with Harry. He was in a white t-shirt and a light brown cardigan today, his curly brown hair looking beautifully windswept. You refused to think about the current state of your hair, which was hiding beneath a blue baseball cap. "I'll just have to—"

You never found out what Mitch would have to do because they rounded a corner of the hallway, leaving you alone outside the elevator. Quickly scurrying into your usual studio, you sat down at the grand piano, letting the smooth keys cool your sweaty palms. You felt breathless, but it wasn't the usual anxiety-ridden breathlessness you were used to. This felt different, your heart speeding up at the thought of Harry's broad shoulders beneath his sweater.

"Pull yourself together, Y/n," you told yourself.

The damage was done—once again, at your hands, but you couldn't help that right this second. Right now you had work to do.

The next day, you did something you didn't normally do—venture outside of your studio. Since working in the building, you'd never thought to explore the other rooms, to introduce yourself or make friends the way Harry had with you. As you walked down the long hallway of closed and half-open doors, you wondered who was behind them, what kind of projects were being worked on right now.

Most importantly, you wanted to know which door Harry sat behind.

After a day of writing, of trying to lean into more positive feelings, the small hope you had for a brighter future. You left the studio feeling lighter after another introspective session. There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, both of these things can be true, you'd written, forming your thoughts around a melody that was both somber and hopeful. That moment when you'd pushed Harry away was the lowest you'd felt in a while, but you didn't want to feel that way anymore. All Harry had been asking for was friendship. You could do friendship, in fact, you craved it.

So now you were trying to make things right with Harry, or at least apologize for your rude text. He'd only ever been incredibly kind to you, and you'd treated him like garbage.

You came across a door that was partially open, laughter filtering out and reaching you in the hallway. Harry's voice was mixed among them, and hearing him laugh filled you with butterflies. Going to his studio suddenly felt like a mistake. You didn't want to bring down his mood, especially if it would affect his writing for the day.

But you finally worked up the courage to knock on the open door. You'd already made it this far. The knock immediately sobered up everyone inside the studio, and you waited outside with your gift bag clutched in your hands. One of Harry's friends appeared, eyes widening when he saw you there.

"Y/n," he said. "It's good to see you."

You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you or not, and nerves slowly began to creep in.

"I—I won't take up too much of your time, I know y'all are probably busy," you said. "I just, um, could you give this to Harry, please?"

You shoved the bag in the man's direction, forcing him to take it. "You can come in. He's just inside—"

"No, it's okay. I should probably get back to it. So, uh, see you."

You turned and fled, heat flooding your cheeks. Honestly, you were surprised you made it that far. You figured your courage would fizzle out before knocking on the studio door.

Settling back in your studio, you pulled out your journal and phone out of your bag, and opened up to a fresh page to work on a new song. On the way into work this morning, your agent pitched you an opportunity to write for an up-and-coming artist. "Something light, Y/n," she'd said, knowing you'd been writing mostly sad, break-up songs recently. "If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but at least try. You've always liked to challenge yourself."

So you were putting away the Champagne problems for now and channeling your happiest thoughts. You even brought your computer to stream romantic comedies while you worked for some additional inspiration.

You were halfway through When Harry met Sally when that inspiration finally struck. Lighter, happier words finally filled your journal, a rare, but not completely uncommon occurrence. You'd written love songs in the past, both before and while you were with Gavin. But surprisingly, Gavin wasn't who came to mind, nor was it the characters in the movie on your computer.

You thought of Harry's smile, his flushed cheeks after he'd had a couple drinks, his green eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed. Did you have a crush on him? You weren't entirely sure, maybe you just admired his goodness. And, okay fine, his unfair amount of good looks too. But you tried not to focus too long on who exactly inspired you, just on making sure the words kept flowing onto the page.

Perhaps you should've expected Harry to stop by, but you hadn't. His voice startled you, your eyes having been glued to the screen of your computer as the final scene of Roman Holiday played out in front of you. It had always been one of your favorites, and you decided that a brain break was needed as the final third of the film rolled around.

"What's this?"

No matter how many times you'd seen it, the ending never failed to bring tears to your eyes. Seeing the glisten of tears in Gregory Peck's eyes as he stared longingly at Audrey Hepburn's, knowing they loved each other but could never be together was heartbreaking. It had been the most tragic thing you'd ever experienced when you first watched it as a girl, and it hadn't even happened to you.

It was those tears now that you wiped away, a warmth creeping up your cheeks because this was the second time Harry had caught you crying. How embarrassing.

Looking up, you saw the gift bag in one hand, the other in his pocket as he stared at you blankly. No warmth or his usual smile, but he wasn't glaring at you, either. He just looked indifferent, and that didn't sit well with you at all.

"I...I overheard you and Mitch talking about your cat and his allergies, and I'd heard of this stuff that you can use on your pets to help people who are allergic to animals."

You'd gone out and bought it after leaving the studio the day you'd overheard the conversation between Mitch and Harry. It was your version of an olive branch, a way to express your guilt after taking Harry's friendship and throwing it in his face. You were his friend, and you wanted him to know it.

It probably seemed silly to hide behind a gift instead of saying something, considering your profession. But confrontation was almost as terrifying as love was, it was part of the reason why you only wrote songs and didn't perform them.

Harry scoffed, and it looked like he couldn't decide between laughing or rolling his eyes. "No, I know what this is, I'm asking why you gave it to me. Or not me, to my friend and then scurried back over here."

"I'm sorry about that, about everything," you said, shutting your laptop and shifting in your chair. "I was...I haven't been in the best place for some time now. It's not an excuse for how I treated you that day. You caught me in a bad moment and I lashed out."

"Thank you for apologizing," he said, his voice cool and even. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What he saw when he looked at you. "Do you want to grab coffee? Maybe we can talk?"

The thought of being open and honest in the way that he was suggesting was daunting, but Harry deserved your honesty. "Sure. Let me just pack up my things."

Harry waited for you by the door as you packed your bag, jotting a couple notes down in your journal before putting it away. Your hands shook a little as you approached him, excitement swelling in your belly despite the anxiety you felt at the prospect of having to talk about things you preferred to leave in the recesses of your mind. But it felt good to see Harry again, to walk beside him and head to your favorite coffee house.

Neither of you said anything on the short walk over, and even after you placed your orders, you remained quiet. When your name was called out alongside Harry's to grab your drinks, you knew it was time to find a table, but you stayed rooted to your spot in front of the counter.

It was Larissa. Gavin's sister. She was standing next to the other end of the counter where baristas called out and dropped off orders. There was a moment when she didn't see you, and you thought you could make a break for it, even if that meant leaving Harry high and dry. But even if you wanted to, you were frozen in place, and when Larissa's gaze finally landed on you, you felt her glare even from a short distance.

"Y/n?" Harry asked, both drinks in his hands. "What's—"

"Y/n! How good to see you!"

Larissa's kind smile was anything but. You'd never trusted Gavin's sister. From the moment you met her, you knew to be wary of her, and after everything that happened, you were sure nothing good was going to come out of this interaction.

"H—Hi, Larissa. How are you?" you said, trying your best not to look at Harry, who had a quizzical look on his face.

"Oh, I'm just fabulous. I've just spent the last year healing my brother's broken heart, which you broke like it was nothing," Larissa said. "He's great, by the way. Finally came to his senses and realized what a God-awful mess you were. He realized all of us were better off without you."

Then, before you could even make sense of what was happening, a rush of cold washed over you. At first, you thought it was merely a visceral reaction to the confrontation, but Harry's, "What the fuck?" made you think twice.

Looking down, you realized Larissa had poured her drink on your sweater. Shock left you blinking at Gavin's sister, tears welling in your eyes. With shaking hands, you held the ruined sweater in your hands, then back to Larissa. "Wh—Why—"

"That's for my brother, slut."

"That's enough," Harry said, voice harder and colder than you'd ever heard him before. Even when he was upset with you at the studio, he never sounded this angry. Gently gripping your elbow, he turned you around. You hardly noticed the flashing of cameras aimed in your direction. All you could really process was Larissa's smirk and the iced coffee dripping off you onto the coffee house's floor.

When you were finally outside and a block down the road, Harry pulled you down an alley where you could have a moment of privacy. He pulled his sweater over his head and offered it to you in a bundle. You quietly murmured your thanks and took it from him, slipping it over your head. The plain black sweater was warm and smelled like him—like laundry detergent and expensive cologne. It would've been the kind of thing to flood your senses if shame hadn't currently encompassed every fiber of your being.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," you said when you felt like you could speak without your voice trembling.

"You don't have to apologize for what happened, Y/n," Harry said. He gently rested his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

You couldn't look him in the eye, not while your iced coffee-ridden sweater was now ruining his, not while he kept looking at you with such pity. You could feel it down to your toes, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed. But Harry deserved an explanation. At the very least, he deserved to know who he associated himself with.

"I should explain—"

"You don't have to," Harry insisted.

"I want to," you said, believing the words as you said them. You weren't sure what you would've done if Harry hadn't been with you a few minutes ago. His brows were still furrowed with concern, his thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder. His sweater layered over yours created a pretty thick barrier, but you could feel his touch as if he was caressing your skin. "We can, um, we can go back to my place."

Thankfully, Harry didn't protest, just nodded quietly. The walk back to the studio was completely silent, leaving you alone with your thoughts until it was time to part ways. He got in his car and followed you home, silently following you up the steps to your apartment, a comfortable little one-bedroom twenty minutes from the studio.

Buddy was at the door when you unlocked it, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side of his mouth happily. He greeted you first, then Harry, who he tried with all his might to knock over by getting up on his hind legs and resting on your guest. "Buddy! Down!" you hissed, frantically holding onto your dog's collar. Harry laughed and waived you off, surprising you by lifting Buddy up into his arms. Both boys were perfectly content, and the image of your friend holding your dog in your apartment was enough to lift your spirits the tiniest bit. A small smile crept onto your face, and Harry's grin widened when he saw it.

"Nice place," Harry commented, spinning around in a slow circle as he looked around.

"Thanks." Your apartment was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood and close to the beach. You made just enough in royalties to be comfortable in a little one bedroom. "Definitely different from my place in Nashville."

Harry nodded mildly before setting Buddy back down on the floor, admiring the colorful furniture that took up the space in your living room. Shivering a little, you looked down at yourself, reminded of your coffee-soaked clothes.

"There are treats in the pantry," you said, setting your things down on the kitchen counter and nodding to the pantry in question. "I'm just going to get changed so I can wash your sweater."

Harry nodded, but he seemed content to play with Buddy and look around your apartment, and your dog seemed perfectly happy to never walk on four legs ever again.

You tried to make quick work of changing, not wanting to keep Harry waiting too long. But you gave yourself a minute or two to calm down and process everything that had happened in the last hour. Even though it was horribly embarrassing, you were glad Harry had been there. He'd been a calming presence throughout, and you could only hope that would continue as you explained why you'd pushed him away.

*.*

"I...I didn't want to hurt you," you said, looking down at where your hands were knotted in your lap. "I just...I don't have a very good track record with relationships. Of any kind. I didn't want you to be one of the people I ruined."

Harry had been surprisingly quiet while you explained everything. And by everything, you meant everything. From Gavin to the Christmas party and what you'd heard to the would-be proposal. You told him about that song you'd written a couple weeks ago and how it brought all that emotion to the forefront of your memory and that it led you to push Harry away. He hadn't said much, asking you a few questions here and there; but for the most part, he let you speak uninterrupted, and you were surprised at how you continued to fill the silence, not once feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps a little ashamed after explaining how badly you'd hurt Gavin, but you never felt discomfort telling Harry any of it.

"Y/n, I—" Harry began to say before pausing. Looking up at him, you saw his brows furrowed, a look of consternation on his face. You waited for the blow, the one that eventually led him to leave you friendless once and for all. "I don't think you're a bad person for breaking up with him. I can't imagine that kind of hurt, sure, but if you didn't love him, you did the right thing. Do you—Do you seriously believe you're fucked in the head? Or that you ruin people?"

He was referencing the song you'd written, and you flushed bright red at the idea of him hearing more of the song than you would've liked. Shrugging, you gave him the truth. It didn't seem fit to lie when you'd bared your soul to him. "I don't know."

You could tell that answer didn't sit right with Harry. His frown deepened, and you desperately wanted to see him smile again. "Y/n, everyone makes mistakes in relationships, and even then I don't think you did anything wrong in that moment. Was it unfortunate timing? Maybe, but I don't think you should punish yourself for it anymore. In fact, I think what you did was brave."

"What?"

Smiling, Harry took your hand in his. It was warm, and his long fingers curled around your hand with ease. On any other day, you would've pulled back, but after sharing so much with him, this felt good. It felt right.

"I said what you did was brave," he said again. "You didn't love him, but you could've accepted the proposal and stayed with him. And then what? Leave him at the altar? Stay in a loveless marriage? It was hard, but you did the right thing for you and Gavin. I'm sure even he would come to understand that one day. Have you tried talking to him?"

You shook your head. "He hates me now."

"I don't think anyone could really hate you, Y/n," Harry said quietly, a blush crawling up his cheeks as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I know you might disagree, but I think you might feel a lot better about all of this if you talked to him."

"His family—"

"Fuck his family. Gavin is a grown man who can think for himself," Harry said. "If he can't separate their wrong opinions from his own thoughts, then he's an idiot who never deserved you anyway."

You laughed a little at the first half of what he said. It felt nice to know that someone was on your side. Squeezing Harry's hand, you said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for being a good friend when I maybe didn't deserve it. Evan's the only person I talked to about this, and even then I didn't explain everything," you said. Evan had been on your side, but it didn't really count to you. He was your brother. He had to be on your side. "I just don't have the best track record when it comes to hurting people, you know?"

Your eyes had fallen to your hand, which was still curled around his, but to your surprise, Harry's other one lifted your chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, you looked at him, heart beating a little wilder in your chest when you saw the look on his face. His expression was wide open, earnest and endearing, and filled with...something you weren't ready to see yet. But it filled you with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, you really believed that you didn't have to be alone.

"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

His hand pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The movement made your breath hitch, lips parting as you tried to decide what Harry was going to do next, what you wanted him to do next. He seemed like he was waiting for something too, and his gaze was finally too much, like he could see your soul and was currently shuffling through every little thing you longed for and were afraid of. It was heavy with emotion, and you weren't ready for it.

"You should probably get going soon," you said, rising, with great difficulty, to your feet and putting some distance between yourself and Harry. A frown on Harry's face appeared, and you quickly explained yourself. "Your cat. You probably should head home and feed her."

Before you and Harry sat down to talk about...everything, he briefly mentioned his new kitten, Sweet Pea. "It was the name she already had when I adopted her, and it didn't feel right to change it, though sometimes she's not so sweet." She was a fluffy Ragdoll cat that was apparently quite the diva, and Harry proudly showed off picture after picture, claiming he was already in love with his new furry companion.

Now though, Harry's eyes widened as if he hadn't even thought about his new kitten since being here. "Right. Good call. I'll see you tomorrow?"

You nodded as you watched him gather his things. "I'll return the sweater tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You walked Harry to the door to see him out. He crossed the threshold but paused before heading down to his car. You couldn't read the look that crossed his face, but his lingering gave you one last opportunity to take him all in. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath the white t-shirt he wore, and his hair had grown a tad longer since you'd spoken to him last, now curling around the nape of his neck and touching the collar of his shirt. Harry was taller than you, but not by much, though standing this close, it felt like he was a whole foot taller as you craned your neck to look at him.

Then, before you could ask if he'd forgotten something, he leaned forward. It took you a moment to realize what he'd done, but the lingering traces of heat on your forehead helped. He'd kissed you. On the forehead.

"See you tomorrow!"

Harry was gone in a flash, leaving you standing at the front door of your apartment with an open mouth as you tried to decide what his forehead kiss meant. To you, it felt sisterly, and you couldn't help the disappointment that swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed that feeling away, closing the door on whatever happened just then.

*.*

For the next few weeks, everything felt like it was back to normal. Better than normal, even. Despite the awkwardness you felt at having to see Harry after the odd forehead kiss, Harry acted like it never happened, which you were thankful for. You wouldn't have known what to say if he'd brought it up. Or tried to do it again.

But it became clear, despite the teeny tiny budding feelings you might have had for him, that he merely saw you as a friend. After your long talk with him at your apartment, Harry began showing you some of the work he'd been doing in his own studio down the hall from yours. It appeared he was getting over a break up too, though you never would've guessed by how cheerful he was most days. He still was, even as he explained a little about his most recent relationship, and you realized that while you hid your true emotions behind a wall, he might've been hiding behind his happy disposition. It made you want to dig deeper, to see what lay beneath all that "fineness."

As you spent more time with Harry, you also began hanging out with his friends. The first time you returned to his house for another game night, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, namely Sylvia. "I'm so glad you're spending more time with H," she'd said that night. "I love him to death but he's a clingy motherfucker when he's lonely."

That thought made you laugh. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Harry a while back when he'd said his friends were "disgustingly in love." He seemed like the kind of guy who loved love, but you also didn't want Sylvia, or any of his friends, to get the wrong idea.

"Oh I don't—I mean we're not—I don't think he sees me that way."

That wasn't how you wanted to explain yourself, seeing as you weren't even sure if you saw him that way. But Sylvia must have seen your flushed cheeks and understood your floundering because she smiled at you warmly.

"I think this calls for a girl's day. What do you think?"

"Oh. Um..." You didn't expect any of Harry's friends to want to hang out with you one on one, but you'd been leaning into trying new things lately. And girl's day? You grew up with three brothers, the last time you had anything resembling that was a tea party Hayden and Evan threw for you when you were six. "Sure. I could meet you for lunch this week if you'd like."

"Lunch sounds perfect."

A couple days passed until you had Buddy on his leash, walking down to the cafe you and Sylvia agreed on. You were a little nervous, but mostly excited. It had been a while since you'd hung out casually with a friend—you weren't counting Harry—and while you'd grown accustomed to the loneliness, you couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt nice to talk to someone other than your dog.

"Okay," Sylvia said once the waiter walked away with your orders. She'd held off asking about Harry, but now the time had come. "Hit me. What did Harold do?"

"Nothing," you said, perhaps a little too quickly. When Sylvia pinned you with a stare, you looked down at your glass of water. "He just...He gave me a kiss? On the forehead? And I don't know, it just read very...brotherly."

Sylvia sighed, which at the very least vindicated your feelings. It wasn't like you wanted anything more, but the whole thing left you feeling confused. A cheek kiss would've been easier to navigate, but the forehead? It left Y/n thinking about Harry more than she should've.

"Okay, I can see where you might be confused by that, but as someone with a brother, I can confidently say they don't do shit like that."

You weren't sure what you expected her to say, or what you even wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. Sylvia knew Harry fairly well, so it was safe to say that she was telling the truth, you just weren't ready to accept what she was implying.

"I do too, and I know the last thing I would expect from any of my brothers is a kiss on the forehead, but I don't know," you said, trying to remain as neutral as possible knowing Sylvia could report back to Harry. This whole thing was starting to feel very grade school-esque.

"Just know that Harry's a pretty open guy, but he's been burned in the past so he might be a little closed off or not be as inclined to make the first move," Sylvia said, though in some ways it sounded like a warning. "He's the greatest guy you'll ever meet, and whatever you decide, just be gentle, okay?"

It was hard to imagine someone as positive and happy as Harry having a dark past, but it sounded like there was a lot more than what met the eye as far as he was concerned. It was honestly a little comforting to know that he wasn't perfect. You were such a mess sometimes it seemed unfair that people wandered through life seemingly unscathed. You knew that was rarely ever the case, but sometimes it was hard to remember when guys like Harry walked around embracing life and had smiles for every occasion.

"I will," you promised, and you meant it. You were pretty sure nothing was going to happen between you and Harry, but you could appreciate Sylvia looking out for her friend. As nice as she had been to you so far, she was Harry's friend first. Her words made you wonder if you would ever have friends so fiercely loyal to you.

After that lunch with Sylvia, the weeks began to pass by in a blur. There were days when you saw Harry frequently, and then you wouldn't see him at all. He would show up at your studio to get coffee—at a new coffee shop, of course—you stopped by his to bring him and his friends baked goods, and sometimes you would end the night at one another's houses, a bottle of wine and takeout split between the two of you. You weren't dating, at least you wouldn't categorize whatever it was that you were doing as dating, but it felt nice to have someone in your life consistently again, and you liked that Harry was that person even more.

That didn't mean you couldn't read the signs. Sometimes Harry's gaze would linger when he thought you didn't notice, or he would sit a lot closer than was maybe necessary when you hung out with his friends. Sometimes his hand would brush yours as you watched a movie as if he wanted to hold it, and yours would brush back encourgingly, and then suddenly you were holding hands. To anyone else, it might have appeared confusing—in fact, Sylvia had vocalized her confusion over the non-relationship you and Harry were engaging in—but for you, not acknowledging what was happening and not putting any labels or definitions on this thing happening between the two of you was somehow easier to swallow. And since Harry seemed to be following your lead, he didn't say anything to object.

It was around Christmastime that things began to change. You'd spent your morning writing a song for an artist's Christmas album, a feat you'd managed to avoid in the past. But since you'd worked with the artist before and liked the vision she had for this album, you decided to at least try to write a holiday song. It wasn't necessarily that you disliked Christmas or the holidays, you were just indifferent to the season in question, and after everything that transpired two years ago now, you just never felt like celebrating much.

Harry Styles, however, was a huge fan of Christmas. his studio was decked out with lights and garlands, he got him and Sweet Pea matching sweaters, which you weren't entirely sure if he knitted or not, and he'd been bugging you since Thanksgiving to come over to decorate cookies. He'd finally worn you down and you were going over later tonight, but not before putting in a couple hours at the studio, which turned into sitting in on one of Harry's sessions.

It didn't happen often, but you did like seeing the team approach to writing songs as opposed to your usual solitary method. For the most part, you watched as Harry bounced ideas off his friends, observing as they focused on one chord progression or verse until something else stole their attention away. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone in the room seemed to be having fun.

It was in the middle of a heated debate between another fun, upbeat song or beginning to work on a ballad when the melody came to you. It was just piano chords, and had you been in your own studio, you would've immediately sat down to play it and see where it went. But this wasn't your studio, and it wasn't your session, and while you knew no one would've minded hearing your input, you felt nervous all of a sudden, self-conscious.

So instead, you pulled some blank sheet music out and began to scribble, writing as quickly as possible before the melody escaped you. The melody had taken up so much space in your head that everything else faded away. You envisioned arrangements, themes, a line or two sprouting as you wrote down the next note. Something sad and somber, the exact opposite of what Harry had been pushing for since he entered the studio.

"What am I now?" you wrote on the back of the sheet music. You didn't know how it would fit, but it would. You could tinker with the words later, so long as all your thoughts were written down somewhere, you would find a way to make it happen.

"What are you working on over there?"

Harry was suddenly at your side, and when he peeked over your shoulder, you didn't try to hide your frenzied notes. You handed them over, unsure if he even read sheet music. "It was just a thought I had. I can play it for you if you'd like?"

"Please," Harry said, gesturing to the piano in the corner of the room. It was then that you realized that everyone else had left the room at some point or another. At your questioning glance, Harry explained. "Ten minute break, but it felt like you were onto something...And I figured you'd be more willing to share if it wasn't in front of a group."

"Thank you," you said, those pesky butterflies swirling around in your stomach. They seemed to appear any time Harry so much as smiled at you. "It's just a melody, really, but maybe you can use it for something.

You sat down at the piano, eyes widening when Harry sat down beside you. Shaking it off, you focused on the piano, the keys cool and smooth to the touch, a familiar feeling that felt nice among such a different work setting. You explained your thought process to Harry a little bit, telling him the direction you hoped the song would go in and possible arrangements for it and whatnot. Harry, who apparently knew you better than you thought he did, nudged you with his elbow and encouraged you to play, knowing that you were stalling.

It wasn't that you were unsure of yourself or your talent. You knew you were good at what you did. You'd collaborated on multiple albums and worked with many well-known artists and bands, or artists who were just breaking out onto the scene and did so with the help of your songwriting. The difference here was that you normally didn't play an idea for anyone until it was fully realized. You typically sent over demos and typed up lyrics, and Harry would be one of the first to hear something that you'd only just come up with. Besides Buddy, but he didn't really count.

Taking a deep breath, you began to play, letting the chords you'd only just come up with pull your focus. After having played through it a couple times, you looked over at Harry, who had a faraway look in his eyes, an idea of his own forming in his head, perhaps.

"It's fairly simple, but I think that's what's rather beautiful about it," you said while still playing. "Sometimes you don't need much to get a response from someone, and I think a melody like this really allows an artist to shine, you know? Whether that's through their lyrics, or their vocal range, or both. And obviously it can be changed to a different key, this is just the one I wrote down, but...yeah, that's what I've got."

You finally stopped playing to hear Harry's opinion, though you wished you hadn't. Now your hands didn't really know what to do, and it took a lot of effort to keep them knotted together in your lap. Harry still looked pensive, as if he hadn't even heard your rambling, though now you were even more curious to know what he thought.

"Harry?"

Blinking, Harry turned toward you, his knee bumping against yours on the piano bench. His eyes cleared up as he remembered he wasn't alone in the studio. "Hm? Sorry, just thinking."

Offering him your pen and a fresh page in your journal, you said, "Did you maybe want to write it down?"

After that, you and Harry wrote hundreds of songs together. At least it felt like a hundred songs. Whether it was in the studio, or at each other's homes—mainly his because he had a home studio and a guest room for when sessions went too long—the two of you were almost always writing together. It wasn't always for his album, either. Sometimes Harry would help you with projects you were working on for other artists, or you would just write songs for the sake of writing them.

And it just worked. It felt like you and Harry just clicked. He was able to vocalize what you were trying to say to his producer, and you knew what he was thinking before he said it or the sound he was going for based off a couple descriptors. You'd never known someone so intimately before, or understood them so completely, Not even Gavin.

Harry was witty and smart and kind and genuine. He felt things deeply, and kept a lot of his darkest secrets and deepest insecurities incredibly close to his chest. You realized at some point that he was even more guarded than you in some ways. As you wrote together more and more, you obviously realized that there was more than met the eye when it came to your friend, but outside of songwriting, he wouldn't divulge much. He'd been through a breakup recently, that much you could tell, and while you wanted to know more, you respected his privacy and the desire to leave the past exactly where it was. Unless it came to the music, of course.

"So...you're what? Friends without all the benefits?" Sylvia asked you.

You met with her pretty regularly now for lunch during the week. Harry wasn't typically the topic of conversation, but on this occasion, Sylvia was giving you the third degree.

"We're co-workers. And friends," you added as an afterthought. Saying you were merely co-workers didn't seem right to you anymore, and you knew Harry would be upset if you thought otherwise. "I don't know what other benefits I would need outside of his companionship."

"Bull. Shit." Sylvia pinned you with a stare that made you blush. "Last weekend he had you practically sitting in his lap, and you're trying to tell me nothing's going on?"

"Not really. I don't think either of us are in a place to be in a relationship right now." It was the same line you fed to Andrew last week when you went to see one of his games. He thankfully bought it, or maybe he was just used to you keeping your love life to yourself, but Sylvia wasn't having it.

"What makes you say that?"

You shrugged. "I mean I'm definitely not, and I can just tell he's not there yet either. I mean, obviously, I've learned about his most recent relationship by working with him, but outside of that, he doesn't tell me anything. I don't even know her name."

You weren't offended that Harry didn't want to share about his ex. You wouldn't have told him about Gavin if you hadn't been put in that particular situation. But you understood better than most about that kind of pain. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe his feelings were getting all jumbled up between the past and the present. Or maybe he just didn't like you that way. The last theory hurt more than you cared to admit, but you were more scared of another potential relationship going up in flames than finding out the truth, so you decided ignorance really was bliss.

Sylvia nodded, understanding. You realized she must've known his ex, though you didn't ask for details. That was Harry's story to tell, not hers, and you were pretty sure Sylvia would say the same if you did ask. "I guess that's fair. But so, you're just...friends who kiss occasionally?"

You nearly choked on your sip of water. "What? No! Of course not. We don't—We—"

"Let me save you the struggle of coming up with an unconvincing lie," Sylvia said. "I've seen you."

"When?"

"Christmas party," she said, raising one finger as if she was about to list a few occurences.

"That was mistletoe. It was innocent," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, even though said hand was suddenly clammy.

"New Year's."

"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"

"At game night when he kissed your neck?"

"Why are you paying that close attention to my neck?"

"And," Slyvia said, pointedly ignoring your last remark. "I have it on good authority that Harry kissed you at the studio last week. Don't try to hide it, Y/n."

Sighing, you said, "So what's your point, exactly?"

"My point is that y'all are just pretending you're not in a relationship when you are!" she said, looking at you as if you had two heads. "Look, it's clear you've been through some shit and Harry has too, I won't deny that. But are you really going to put your happiness on the back burner because of it?"

Your cheeks burned at having been caught. It wasn't like you'd planned to kiss Harry any of those times. Each kiss came as a surprise, leaving you more and more breathless than the last and hopeful for another. What Sylvia didn't know was that you and Harry had kissed a lot more than the handful that she'd rattled off. Sometimes when it was late and you were over at his house working, he'd get this look in his eyes that would turn your whole body molten. He'd lean in close, nudge your nose with his, and then his lips were on yours and time suddenly didn't exist.

You liked kissing Harry. A lot. You liked the way his fingers gingerly held your jaw, you liked that kissing him gave you free rein to touch him wherever you wanted—his hair, his arms, beneath his shirt. Sometimes it felt like you couldn't get enough, but it always ended with one of you pulling away under the guise that it was getting late. Your lips would tingle long after, and you'd text Harry late at night when you should've been asleep, or he would call to talk about whatever he was thinking.

To anyone else, it wouldn't make sense, but it made sense to you and Harry. There was no pressure to be more, no urgency to define what you were doing, and that seemed to work for both of you.

"I'm perfectly happy right now," you said, and you were.

It had been a long time since you'd felt this content. Your breakup with Gavin left you feeling guilty and ashamed. And deep down, you knew you already felt more for Harry than you did for your ex, and that made you feel horrible too. Part of you still felt you were being greedy by trying to be this happy, that you should just take what you were given and try not to press your luck.

Sylvia took you by surprise by taking your hand. Her fingers were warm and reassuring, just as her eyes were when you finally met her gaze. It was safe to say now that she was your friend. She'd come over to your house multiple times for wine and movie nights, you went out to bars together, you'd met her partner, who was the absolute sweetest person on the planet. You valued Sylvia's friendship, and you valued her as a person. You didn't want to lose her if things with Harry progressed and fizzled out.

"It's okay to want more, Y/n," she said gently.

It was like she saw through all the bullshit and realized what you were really scared of. Harry was the only person who knew everything regarding your past relationship, but you told Sylvia bits and pieces. When you'd told her that you broke up with Gavin the night he wanted to propose, she didn't judge you, or ask why you'd throw away a perfectly good relationship. She was empathetic, and said she was sorry you had to go through that. It felt good to confide in someone who was willing to hear your side of the story, to have them realize if you could've loved Gavin the way he loved you, you would've.

"Maybe," you said. "But like I said, I'm not the only one who has shit to work through."

Sylvia nodded, letting the subject drop. But the words she'd said, It's okay to want more, needled at your brain the rest of the day.

*.*

"You should come with me."

You had been watching Sweet Pea doze contentedly on top of Buddy, who was curled in a ball on his dog bed. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but they'd gotten along great the first time they were introduced, and now you found it adorable any time they napped together.

Harry's voice was low and scratchy in your ear, as if he wasn't too far off from sleep himself. You were huddled together under a blanket on your couch, watching the credits roll on the second movie of the night, but you hadn't paid much attention to anything since the moment Harry pulled you to his chest and tucked his chin in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses as his thumbs rubbed circles beneath your shirt.

"What?" you asked, not having really heard him. It seemed impossible, but every day his touch became more and more dizzying.

"To Japan. You should come with me," he said. "It would be like a writing retreat."

Harry had mentioned his impromptu trip to Japan over dinner. He seemed excited about it, of getting out of town for a little while and just being alone with his thoughts. Those were his words, though now he was inviting you along.

"I don't even have a passport," you said, a non-answer, as Harry would call it.

"We'll get you one," he said. "Don't you think it would be fun to explore a new city together? Just the two of us?"

"W—What about Buddy?"

"Buddy can come to," Harry said, like it was all just so easy.

You thought back to your conversation with Sylvia a week ago. It's okay to want more, she'd said. At the time, you were content with this thing you and Harry were doing. It was simple and easy and pressure-free. A couple weeks later her words still nagged you. You hadn't mentioned wanting more to Harry, but this was different. This was...big. Appearing nonchalant didn't make it so.

"What are we?" you found yourself asking, hating how cliche the question was, even if you did need the answer all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but you knew he was too smart to not understand.

Still, you sat up and faced him, forcing him to sit on the other side of the couch to have a proper conversation. "I meant exactly what I said, H. What—What are we doing here exactly?"

Harry's face flushed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed his neck. "I...I don't know. I thought we were okay with not really defining it."

Not defining it, or not talking about it? you thought, even though that wasn't really fair. You were just as content not to ask as he was until now. Or a few weeks ago, you couldn't exactly tell when you began to want more, or when wanting more stopped scaring you.

"I know, but now you're asking me to drop everything and fly to Japan for...for how long exactly?"

Harry shrugged, and your jaw ticked. "A couple months?"

"A couple months," you repeated, trying to align your thoughts. All you could hear though was, It's okay to want more. Taking a deep breath, you said, "I think...I think if I'm going to follow someone across the world for a couple months, I would like a definition about what it is we're doing."

"It's a writing retreat, Y/n. We would be working on songs. Just like we've always done."

You weren't sure when you became the brave one. Perhaps it was your conversation with Sylvia bolstering your confidence, or maybe it was Harry's reluctance to acknowledge the situation at hand, you weren't sure, but his reply wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.

"I'd have to find my own hotel," you said. "Or an apartment to rent I guess."

"You'd stay with me obviously," Harry said, and you had to resist the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he started seeing your perspective.

"Co-workers don't live together, H."

"But we're not just co-workers, Y/n. We're—"

Your brows raised, encouraging him to finish, but he ended up shaking his head. Running a tired hand over his face, he said, "I understand what you mean, but I can't...I can't give that to you right now."

You nodded, then stood up. "And I can't go to Japan without it."

It hurt, but at least he was being upfront about how he felt. It wasn't really fair of you to ask for more when both of you had been content to keep things simple. But somewhere down the line, you realized you liked Harry. A lot. You were okay with leaving your history with Gavin in the past, and you wanted to look to the future now. You'd thought that the future might include a relationship with Harry, but he wasn't ready, and you weren't sure if you wanted to wait. So much of the last two years had been waiting, hiding. Now you needed more. You craved it.

You felt like you were in some kind of alternate universe. One where Harry was scared and unsure of himself and unable to admit to what he wanted. You wanted more, and you weren't going to settle for anything less. You wanted to be more than his friend whom he kissed sometimes, you wanted to hear his scratchy voice as he woke up beside you, and you knew he did too, but something was holding him back. You'd spent too much time hiding from life and love to hide with him some more. Part of you wanted to, just because it was Harry, and you cared about him a lot, but a bigger part of you knew what you deserved, and it was okay to acknowledge that.

"I understand," he said, standing up with you.

Both of you were quiet as he gathered his things. You watched his broad shoulders shrug into his coat, the lean frame of his body bend down to put Sweet Pea in her little carrier. You felt the loss of him already, and he hadn't even gone yet, but you could feel the wall going up between the two of you. Both of you were guarded in your own ways, and both of you had been as vulnerable as you could be, but it wasn't enough.

"When are you planning on leaving?" you asked as you walked him to the door.

"Couple weeks," he said. "Just have to get the logistics figured out."

Nodding, you stepped into his offered embrace, letting yourself inhale the scent of his cologne and feel his arms around you for the last time for a while. His nose bumped yours in a move that was so familiar it made your heart squeeze. You weren't sure how long you stood like that, kissing until you couldn't breathe, it was only until Buddy's wet nose nudged the two of you apart that you finally stepped away from him. Harry bent down to scratch your dog's head and let him lick his cheek a few times before straightening back up. He was about to turn and leave when you called his name.

"I don't know what happened," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "If you did something or if she did something to make you so...closed off, and from one heavily guarded person to another, I'm sorry that it happened and that it made you this way. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Japan."

Harry grinned, but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples. Without saying a word, he left, head bent as he walked down the hall, taking a piece of you with him.

Buddy nudged your leg, pulling away from the hall Harry already disappeared down. Your dog's eyes were big and curious and completely unaware of what was wrong, which brought a watery smile to your face. "Come on, bubba. Let's get ready for bed."

[dark-konohagakure2]

Sebastian and William t spears trying to one up each other using reader

tw: noncon, double penetration, overstimulation, degradation, competition, size difference

All characters depicted are 18+

William has a very strong distaste towards Sebastian and demons in general, one he will make well known, and while Sebastian isn't as verbal about it, the feeling is very mutual, in fact he'd want to wring the Reaper's neck if it wasn't for his young master's orders and William's death scythe. But even two bitter adversaries are allowed to have a bit of friendly competition.

At first William will scoff at the idea of engaging in such a frivolous game, especially with a demon, but Sebastian knows how to push people's buttons without letting his butler facade crack. Sebastian will tease William and taunt him for apparently being inexperienced in bed, and not wanting to be outdone by such a foul beast, he ends up caving.

It isn't easy for the demon butler to pick up a poor unsuspecting lady or servant girl with his good looks and charms, one who'd be naive enough to follow a stranger like him just because he's pretty, although he wouldn't pick anyone demonic, that would either turn William off completely or excite the reaper a bit too much at the prospect of dominating a member of a species he so despises.

Sebastian won't give up on his venomous taunts against William even when he's balls deep inside of the young woman's pussy alongside the reaper, delighting in his attempts to make the cold and professional man lose his unbreakable composure, at least slightly.

"Hmm~? Is something the matter, Mister Reaper~? If you keep going that slowly you'll never be able to make our little morsel cum, much less achieve climax yourself..."

William isn't going to allow himself to lose to a horrid demon of all things, even if it's at something as insignificant as bringing some helpless human girl to climax, his hips thrusting up in a mechanical movement as he fucks into her, his cock sliding lewdly against's Sebastian's inside of the tight and wet space they're sharing.

The sensation of getting fucked by two different yet very similar supernatural beings is too much for the poor girl, and it's a wonder that she can withstand the dual penetration without passing out from the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Sebastian with tease her as much as his butler facade will allow, while William is almost completely silent the entire time, making a few low noises whenever he cums.

Sebastian isn't going to allow himself to be bested by William at something he himself is already very good at, he has more experience with human women, having slept with multiple of them for information or just for the pleasure of it on many different occasions, and being the suave demon he is, he knows exactly what filthy thing to whisper in her ear to make her weak in the knees.

William doesn't want to lose this little game either, while he isn't as rough, sadistic, or vocal as Sebastian, he's much more precise, having enough knowledge of the human body due to his line of work to hit all the right spots to leave her a writhing and whimpering mess between the two hellish creatures, that is until the barrage of sensations taking over her body becomes too much to bear.

"Humans are so pitifully feeble. I counted only five orgasms and you've already fallen unconscious, such pathetic endurance. Well, it seems as this has concluded in a draw, demon..."

They're both rather disappointed that they weren't able to reach a definitive conclusion on which one of them is superior in bed, but it's a minor setback, they aren't mortal beings like humans are, so they have all the time in the world to settle this petty little dispute they are having.

[minarisplaything]

Blackpink In Your Area (part three)

pairing: Kim Jisoo x M!Reader/M!OC, Rose x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 4.6k notes: part three of the bpiya series. Rose/Chaeyoung/Rosie are all used interchangeably. this has been in the drafts forever so glad it actually got done lol. tags: doggy style, blackmail, oral sex

To say that things had changed after your rendezvous backstage would be an understatement.

You were still the luckiest person in the world, able to call Jennie Kim your girlfriend, but now the number of Kims you were involved with had doubled.

At first, you had assumed it would simply be a one-off. That from Jennie to Jisoo to yourself, you had all gotten carried away in the heat of the moment and let your primal urges get the best of you. On top of that, you didn't think it was something Jennie would want to do again, though the whole experience had shown you a new side of her that you weren't utterly opposed to.

Therefore, one could imagine your surprise when you returned home one evening to find Jennie and Jisoo waiting at your apartment for you.

As it would turn out, Jisoo was too shy to reach out to you on her own, or at least with you present, but she had been hoping that you could have another experience together. And contrary to your previous belief, Jennie approved of it. Encouraged it even, much to your surprise. Though when those two women were looking back at you, proposing a dynamic between the three of you, it was damn near impossible to find a complaint.

From that point on, it was like a new beginning for the three of you, but little did you know, your journey wasn't at its fairy tale ending just yet.

A loud, guttural moan echoed in the residence of South Korean superstars Blackpink. The source of the sound was none other than the visual of the group Kim Jisoo.   

During your first encounter backstage, she had been trying her best to muffle her sounds and minimize the risk of discovery. It didn't take long for you to realize that when that risk was removed Jisoo was quite the vocal lover. And in a completely different manner than her bandmate.  

Jennie was vulgar, expletive, and above all else a master at the art of talking dirty. Jisoo on the other hand was loud in the sense that you would know when she was enjoying herself. Moans, whimpers, gasps, pleas for more; what she lacked in vulgar vocabulary she more than made up for in all the sounds she made. 

As evidenced now as she cried out when you began to fuck her with a more rapid pace.  

She had started on her hands and knees but as the session progressed her posture steadily changed to the point where her head was now buried against the mattress; her ass poised in the air and ripe for the taking. It was the perfect position for you to pound into her, your cock spreading her open each time you re-entered her. 

Normally Jennie would be here with you but seeing as she had a scheduled photoshoot to attend and no one else was around you had decided to entertain yourselves. It had taken some trust building to get to this point, where you could be on your own or Jennie could be with her, and you didn't have to worry about anyone getting jealous. But now that you had there was no turning back.  

"You're so fucking tight" you grunted, sweat glistening off of both of your bodies, proof to how long you had been at it. "Are you close? Are you going to cum on my cock, Jisoo?" 

Needless to say, Jennie's vulgar habits had been rubbing off on you in recent weeks. 

She opened her mouth to respond but words failed her.  In the end it didn't matter as her body spoke for her. You felt the familiar sensation of her walls tightening around your length, her body trembling as her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave.  It was both a feeling and sight you didn't think you'd ever get tired of. 

It didn't take much longer after that for you to reach your own peak; hips rocking against hers and fingers digging into her waist. Obscenities left you as you leaned into her, emptying yourself into her womb. It may not have come with the filthy encouragement of your girlfriend, but it was no less satisfying. 

You had found that one of the handful of differences between Jennie and Jisoo was in the aftermath of sex. Jennie preferred to bask in the afterglow, more often than not leading to a second or even third round of action. Jisoo on the other hand was much more subdued. She preferred to unwind and partake in aftercare. Not surprising considering how rough she liked things to be during sex.  

"You know when Jennie finds out about this, she's going to demand we treat her" you commented as a slipped out of Jisoo, pressing a kiss to her back before falling onto the bed beside her.  

"Is that a bad thing?" she questioned, brow raised as she lowered herself onto the bed, turning her head to look over at you with the hint of a grin on her features.  

“Not exactly.” you couldn't help but chuckle because she was right. If anything, it just meant the night would be a busy one.  

Before you could continue the conversation any further, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed throughout the house.

"Speak of the devil,” you remarked.

"She's finished early," Jisoo noted, slightly confused.

"Maybe her sixth sense was tingling," you joked.

While there was a grin on your face at the prospect of Jennie being home, Jisoo didn't share your same amusement. Instead her head rose slightly as curiosity and concern marred her features. It turned out that her instincts were right as a voice soon rang out.

"Unnie? Are you home?"

"Shi — "

The immediate reaction was nearly comical. You jumped out of bed, searching for your clothes as Jisoo scrambled as well. Though you hadn't had many interactions with Chaeyoung, better known as Rose, due to trying to keep things a secret, you had heard her voice enough times to recognize it as hers.

In the end, you only managed to gather your clothes in your arms before Jisoo shoved you into the closet. She herself had only managed to slip on a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting T-shirt. To any trained eye, the post-sex hair and aroma would be apparent, but there was no time to consider that as there was a knock on the door.

"Unnie?"

The question came before the door was opened, and a blonde head poked its way into her room. "Oh! I wasn't sure if you were home or not."

"Ah, y-yes. Yes, I'm here. I had an empty schedule today," Jisoo replied nervously, brushing sweat-ridden bangs from her forehead. "I, uh, I actually just got back from the gym."

Internally, you groaned. She didn't remain quite as composed as her counterpart would in this situation. You just hoped she'd be able to get rid of Rose soon, lest you be stuck in here all day. It was a hope that was slightly dashed as she opened the door further and allowed herself into the room. Before you could come up with any further complaints, however, your thoughts were quickly silenced by Rose coming into picture. You found yourself leaning forward to get a better view through the slants in the closet door.

She wore a black crop top complemented by form-fitting track pants. When she laid herself on the bed, you weren’t concerned with whether she would get a scent of sex that had recently stained the sheets but instead thinking how perfect her ass looked as it was unknowingly pointed in your direction. 

You became less interested in the idle conversation that she and Jisoo began to have and more lost in the fantasies that began to plague your mind. The things you would do to her if given the opportunity. How she'd scream your name as you drove her to orgasm. It was clear to you then that your greed knew no bounds. But despite your cock reacting to the thoughts running through your head, you knew they were just that, thoughts that would never come to fruition.

Fortunately, you had enough self-restraint not to begin jerking off right there in the closet, and after what seemed like a lifetime, Jisoo finally managed to get her to leave with the excuse that she needed to use the shower having been to the gym.

The door closed as she saw Rose off, and there was a pause before you heard footsteps walking towards the closet. Jisoo opened the closet and immediately looked at you with a bewildered expression.

"You're still naked?!"

"...Yes?" you answered sheepishly.

"Get dressed please! This might be your only chance to leave without running into her," Jisoo exclaimed.

Deciding this wasn't the time for jokes, you obeyed her request. Had you been with Jennie, the situation might have been different; you could imagine her coming up with some kind of plot. But Jisoo wasn't so bold. Not yet, at least.

"I'm going to go take a shower, so she doesn't get suspicious. Let yourself out quietly."

You nodded affirmatively, but not before sneaking a kiss that drew a slight smile from the Blackpink visual. With no further instruction, she pushed you on your way, heading down the opposite end of the hallway towards the bathroom. Now that you were seemingly out of the woods, you could reflect on the situation with a bit of amusement. It seemed with each meeting, Jisoo was getting more and more comfortable with her sexuality and your relationship. On top of that, you had gotten a peek at some eye candy when Chaeyoung came to visit her.

You were grateful that she hadn't caught you in the act, but there was no denying that the idea of going to town on that petite body was a tantalizing one. Unfortunately for you, you'd have to content yourself with your fantasies for now.

You slipped out of the house without further incident, unaware of the watchful gaze of a certain petite blonde.

Due to their busy schedules, it was a while before you were able to catch up with Jennie or Jisoo in person again. And while sexting and Facetimes were great, they could never compete with the physical thing.

So, when you finally did get an invitation from Jennie to come over, needless to say, you dropped everything to make yourself available for her. Maybe if you were lucky, you'd even be rewarded after a long wait with a threesome.

"Jennie? Jisoo?" you called out when you arrived at the house. In her message, she was clear that no one else would be around, so you didn't feel shy about making yourself known, especially if Lisa and Rose weren't around.

Instead of a response, though, you got silence. Was she waiting in the bedroom for you? Maybe with a special surprise.

"They're not here."

To say the voice that came from behind you made you jump out of your skin would be an understatement. You nearly jumped through the damn roof! You turned around, heart beating a million miles an hour, to see one of the two people you had been told wouldn't be there. Uh-oh.

Chaeyoung, or Rose or Rosie, depending on who you were, was standing on the other side of the living room, looking decidedly unsurprised and nonplussed about a strange man being in her home. In fact, if anything, she looked like she had been expecting you.

"Uh, hi. I can explain. I don't think we've met — "

"I know who you are," Rosie cut you off.

Oh, no.

With Jennie, you could often read her as being in control or mischievous. Jisoo was often meek and eager. But looking at Rosie, you didn't know what to think. Was she angry and about to out your whole relationship to the public? No, surely, she'd never do that to her bandmates. Maybe she was just going to ban you from ever seeing them again. Whatever the case, she seemed content to let you squirm, her arms crossed over her small chest.

"And I know what you've been doing. Did you really think Jisoo would be able to keep a secret like that?"

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You guessed it had been rather naïve to think that one of you wouldn't eventually slip up, and that Jisoo was the weakest link. Then again, you weren't exactly innocent with your impromptu encounters while other members were still in the house. You justified it by saying the risk made it that much more exciting, but this was the downside: when you got caught.

"If it makes you feel better, she didn't crack right away when I asked her if you two were fucking. But she has these certain tells when she's lying — they give her away every time" Rose explained. "She told me about you and Jennie which — wow I didn't even know that part." 

As she continued to talk, your immediate fear began to subside. It didn't seem like Rosie was here to expose you. In fact, the more she talked the less angry she seemed and more like she was criticizing your tactics. Which still left you questioning what exactly her goal was.  

Now that your mind wasn't racing, it also gave you a chance to look the idol over. She was wearing another one of her sports bras, and you could already feel a tingling in your loins just at the sight of it. This time instead of wearing track pants, she was wearing running shorts. The kind that came up right to her ass, in fact, you were pretty sure if she turned around you'd see some cheek. It was a lazy, around-the-house type of outfit and yet it showed off her body and slim waist perfectly.

Christ, every girl in this group was a killer.

Honestly, it made you wonder if the reason Jennie was often so willing to share was because she recognized how hot her own roommates were. When you had that first run-in with Jisoo, she had alluded to a past with her that piqued your interest.

You couldn't help but wonder if she had a similar history with Rose, but from the way she was rambling on, it didn't seem like it.

"Take off your pants."

"Uh, excuse me?"

Her sudden demand was enough to break you from your thoughts and look at her in utter confusion. Rosie, however, didn't share your confusion and was looking at you with an expectant gaze, one hand on her hip.

"Were you listening to anything I said? Take off your pants."

You were a little afraid to admit that you hadn't, in fact, been listening to anything she had said and were instead admiring her body the whole time. Rosie seemed like she wanted to be in control, and if you didn't listen, you couldn't help but feel like some sort of punishment was coming. "Alright, alright."

You followed her orders, taking off your pants as she instructed. It was somewhat surreal. Between Jisoo and even Jennie, who could be quite demanding when she got in the mood, you had never been ordered around in this way. And the fact that it was Rosie who was the one doing it was even more surreal. You never would have guessed. Maybe that was why you found yourself getting aroused despite her harsh words.

"Those too," Rosie gestured dismissively at the striped boxers you stood in.

You would have questioned if she was serious, but the expectant look on her face was all the answer you needed to make short work of your last piece of clothing. You couldn't remember the last time you were self-conscious while nude, and yet you were anxiously awaiting Rose's judgment as you stood before her.

"She wasn't lying..." Rose muttered under her breath.

Her voice had lost the commanding edge it had up to this point, almost sounding somewhat shocked.

"What was that?" you asked.

"W-what?" Rose blinked as if shaken from a trance. "N-nothing! Shut up! Or else!"

"Alright, alright, sorry! I was just asking."

You shifted your stance slightly, trying to get comfortable. It was a new sensation. Standing there, now fully nude, and under Rosie's scrutinizing gaze. It didn't help that she seemed particularly transfixed on your cock as she contemplated her words. Part of you was wondering if she had thought this all the way through. She certainly didn't take charge the way Jennie did, but in fear of her lashing out again, you kept any further questions to yourself.

"Here's what's going to happen," Rose started. Her voice still lacked a certain confidence, but you were curious where she was going with this. "You're going to get on your knees. If you can satisfy me, then I'll keep the secret you have with Jennie and Jisoo."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I'll tell everyone."

You swallowed hard at that threat. A part of you wanted to call her on her bluff. You still doubted she'd publicly tarnish her friend's careers. But there were other steps she could take just short of that. Still, there was another motivating factor that was stronger than Chaeyoung's threat: you wanted to succeed. You wanted to feel Chaeyoung’s thighs clenching around your head as she came. Most importantly, you wanted to show her that she didn’t have to be jealous of Jennie and Jisoo.

"Well, when you say it like that, it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice..." you said.

"You don't," she emphasized.

From the curt way she snapped a response, you could tell that Rose was regaining her previous composure and feeling more confident about her position. Good. That worked perfectly for your plan and would make her eventual downfall even sweeter. For now, you'd continue to play the role she expected of you.

"A-alright. Just, you promise not to tell anyone about any of this?" you questioned one last time.

"Really?" Chaeyoung blinked at first, as if not expecting you to submit. She quickly recovered. "I mean, that depends on how well you perform."

"Okay..." You continued to play the role of someone who was defeated despite internally brimming with confidence. "So, where do you want to do this?"

"The living room."

"Out in the open?" Your voice held a surprised tone.

"Yes, out in the open. Right where one of your girlfriends might catch you," Rosie replied.

You didn't know for sure, but you could have sworn there was a hint of jealousy in her voice when she said that.

"Alright," you conceded, not putting up a fight again. "If that's what you want. Though you'll have to get out of those."

You gestured to the clothes she was still wearing. She still had on her sports bra and running shorts. And while you could still work with the sports bra, you'd have to get rid of those shorts to do what she wanted you to do. Pointing it out also made you acutely aware of your own nudity which you now realized must have been purely for her own curiosity or some kind of domination play by her.

Chaeyoung gave you an annoyed look, displeased that you had pointed out something she had forgotten. This time, though, she didn't chastise you, instead merely hooking her fingers into the waistband of the shorts and pulling them down her long legs. The reveal showed that she wasn't wearing any panties underneath. You smirked, wondering just how long she had planned for this moment to happen.

"What's that look for?" Chaeyoung snapped.

"Oh, nothing."

"You probably think this will be easy because you already seduced Jisoo and Jennie, don't you?" she taunted.

"Well, I haven’t heard any complaints so far. I think I’m more than capable," you admitted.

Your smug response seemed to work as intended. Chaeyoung’s pretty face scrunched up in irritation. Without further comment, Chaeyoung moved to the sofa, seating herself in it and reclining back. As she did so, she spread her legs, exposing her pussy to your sight for the first time. Your heart skipped a beat, cock instinctively stirring to life in response. The singer didn't have to tell you to get on your knees as you did so of your own volition, if only to get closer to paradise.

"You're already wet for me," you noted, almost in a trance.

"S-shut up!" Chaeyoung snapped again, a hint of embarrassment in her tone as her cheeks turned crimson. Still, she didn't deny it. Instead, she tried to regain her position of power in the situation, "I suggest you get to work if you want to finish before the others get back."

You briefly wondered if she had considered the outcome where you wanted Jennie and Jisoo to discover you. While she might be initially annoyed at Chaeyoung's antics of going behind her back, you could see Jennie ultimately finding joy in this new discovery. She might even take it upon herself to initiate her bandmate into your little relationship. Jisoo might be the only one who wouldn't want this to be discovered. Or at least, not her part in being the one to spill the beans to Rosie in the first place. That would undoubtedly earn her another punishment from Jennie.

Stowing that thought aside for the moment, you returned to the task at hand. You would have Chaeyoung spraying on your tongue, and then there would be a world of potential.

You leaned closer to her sex, swallowing a comment asking if she had shaved just for you. That was likely to rile her up even more than she already was. Instead, you ran your tongue along her outer folds. Her scent was strong, the taste of her juices already beginning to fill your senses. A moan left the blonde, one hand moving to press against the back of your head.

You continued to tease her, tongue tracing around her inner walls, occasionally prodding deeper inside of her. She let out a sharp gasp each time, her body arching. Her hips rolled towards you, seeking out more.

"S-stop teasing..." she groaned.

You grinned, "I'm just doing what you asked."

"D-Don't be a smartass!" Rosie snapped.

She pushed your head back into her crotch, and you returned to the task with an air of smugness. It was really too easy to rile her up. You sucked at her clit, intent on giving Chaeyoung your full attention now. If she wanted you to stop teasing, then you'd give her the best orgasm she'd ever experienced.

You felt her nails digging into your scalp, a moan leaving her. The hand pressing against your head pushed and pulled, her hips rocking in sync with the actions. She was moaning openly now, no attempt at hiding what was occurring. Given she was the one who wanted this to be in the living room, you shouldn't have been too surprised. Though you did wonder if Chaeyoung had an exhibitionist streak to her.

As you continued to eat her out, her hand moved under her top, squeezing her breast. "That's right. T-this is all you're good for. You're just h-here for us to use -- fuck -- use you as we want, you understand?"

"Mmhm," you moaned against her pussy, the vibrations making her gasp.

She didn't quite have the same amount of conviction that Jennie had when it came to such derogatory bedroom talk, but there was potential there. Besides, you were already horny enough to humor her without calling out the stutters she made.

You were starting to realize that there was a bit of an underlying fantasy at play here. Chaeyoung was enjoying the domination aspect of this, but there was another part that was playing in her mind. One you would have no qualms playing along with. Usually so sweet and friendly, she was finally getting to live out her sexual fantasies as her fingers gripped your head tightly.

"I-I guess I see why Jennie likes you so much now," Chaeyoung moaned. "With that kind of tongue... And Jisoo too. I bet y-you're just their obedient pet."

If only she knew the truth, you thought.

You didn't respond verbally but instead redoubled your efforts, your tongue working at her clit with a new vigor. Your fingers joined in the orchestra, slipping two digits inside of her to further push her towards that precipice. You could hear her breathing becoming shallower, the telltale signs that she was getting closer. Rosie seemed to realize it as well as you felt her fingers claw against your skull, almost trying to push your mouth off of her sex.

"N-no, wait, it's too soon," she moaned, despite her hips bucking into your mouth.

But it was too late. You had the advantage and you weren't going to let it go. Not until every muscle in her tight, lithe body went limp from a mind-numbing orgasm.

"Fuck," Chaeyoung stuttered, "fuck you. Cheating...bastard..."

You had never heard the singer be quite that vulgar before and took it as a small victory. You were just giving her what she wanted. It just so happened it had been more than what she could take and as her body shuddered she knew she was losing control of the situation.

As far as you were concerned, you had played this fair and square.

"Oh god!" she gasped, thighs locking around your head as her hips bucked, riding your face.

Her juices flooded your mouth as she rode out the wave of pleasure brought on by her orgasm. Her body quaked on the sofa, her nails digging into your skull as she held your hair tighter than before. Had you not been lapping at her juices, you might've savored the sight. You stayed locked in that position for several moments, letting her ride out the aftershocks. It was only when you felt her body go limp that you finally pulled your head back.

The look on your face was nothing short of shit-eating smugness. Who could blame you? The arrogant woman who had threatened to expose your relationship to the world sat utterly spent and dazed. Her thighs glistened with her release, her hand still shoved under her top lazily. Her head reclined against the cushions, a glazed over haze in her eyes as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

Looking at her like this, you couldn't help but feel proud and accomplished. Especially considering how haughty Rosie had been trying to act leading up to this.

"You know, if you needed an orgasm so bad, all you had to do was ask," you teased. "I'm sure Jennie would be willing to share."

Chaeyoung only nodded dumbly, unable to maintain her bristling act that she had before nor comment in agreement. Your cock was aching between your legs, and the idea of splitting her in two until she screamed your name was enticing. However, that would have to wait.

"You should probably get dressed before they come back. Unless you want them to find out," you teased her before moving to gather your own clothing, your mission seemingly accomplished.

What followed next played out almost as you imagined. Naturally, you didn't keep the rendezvous a secret, informing Jennie of what had taken place during a long bath. After a punishment which involved a few ropes and a vibrator, she gave her consent to have Chaeyoung join your relationship. Jisoo, notably, remained silent during the whole ordeal. You'd make sure to tease her later and get something out of it, knowing that she was the one who had spilled the beans.

For now, though, life was good.

"You know," you said, as you lay in bed, your head resting on Jennie's lap as Jisoo and Rosie slept soundly on either side of you, "It might get a little awkward the three of you being involved in this with one excluded."

Jennie hummed in response, her fingers stroking through your hair, "Maybe you're right. We might have to change that."

[xoluvx]

early mornings; b.eilish 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚑 𝚍𝚊𝚢 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝

the sun trickled through the parted curtains. eyelids slowly fluttering as you felt your girlfriend stir besides you. her grip grew tighter around your waist. lips instantly landing on your jaw. kiss so soft; almost featherlike. you hummed contently pulling the comforter up to your chin almost trying to conceal the sheepish smile on your face. you were no strangers, but you always felt so giddy around her.

when her arm ran up your body, wrapping around your chest, you whimpered lifting your hips. it was early in the morning, but her soft breathing in your ear and her lips so close to your skin and her hand cupping your breast, were all sending sparks to your already very sensitive clit. you were throbbing recalling the previous night; you were still so desperate for her. needy.

you wanted to feel her tongue touching sacred places. you wanted to feel her hair tangled in your fingers. her hands on your thighs. her warm breath of your pussy. when you stirred and whined again she got the hint. you weren't very vocal, but she knew you like the back of her hand. hand that was running down your body. slithering between your thighs as you struggled to maintain eye contact. you felt flushed, almost embarrassed that you were so desperate so early in the morning.

when her lips curled and her eyes widened upon touching your wetness, your embarrassment settled. you could only focus on her middle finger rotating on your clit. on her bottom lip hiding between her teeth as her movements sped. as she watched your face contort with pleasure and your hands clutch the comforter. you were muffling your cries with the fabric. eyes threatening to close, but longing to hold eye contact as she slid two fingers inside your pussy.

this moan was louder as the comforter fell to your chest. you tossed your head back as her fingers curled and as she watched you carefully. her gaze never faltered. she loved watching the way your brows furrowed and your lips parted. the way you struggled to breathe, choking on your words and moans and whimpers each time she sped up and slowed down and curled and pushed deeper until she was knuckles deep in your cunt. until you were moving your hips and raising them from the bed, thighs closing around her hand. her wrist in pain. fingers crushed by your caving walls.

she was persistent, inserting another finger until you were so full you couldn't do anything else expect breathe heavy and curse her name. you placed your limp hand on her head struggling to keep your eyes open. she could see every emotion behind your eyes as she brought you closer and closer to the edge. she smirked as you started nodding your head, your way of letting her know you were close. you were so close you could cum any second.

if she just kept moving her fingers that way, you were going to unravel on her fingers. same fingers that had so delicately wrapped the presents waiting for you under the christmas tree. same fingers that tied twine on the wrapped boxes and baked cookies that were half eaten on the nightstand. despite all the delicacies, this had to have been the best thing to wake up to on christmas day. you wish you could take every early morning spent like this and wrap it up with a cute little bow and keep it forever.

masterlist

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Fam: Ellie's First Word(s)

Summary: Ellie says her first words! Too bad they're totally gonna get Joel in trouble.

- - - -

You don't want to jinx it, but Ellie is seemingly turning out to be the "good baby" (Dont tell Sarah!!!).

You cant believe shes already 6 months old. It was like yesterday you were scarfing down a Clyde's Milkshake with Joel's semen still fresh on your cheeks, asking him if you looked fat with sprinkles and chocolate syrup all over your face. Now that potato once in your belly has already grown into her new set of clothes.

Maybe her excellent sleep schedule is what's making you skip down the hall first sight of dawn, ready to pick up your sleeping angel.

Shes all curly in her crib, eyes filtering open at the sight of you above her. She makes a little frown (clearly disappointed it's not daddy waking her today) but smiles when she sees your excited face and grabby hands reaching for her.

You cradle her in your arms.

"Good morning Ellie!" You coo. "How did you sleep?"

You ask her every morning how she slept, knowing full well you were just talking to yourself--

"Good!"

You nearly dropped the child from shock.

Pausing, you looked down at her again. She smiles up at you, eyes bright, quiet. You must be entering that phase where... where new mothers ... become schizophrenic (is that a phase? It HAS to be). Yeah just... paranoid.

"Aha... did you sleep ok?" You asked again, wondering if your brain is gonna play a trick--

"Good!" She replies back, and this time, you watched it happen from her own mouth.

You stare at one another for a long time.

-

Joel is patting the 12 decorative pillows back on the bed. Why the FUCK do you need so many damn pillows that just get tumbled off to the floor every night--

"JOELJOELJOEJOEL--!"

You're barreling into your shared bedroom, out of breath and clutching Ellie in your arms.

"What, what's wrong? What happened?" Hes immediately concerned, dropping everything to come to you.

You take a deep breath, then hold Ellie out like she's possessed.

"The baby said her first word."

He looks at you briefly before letting out a snort. "C'mon. She didn't say her first word." He chuckles a bit, shaking his head and going back to make the bed.

"Oh yeah?" You flip Ellie around in your arms. "Ellie, how did you sleep last night?"

Joel shakes his head again, grinning that you're so full of energy and hope and --

"Good!" You baby replies heartily, wiggling her feet excitedly.

Joel stands up straight and drops the pillow he was fluffing to the ground.

So your baby talks now. Definitely weren't expecting that for a few months. Might still be worth going to a church to get a little safety exorcist on her but...

But Joel is still skeptical. It's been a week since the "incident" (she said 1 word) and she hasn't been vocal since, except her usually baby babble and coos.

You're all over it, telling everyone Ellie is already talking like she's some circus performer.

Joel's gotta make sure Ellie has more to prove so you don't look like a fool. He takes her onto his bed and sits her upright. Well, as best she can without falling over. He positions her between two enormous pillows so she doesnt flop over from all that upper body weight.

"Alright kid. We both know you didn't say your first word. Ya just repeating things you hear. That momma of yours thinks your little 'goo' was authentic. We both know it was just 'goo' which is baby talks which ain't count as a first word, right?"

Ellie just stares at him in awe with those big eyes, mouth slightly agape trying to make sense of the noises coming from his mouth. He's definitely uncertain now that there's even a thought behind those eyes, let alone a coherent word...

"Alright. So now we gotta practice you getting ya actual first word in. And it's gonna be Daddy."

At the sound of 'Daddy' she brusts into a big toothless grin, wiggling her bum and clapping.

"Yeau that's right! Daddy! Your favorite! I'm daddy! Can you say 'Dada'?"

Ellie purses her lips together in concentration, and Joel gets his hopes up this might be all it takes--

"PPPTTTFFTTTTT!!!" She spits through her lips before falling over to her side without a care.

He sighs, picks her up like a little ball and sets her upright. "Motherfucker," he breathes under his breath, looking behind him for some imaginary support.

"Muddeeeer--ffffff-fugger!"

Joel's head snaps back forward. "No way, you didn't--"

"MuddaFugga!" She shouts back at him happily with her whole body. "Mudda fugga! Mudda - mudda fuggaa!!" She chants and claps, like its barney.

"No-nononono! Look at me Ellie! Say Dada! Dada!"

"Mudda fugga mudda fugga--"

"No, Ellie. Focus. Can you look at me. Focus. Fo-cus. Fo-cus--"

"F-f-fo...Fuk- its! Fuckits!!"

Joel stares in horror. She's chanting every bad word possible like its natural to her ears. Your sworn good girl has a tongue for profanities, and its gonna come down on him. He hears your footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Oh shit," he whispers.

Ellie picks right up on his tone and softly says "O shit," in her little voice, her face now very serious to mimick Joel's very concerned one.

"Are we practicing some words?" You asked gently, clearly not having heard exactly what was going on.

Ellie immediately opens her mouth to demonstrate "mudda--!"

Her lips --practically her whole face--are clamped shut by Joel's enormous palm. It doesn't stop her from babbling and salivating into his skin with utter incomprehensible mumbles as she tries to tell you every new word she's learned.

"Just same baby babbling is all," Joel shrugs at you, as Ellie continues to mumble profusely into his sweaty hand.

You let out a disappointed breath but nod. "I know that baby can talk. I didnt imagine it."

"I know baby, I believe ya. She's still just finding her voice is all."

You smile and then leave the room. His hand is coated in a thick blanket of baby drool, as Ellie continues going on: "mugga fudda sheetsheetsheet fukits!"

"Ellie."

She goes quiet and looks up at him.

"If mommy asks you where you learned these words. Who are you gonna say?" He squeezes his eyes, afraid she's genuinely not gonna have any other word inside her body except these three that she's been drilling into her own ears for thr last 5 minutes...

"Dada!"

His eyes go bright. "HOLY SHIT YA DID IT." launching over to scoop her up, he twirls and tosses her into the air.

"BABY. SHE SAID HER FIRST WORD. ITS--"

Ellie beats him to it-- "holy shet-MUVFA FUCKA!"

You drop your laundry basket. "JOOOOEEELLLLLLLLLL!!!"

He gulps hard, holding her to his chest like a shield.

At least her pronunciation is already improving.

- - - -

@jeewrites @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[propheticbride]

Spoiled Rotten

𐙚 After being dragged around by your shopaholic girlfriend, she rewards you even after catching an attitude with her.

𐙚 Wanda Maximoff x Reader (tw: none really, public fingering n stuffs, sex in public)

You're miserable. The only real word in your mental dictionary that kept flashing. Not only had you been woken up before ten, because let's be honest the princess needs her sleep. But you were now being dragged around the expensive mall like some keychain.

You sit on the soft leather loveseat, rolling your eyes every two seconds and watching as Wanda tries on another pair of heels.

‘I just need new shoes for some charity event Stark is throwing!’ she had promised.

How many heels did she need to try on? How important was this event?

You had watched her try on wedges, and two pairs of Louboutins (which she put back mind you) and now she was trying on a pair of thin strapped heels that arguably made her ankles look amazing.

Stop, you huff to yourself, you're supposed to be mad at her.

“Baby.” her voice calls.

You look up with a pout.

She doesn't seem to be happy about it either, sighing before doing a few laps and then flips her hair from her shoulder. “What do you think?”

Her gaze is on her ass in the mirror. Your gaze is on it too.

Stop. You're mad! “They're fine.” you reply dully, returning your chin to your propped up palms. You needed to make sure she knew you were bored.

Wanda sighs. “I don't think I like that tone very much.”

“So.” you roll your eyes.

Wanda takes the seat beside you, and leans in. For everyone else, it looks like a loving action between two girlfriends. But you know better.

“You should behave if you expect anything from me today. You're lucky that Natasha was busy today and couldn't take you.” Wanda’s breath feels warm against the shell of your ear and it takes everything in you not to get down on your knees and beg to please her.

But you're upset at her. You're stronger than this.

“Too bad. If Natasha had taken me today I wouldn't be so bored.” you can't help the attitude that comes naturally. You just can't.

You and Wanda had been dating for a couple of years. Having met at one of Tony Stark’s dinners where you were the bright fresh-out-of-high school intern who accidentally spilled wine on her and was more upset about her white dress being stained than the fact you spilled alcohol on a complete stranger.

She found it cute. Had asked you out. It took a couple of dates before you were in her bed, recovering from several orgasms.

You were in love. And so was she.

Wanda was a good lover, and an even better caretaker. But she was a very busy woman. And that's where Natasha had come in. Wanda’s best friend on the compound who was allowed to do everything Wanda did, only emotional connections weren't allowed. You didn't care, Wanda was enough for you.

Wanda never cared for your attitude, and always found a way to fuck it out of you. Whether it be her fingers, tongue, her several vibrators, or the pretty red sparkly strap you worshiped.

At the end of every tantrum, talk back, or sour attitude, you'd be sore and very sensitive. And so apologetic.

You think about it for a second. Full one eyebrow raise and a good cock of the head. “Mmmm…I'm sure I dunno what you're talking about.”

Wanda only smiles. Which makes your stomach drop.

“I love these ones. I'm going to go pay and I'll meet you outside.” Wanda presses a kiss to your head and hurrys to pay.

Despite being somewhat confused, you do as you're told and wait for her outside the store. As you stand there, your stomach begins to bloom anxieties. Tiny little somersaults. You hate not knowing what Wanda will do. Sometimes she was a sadist, other times a straight up sweetheart.

And sometimes you can tell when a certain punishment is coming your way. Other times, Wanda is sneaky and can surprise you. Even after years of punishment. She amazes you like that.

Despite being very vocal about what or what's not okay in the bedroom, Wanda is a very secretive woman. To the Avengers, and even to you. And no matter how much you beg or pry or give her puppy eyes, she doesn't budge. A true dom.

She doesn't give you much time to suffer in your thoughts as a hand is gently rubbing your back.

“What's wrong baby?” Wanda asks, a feigning of innocence in her voice.

“Nothing.” you insist.

“You’re pouting.” she brings her manicured nails up to your face.

“Aren't I always? I want to go home.” you cross your arms. You wonder how long she'll allow this to go on.

“I know. I'm sorry baby. How about ice cream at that cafe you love? Maybe a coffee?” she proposes.

You unwind your arms and go to rub your eyes in a sleepy motion. You think about it for a second, then nod, taking the hand she has held out for you.

✮⋆˙

The cafe is a nice, ten boothed, tucked in hole in the corner of the mall. Wanda orders you your mocha ice cream, with extra caramel to soften you up. For what, you have yet to know.

Wanda sits across from you, with her eyes glued to her phone while you eat and look around.

You enjoy these silences. You don't have to say much, just enjoy one another's presence.

“Wanda?”

Wanda glances up and you turn to look at the redheaded woman standing there. Ah there she is. The pit in your stomach grows.

“Natasha?” Wanda greets with a shake of the hand, and a wide smile on her face.

Natasha sits beside her, and they begin to talk about something that goes in one ear and out the other.

Boring Avengers talk perhaps.

Wanda’s foot begins to rub against your ankle, and you pause. You glance between them, wondering if she's planning something. She's completely wrapped up in the conversation as she manages to manipulate her socked foot up, and align it right against your clothed cunt.

You whimper slightly, causing Natasha to glance at you.

Baby what did I say about brain freezes?” Wanda giggles softly, pressing her foot into your already wet clothed core and begins moving it.

“Don't eat it so fast.” you mumble with ice cream still in your mouth.

Wanda begins to grind her foot more, extremely focused on your clit. “And?”

You swallow quickly, nodding. “Don't talk with your mouth full.”

Natasha smiles at you, then turns back to Wanda.

The best part about the cafe? No one can truly see you feverishly grinding against Wanda’s foot. Forehead matted with strands of hair and small whimpers leaving your mouth.

Wanda’s favorite thing about you?

You were shameless about your pleasure. You'd ride her thigh until you came at least three times, breathless and greedy for more, just while her friends were getting drunk in the kitchen. Or when you ate her out while Natasha fucked you, with other Avengers, Clint and Bruce, a door away.

Even when Wanda was exhausted and spent, she'd watch you with the vibrator or other toys to please yourself while moaning her name loudly. Loud enough that her friend had texted the following day asking if you were okay the next morning.

“Mmm I don't think she's listening to you Tasha.” Wanda says suddenly, pulling you from your thoughts.

When you open your eyes, when had you closed them? You see both of them looking at you.

“Such a pretty girl when in pleasure.” Natasha coos. “Didn't even listen to a word I said.”

You moan and grind harder.

“M’sorry.” you breathe out.

“I'm not even moving my foot anymore. It's all baby.” Wanda informs the other Avenger, leaning back.

“You really enjoy this don't you?” Natasha grins. You nod at her.

“Words.” Wanda warns.

“Yes, Natasha so much. Wand-”

Wanda suddenly pushed her foot forward, causing you to spiral head first into an orgasm. You try your best to stifle it, grinding against her and trying to level your breathing. Small whimpers leave your mouth.

“Try it again.” Wanda offers with a condescending half-smile.

“Daddy makes me feel really good.” you coo, rubbing your now soaked panties against her. Another expensive pair ruined.

It's not like Wanda minds your wetness, she loves it. If she could spend her entire day licking you clean, she would. She truly would.

You fail to realize Natasha has changed seats until her arms grab you and hoists you on her lap. She’s quick to rip your panties off and throw them to Wanda, who catches them and begins to play with them between her fingers.

Natasha pulls her pants down, her own red and black strap-on showing. She wastes no time sliding into your wet cunt and doesn't hesitate to buck up into you.

“Such a good girl isn't she?” Wanda smiles, waving the panties at you. A reminder of your current position. "So filthy she lets her daddy and her daddy’s friends play filthy games with her. Was nice enough to buy her ice cream after she gave me an attitude all morning. And she wastes it while her daddy and daddy’s friends fuck her."

“Truly spoiled. Not even Sharon is that pampered.” Natasha grunts.

You can't say anything. You're biting so hard on your bottom lip, you're drawing blood. But the metal taste doesn't bother you one bit. Your hands are bunched into fists, grabbing onto her shirt for dear life and all your girlfriend can do is smirk and play with your panties across from you.

Wanda is a very very mean woman when she wants to be.

No, it isn't fair, but she's too far gone on her power trip to care. Besides, she knows your limits like the back of her hand. And she's let the assassin play with you enough times to trust Natasha to know them as well.

“Because I allow it. She knows that.” Wanda is quick to correct Natasha’s comment. “Tasha?”

“Hm?” she mutters in response.

“Fuck her harder.” Wanda’s tongue traces her top teeth and there's a sadistic glint in her eye.

“Daddy-” you barely manage.

How anyone has yet to catch onto this public display of insanity is beyond you.

“I know.” Natasha kisses the back of your neck. “You're so behaved for her. Makes me jealous.”

“No it doesn't.” Wanda laughs. “You enjoy using her just as much as Sharon likes the idea of you using her. I still haven't forgotten that phone call of her getting off to you and her."

“I've been thinking.” Natasha begins to slow her thrusts, savoring it. “We should get them together.”

“I dunno.” Wanda shrugs. “Sharon can be mean, and she's very sensitive.”

“Sharon will behave.”

“Will she? I'm not sure Sharon knows how to behave.” she snorts, and slides your panties in her purse.

“I'll make her-” Natasha uses her full strength to thrust into you, causing you to cry out. “-behave.”

Wanda quickly looks around the cafe, everyone far too busy to hear your outburst. She calms and looks at you.

“I don't know. I like the idea but you know me. What baby wants, she gets. What she doesn't want, well I obey.” Wanda gives you a smile. You truly had all of the power in the relationship, and she knew it.

“Almost as if she's the one in control.” Natasha giggles.

“Oh she absolutely is, spoiled rotten aren't you?” Wanda insists.

“Yes daddy.” you nod at her.

“Would you like to see Sharon?” Natasha asks you, fixing hair out of your face.

You sniffle, still sensitive and not all there.

Wanda stands up, and holds her hand out to you. “Let's get you cleaned up princess.”

You take her hand and she wipes stray hairs from your face.

“So?” Natasha asks, re-buckling her belt.

“I'll arrange it.” Wanda makes sure you look decent enough to take to the bathroom.

Natasha stands and kisses your head. “Sharon’s really excited for a sleepover baby. Wanda text me later?”

Wanda only nods as Natasha takes her leave.

You look up at her as she leads you to the bathroom.

“I love you.” you whisper.

“I know, baby. I love you more.” she cups your cheek and leans in to kiss your nose.

[desi2go]

One photoshoot away from love

pairing: Minho x idol! reader

warnings: fluff

request: So reader is also a kpop idol but she's like only in the industry for 2-2.5 years. She's in a girl group and recently announced as global embassador of a luxury brand. This one time she would feature on magazine cover with one of stray kids' members and that member his her bias. The magazine cover is a success and their fan loving it and they get shipped together. And because she said he's her bias, that stray kids member said he gonna write her a song and he did and the internet kinda blow up.

Music. Music was alsways home. Something you could turn to when there was no way out. When everything terrified you or it seemed impossible to reach your dreams.

Music was your safe haven from a really young age. Just as a five year old toddler, you sang to all the songs in the radio even if you didn't even understood all the lyrics. You even bothered your parents to let you take lessons with a vocal coach for weeks until they finally agreed. Eventually, they seemed glad that you loved singing so much and happily supported you. You improved really fast and your angelic voice seemed to enchant everyone at every single performance at school.

Whenever someone asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up, the answer was clear. "I want to be a singer!" They all laughed at you, smiling and patting your head like they didn't even think that you could actually become one. For them it was just a dream, soon to be forgotten once you hit puberty and the reality, but you weren't joking. And you trained every day for it.

Around the age of ten, you started hearing some music from kpop groups and it was the first time you actually considered to audition at a company when you were old enough. They would give you training and support you when you were good enough. So, you convinced your parents to let you take some dance lessons too so that your chances for an acception would be higher.

Dancing was something you really enjoyed even though it wouldn't replace singing but it brought you even closer to the melody and the rhythm. You felt even more connected with the lyrics and the music all in all.

At the age of sixteen, you decided to give it a try. Several companies had announced auditions and you figured it would be the best time to try it. What could go wrong? You had trained for this moment your whole life and you couldn't be better prepared.

The auditions went really well and soon your held your acceptance in your hand to be a trainee at SM entertainment. Your parents were so proud of you and you loved the time as a trainee even though it was so difficult to balance school and training but you enjoyed the time. You learned so much in that tie and your singing as well as your dancing improved.

During your monthly presentations, your trainers noted your effort and improvement and after three years, you finally debuted in a girl group with four more girl you had met as a trainee. You were placed as one of the vocalists and visuals.

After debut, your group seemed to gain more and more attention from the fans and you must admit that you enjoyed to perform, the energy flowed through you carrying you like a wave.

Nearly three years after debut, it wasn't uncommon for you to have photoshootings for model magazines or other brands. But as soon as the message came that you would be the global ambassador of one of the most well-known luxury brand, you were shocked. This wasn't something that happenend all the time. And the brand was Gucci and they actually planned you to be on the magazine cover.

Just one week before the shooting, you received the message that you would model with Lee Know from Stray Kids. Since you loved Kpop since being a child, you knew pretty well who Lee Know was. I mean, how could you not? His group was really famous for their vibing songs and their chaotic behaviour.

And you were thrilled to meet him face to face. He was like a role model to you. When the other members of your group received the message, they were happy for you and urged to know who your bias in Stray Kids was, knowing damn well that you enjoyed listening to Kpop.

"Come on! You can't just keep it a secret! We won't tell anyone!" One member shouted, clapping excited with her hands.

"No. That's my secret" you claimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"I bet it's Lee Know" another stated and you tried to keep your face from burning up. How right she was...

The maknae noticed your shy behaviour. "HA! It is!" she laughed as you blushed and hid your face in your hands. Sometimes you hated them.

"That's so cool! You must tell us every little detail as soon as you're back" another demanded and you quickly escaped their hold to get to the location for the photoshoot.

During the whole drive, you were nervous and you bit your lip to get you to concentrate. You were an idol for god's sake, so act like one! But your hands got clammy when you stepped out of the car, following your manager inside the location.

You were already used to the turmoil with the manager and assitants running around. An assistant from Gucci greeted you with a bow and lead you to the dressing room. Precisely, she helped you change into a beautiful black dress that ended just above your knees, showing your long soft legs. It was made for you.

The soft faric hugged your body like a second skin, bringing your waist out and your chest. You felt like a queen. It exposed your shoulders and closed lowly around your neck, leaving space for a beautiful necklace.

The shoes were a dream in black, making you even taller and graceful. In Addition, your hair was styled in soft defined waves, falling over your shoulders. The makeup stylist worked on your face in the meantime. She applied foundation and a glowy highlighter as well as a brown eyeshadow that complimented your eyes and made them sparkle even more. The red lipstick brought the attention to your rounded lips, the only thing that had a colour so that it would glow in the photos.

After an hour, they had finished their work satisfied and the assistant lead you to the actual photo location. You felt the nervousness pumping through your veins as you greeted the photographer and the rest of the staff. Just moments later, Lee Know walked through the same door with a charming smile and a low bow to greet everyone.

He looked stunning in the black suit with the white chemise that exposed a bit of skin, leaving everything to your imagination. His hair was styled classy and showed off his beautiful eyes.

"Nice to meet you Y/n" he greeted you with a smile, taking your hand to shake it while he bowed deep. You replied in the same gesture. "Nice to meet you too. I'm honoured to work with you"

He smiled and patted your hand without anyone noticing. "I look forward to work with you"

Internally, you were freaking out like a teenager crushing over meeting her role model. You felt the blush on your cheeks and tried everything to keep it low.

The photographer explained to you both how you should express yourself on the photos even stating what poses he wanted to see.

You swallowed and moved yourself in front of the white background with Minho following. You started with simple things, leaning your back against each other while staring at the camera with a dashing smile. His back was warm and you felt the muscles under his clothes, soft but at the same time strong.

The other pose showed strength and intimacy. Minho was sitting tall behind you, leaning slightly forward to show more of his skin that was exposed by the open bottoms of his chemise. His right arm rested on his knee, giving him a composed and thoughtful look. His facial expression is confident with his gaze directed to the photographer.

You were seated in front of him, leaning forward as well with your body slightly angled towards the camera. Your elbow was resting on your knee, emphazising your long legs and your hand supported lazily your head.

The photographer liked those photos and during the shooting, both you and Minho laughed a lot, connecting really fast when you told him that you had a cat too.

You two shared some funny cat stories and grew more comfortable around the other.

The photographer suggested more intimacy in the photos. In this image, you two posed intimately close. He stood behind you, your faces close together as he rested his head over your shoulder. You chose a soft and serene gaze to pierce through the camera. you felt one of Minho's hand sneaking around your waist, pulling you even closer. Your physical proximity showed a subtle mixure of tenderness and resilience.

The photographer was pleased with the outcome and thanked you for working so well. Even after finishing the shooting, you couldn't stop speaking with him. He was so kind-hearted and funny, inspiring you. And soon, you were back your dorms, sad that the experience was over.

Some weeks later, the magazine was published with you and Minho on the cover. It was an understatement to say that the fans went wild. Social media was full of images of the photoshooting and nearly everyone shipped you both, making you blush.

When you went live one evening to speak to your fans, you read often the question if you and Minho were a pair. You declined and even more messages followed, asking you different things about Minho. Sadly, you couldn't give many answers and when they questioned who your bias was, you admitted shy that he was it.

The fans went wild again and you were now completely sure that Minho knew about your secret crush on him.

Chan from Stray Kids announced in one of his livestreams that Minho had been working on an own song since his photoshoot for Gucci and fans spaculated that it had something to do with you.

Weeks when the hype went down a bit, Minho released a single. At first, due to training you couldn't listen to it but when fans went wild again, claiming that he definitely wrote it for you, you needed to hear it.

It was a love ballad and you loved the melody and rhythm at the first notes. His soft voice told a story about a girl he met. In the song, he described her as beautiful, the deep red lips that attracted him like it was essential for surviving.

I saw you there, in that moment of light A vision in black, like the stars in the night Your deep red lips whispered things you didn’t say And I stood frozen, as the world slipped away

You didn’t know it, but you captured my soul Every glance you gave me made me lose control The camera was flashing, but all I could see Was the way you moved, like a shadow's melody

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

Your smile was soft, like a hidden sunrise But there was fire burning deep in your eyes You moved like a dream, as the lights hit your face And I knew I was lost, caught up in your grace

I kept my distance, but inside I screamed You walked through my life like a midnight dream I wanted to tell you, but how could I dare To let you know that I was falling right there

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

Maybe one day, you'll hear this song In the quiet of night, when the world feels wrong And maybe you’ll wonder who it was for But I’ll just stay silent, forever wanting more

You're the midnight that I can't forget Wrapped in a mystery I haven't solved yet The way you move, like whispers in the air A perfect storm that I can’t help but stare In the silence, your elegance stays Draped in the night, in a world of shades

In the shadows, I’ll keep you near A secret flame, forever clear You’ll always be a part of me This hidden love, my melody...

You coudln't stop the smile forming on your lips. "Vision in black" was definitely a metaphor for a black dress and the red lipstick hinted that this song was adressed to you. Tears formed in your eyes at the intimacy of the song.

Just seconds later, a message plopped up on your phone. A message on instagram from Minho.

<<Hoped you liked my song>> he had texted with a cat emoji and a smile formed on your lips as you answered quick.

[cigsand]

﹕ BROTHERLY BOND

Slight Yandere! Gojo Satoru x M! Reader | platonic

writer's notes: might make a part 2 on this but I'm not really sure. But maybe I will or not. Requests are also open !

synopsis: Y/n gets sent to a mission by their sensei; Gojo Satoru who supervises him.

warnings: Yandere themes, delusional gojo, obsessive themes, degradation. Use of he/him

credits to the owner of the drawings above ↑

Y/n, a first grade sorcerer from Tokyo Jujutsu High. He was on his way to their home room with Yuji trailing behind him. “Hey — wait up.” Yuji said trying to keep up his pace with the other.

“Oh — sorry.” Y/n mutters, stopping to look over his shoulder. Yuji smiles at him. “No worries, let's go!” He grinned, patting his shoulder.

Y/n nodded, walking behind the energetic pink haired boy. The two of them weren't technically close because of his under the weather personality and yuji is somewhat energetic and vocal but they try their best for their conversations to not be awkward, keyword; try.

The hallways were lit by the light outside as they walked, stopping at a wooden sliding door. Yuji was the first one to enter the classroom with y/n hesitating. He felt his stomach start to churn, it only happens whenever something bad is about to occur. He brushed it off as hunger since he didn't eat earlier this morning.

He went inside seeing his sensei and other friends. Gojo perked up seeing the young sorcerer enter the homeroom, standing up properly and putting his hands inside his pockets. “Since everyone else is here, let's start!” He grins.

Y/n sat down next to Nobara who greeted him. “Good morning, Y/n.” She smiled at the younger male. “Good morning to you too, Nobara.” He returned the smile to her.

“Alright listen up, my students!” Gojo sang the last bit, grinning. Clapping his hands to get their attention like a kindergarten teacher trying to get little kids to pay attention to them and it worked.

“Most of you did absolutely well during your last missions yet..” He trailed off, his eyes that are being covered by a blindfold glances at y/n. “One of you did hm.. how do I say it?” He tapped a finger on his chin, seemingly deep in thought.

The two—nobara and yuji—were nervous except megumi and y/n, they both knew they successfully nailed their missions without any casualties except for megumi, he encounters a bunch of curses at the same time. “Terrible? Disappointing? No no.. bad!” He snickered at how nervous the two were.

“Gojo-Sensei!” Nobara and Yuji cried out, hugging each other with yuji wrapping his arms around her neck, the respectful man that he is, he doesn't want to be called a pervert or anything of sorts by Nobara! “Please — just tell us! Even if the truth hurts” Yuji dramatically said, placing the back of his hand on his forehead as comical tears run down his face.

Gojo smirked, he lifted his hand — pointing towards Y/n who stiffens up, staring at the hand of his sensei. “Y/n-kun! I must say that I'm quite disappointed!” He placed his hands on his hips shaking his head as if he was his parent.

“What!?” Nobara shouted, his mouth agape looking over to the younger sorcerer. “But Gojo-Sensei, Y/n has been doing extremely well-” Yuji butted in but got shot down by Satoru.

“Ah-ah! No buts!” He sighs, the smile plastered on his face on a daily basis, finds its way back. The sorcerer knew that he has been doing fantastic with the missions he's been receiving and it frustrated him because he can't play the hero for his self-proclaimed brother once.

“You’ll be going on a mission, supervised by the one and only — strongest sorcerer, me! To make up for it of course” He cheered, clasping both of his hands together with flowers floating around him, it quickly dispersed when Y/n chimed in.

“Gojo-Sensei — I think there has been a misunderstanding. I successfully exorcised every curse that I encountered during my missions.” He said, looking at the white haired male. He clenches his pants in his hands. “Did I?..” He muttered, questioning himself.

“Technically speaking — ye- no?.. But besides the point, I'll be supervising you to check if you do in fact do well.”

Y/n grumbles, cursung under his breath before looking at the desk in front of him. “And what type of curse will I be fighting against?” He questioned the older male.

“A special grade curse!” Silence overtook the entire room whilst Gojo shifted his eyes looking at every one of them with a grin on his face.

“WHAT?”

“Oh.. I'm gonna die.” Y/n whispered, tugging on his hair sweating furiously. He slammed his head on the table.

“Isn’t that too much, Gojo-Sensei?” Megumi spoke up, squinting his eyes at their teacher who waved off his concern. “It’s fine! Plus he has me.” Gojo posed, sticking his tongue out. The black haired male knew of his obsession over the sorcerer who was the same age as him yet a higher grade level than him. He knew of satoru's twisted delusional plan yet he didn't interfere knowing the white haired male wouldn't be too happy.

“Still he can't fight— fight a special grade.” Megumi argued.

“I appreciate your concern for - y/n but he's a first grade sorcerer, he can handle it just fine.”

Their glare to each other was intense, not one of them backing down like it was some competition they intend to win — it was like they were communicating through their eyes. A hand patted megumi's shoulder making him look over to y/n who held a nervous smile. “It’s fine — really, gumi’.” He said, taking a deep breath.

“Y/n can't die!”

“He has so much to live for!”

Nobara and yuji cried as they hugged the boy tightly, sniffling. “I’m not dying — I think.” Y/n muttered.

“You think!?”

“Alright that's enough.” Gojo sighs, grabbing the two's collar and lifting them up away from the first grade sorcerer. “Other than that, you're all free to go! Oh and y/n, meet me at 7 pm outside the gates.” He grinned, throwing the two on the floor before skipping towards the door with his hands outstretched, pink flowers surrounding his figure as he giggled away from them.

Y/n deadpanned, shaking his head. “I guess, I need to prepare?..” He stood up, the chair behind him falling backwards as he lazily walked up to the sliding door.

“Y/n! Let's hang out before you die!” Yuji shouted, smiling before getting smacked by the back of his head by megumi who glared at him. “He’s not going to die.” He claimed, looking down at his feet.

“It’s not like Gojo-sensei will let him.” He whispered causing Yuji to look up at him confused. “Did you say something, megumi?” He asked, scratching the back of his head.

The said male shook his head, following the rest to where they are headed.

“Oh! Oh we should go on a shopping spree with gojo-sensei's credit card!” Nobara suggested, stars forming in her eyes as she stared at the sky thinking of how much clothes she can buy with their sensei's card.

“What about we go to a cafe instead?..” Y/n nervous giggled, pulling the two other males. Once they got there, they sat down at the four seater table near the window. “fuwaa! look at those shops.” Nobara pressed her hands in the window, ranting about them.

Megumi stood up. “I’ll go ahead and order our usuals.” He nodded before going to the counter. Y/n was left with Yuji — who was sitting beside nobara — and her. 'this is going to be a long day..' He thought.

A few hours went by and it was time for y/n and satoru to go. “waa! don’t die on us, Y/n!” Yuji cried out, slapping his cheek when a mouth appeared. “Sukuna..” Y/n muttered under his breath, sweatdropping at the pink haired male who was beating his face to get rid of the extra mouth. Sukuna was spewing in about how the h/c haired boy will die in a gruesome and painful way, laughing before Yuji punched the mouth.

“It’s time for us to go now, Y/n." Satoru said passing by the group, opening the back seat door. The young sorcerer got in and he did as well. The car ride made y/n almost pass out but he tried not to fall asleep. Satoru kept his eyes on him the entire ride towards the destination.

“We're here!” Satoru skipped towards the gate of the abandoned school, it made y/n shiver just by looking at it. He was going to find the special grade there?

Nonetheless he followed the blindfolded man, the gates were already open and the conditions of it were bad, rust and mold were on the metal.

The surrounding area was pitch black. It scared y/n but satoru was going with him right?

“Now go inside! I must warn you that this curse is very very strict and that's probably why it chose to be here.” Satoru said, scratching his chin. He was hinting that the curse was a teacher of sorts in this abandoned school.

“Aren’t you coming along, sensei?..” Y/n looks at him desperately.

Satoru pretended to think before giggling. “No but I'll still be able to look after you throughout the entire school.” He grinned, pushing the young sorcerer inside the dark entrance.

“Wait — wait! Sensei!” Y/n breath hitched as he was pushed inside the school. He heard the door shut close and a click, his hand fumbled inside his pocket — pulling out his phone and turning the flash light on. He breathed out heavily, feeling his stomach churn again.

Maybe this was a sign to leave.

Yet Y/n was determined, taking small steps around the hallways. It terrified him to the core, the curse might pop out at any given time. He sighs in relief seeing the hallways with the windows lit up by the two lamp posts outside. He went upstairs, holding back a shout when he stepped on a dead rat, a shiver ran down his body, continuing to go to the second floor hallways.

He began to think about the curse; was it roleplaying as a teacher? If he made enough ruckus in the hallways would it come out considering satoru told him that it was strict. But then again, what he's fighting is a special grade curse. He needs to be extra careful—

Y/n felt a shiver run down his spine as everything felt heavy all of the sudden, he turned around seeing the curse or teacher inhumane face directly in front of his. He screamed in terror, jumping back. He was careful enough to not drop the phone — gojo bought for him.

It shrieked making some of the lockers drop on the floor, y/n gritted his teeth preparing to use his curse technique.

Gojo stood outside the school on a phone call. “I’m going to send the money later, I’m busy supervising my brother on a mission.” He cut the woman off. On the other side of the call, mei mei raised both of her brows hearing the word 'brother'. She didn't know he had one. He hung up the phone before she could reply, twirling it around his fingers.

He heard a loud shriek — that rumbled the ground — coming from inside the school, smirking. He slowly approached the entrance doors.

Meanwhile Y/n got thrown across the hallway, he groans before standing up to see the curse infront of him already. He barely dodged the attack by crouching down and side stepping trying to get away from the angered curse. “Fuck—where's gojo-sensei when you need him!?” he sneered, outstretching his arms in front of him.

Thread manipulation.

A few translucent threads came out of his finger tips as he prepared to use his curse technique. He made the end of the threads sharp, extremely sharp. He reeled his arms back before launching it forward. The threads travelled quickly to the special grade curse, piercing its body.

Y/n breathed heavily, this was consuming his energy and he didn't like that one bit. The curse broke the threads quickly making him panic because it was limited. “Fuck—” that was the last thing he said before staring up to see the leg of the special grade curse, it was going to slam him to the ground. Time seemingly was in slow motion. 'am I going to die here?' He thought.

A small crater was made, the floor was slightly shattered and the ceiling was close to falling, dust particles float around. Y/n felt the air knocked out of him, he was lucky the curse didn't thrust it's foot further into his stomach or else he would've had died.

Y/n rolled over, a rock hitting his side making him wince in pain, dogding another attack from the curse. He hoped that it wouldn't execute its domain too early, knowing his was weaker since he just started to learn a few months ago.

He stumbled into getting up, a few of his threads broke meaning he only has limited use against the special grade. “Curse technique: bindin—” The curse slammed its fist to y/n's stomach — resulting him into being thrown back, making a hole on the wall of the school.

Blood came out of his mouth as he rolled on the cemented ground, the impact made his head spin. He was going to die, tears slowly built up in his eyes. He was breathing hard, looking up at the wall seeing the curse walking up slowly to it, trying to find him.

Y/n tried to stand up, wincing as pain shot up in his shoulder. “fuck— that's fractured for sure.” he whispered, he stood up shakily. Lifting his hands towards the hole in the wall, making a web of barriers — using all of his threads — he sat down.

Y/n perked up, looking up beside him. “Gojo-sensei!” he shouted seeing the white haired man next to him looking ever so relaxed. He lazily waved to him before looking at the barrier he made. “Can't fight anymore?” he hummed.

“That's some cool barrier you did there.” Satoru didn't wait for a reply, seeing the threads get snapped as the curse ripped it one by one. He stepped forward getting in front of y/n. “Only a matter of time before it snaps.” He shrugged.

“You can take a few more hits, right?" Leaning forwards, and tilting his head as if he was mocking him. Y/n shook his head, feeling the pain from his shoulder intensifying. “Ah that's too bad then.” Satoru pouted, standing up properly. He looked over his shoulder. “I'm impressed that the barrier is holding up pretty well. That's just because that stupid curse isn't smart enough to break the wall beside the barrier." He chuckles at his own words.

“You can deal with it right, y/n?”

“Wait—please- help me, I can't- I'm gonna die- you told me that- you'll 'elp me!”

“Nah, you look just fine!” Satory mocked him, analyzing his appearance. His mouth and nose were covered in blood, his uniform ripped in some places. Hair tangled by the mix of blood and rocks. It made his head ache.

“No — gojo-sensei, I'm- I'm gonna pass out at this rate.” He stuttered out, closing his eyes trying to stay conscious for a bit longer. “Too bad, I'm only here to supervise and not intervene.” Gojo grins sinisterly.

“Gojo-sensei—.”

Gojo shushed him, kneeling in front of the sorcerer. “I’m kidding, I'm kidding.” He chuckled before continuing. “Now isn't this a sight to see.” He said sarcastically. It was time for him to play the hero. He lifted his hand and caressed his hair. “Did you even manage to get a hit?” He shook his head chuckling.

“Don't worry, Y/n.. I'll take good care of you. I wouldn't be a good brother if I didn't right?” He tilted his head again, he was getting impatient, cupping y/n's face with his hands to make the h/c headed male look at him. Someone can call him a sadist for being happy to see him beaten up and pleading desperately for him to help but he doesn't care. “A weak and pathetic excuse of a sorcerer, you are brother.”

“I- gojo-sensei..” Y/n's ear rang, his eyes unfocused and blurry. “What?..” Then his head plopped forward, passed out. The said male stared at him for a second before standing up from his position and turning around to confront the curse who broke out of the barrier. He grinned. “You sure did rough him up, hm?”

“Don't worry, I’ll make this quick and painful.” Satoru said, stretching his arms out and legs. He stood up, lazily lifting his arm. Pointing a finger at the curse who looked confused, a red void appears on his finger in a circular shape.

“Curse technique reversal: Red.”

[philosophicaltrashcan]

Isha headcanons because she survived

I read somewhere that her being mute may not only be due to trauma, but also due to the polluted air she has been breathing her entire life in Zaun, which could have affected and damaged her vocal cords.

She is quite small for her age

She lost her parents in a mining collapse when she was about six years old.

She grew up very poor, and had to work in the mines alongside her family, for them to afford their daily needs. The working conditions weren't always the best, and they were not always treated respectfully by their supervisor, but Isha had always been a tough child though, and would't let them step on her, even though it often got her in a lot of trouble.

Isha wears her mother's helmet.

After losing her parents, Isha lived on the streets for a long time. Even though she may have found temporary safety, it was never for long, and most of her time was spent running or hiding. She had to steal to get her food, and quickly became quite good at it, but sometimes she had to fight to keep it.

Her parents were strongly political, and a part of Vander's uprising against Piltover.

She likes spiders

Jinx gave Isha her old bunny plushie, and now she never lets it out of sight. She holds little tea parties with it, and sometimes beatles and spiders get to join, too.

Isha is a ferocious climber - she climbs the roofs, the pipes, the vents, and Jinx has yet to tell her that she is a much better climber than she was at her age (the gangs never catch up on her).

She is afraid of the dark (the only thing she is afraid of), which is why Jinx has made sure to decorate their quarters with as many night lights as she can find.

She hates spinach

She likes painting, and when someone had made a painting of Jinx on one of the walls in Zaun, she was the one to color her braids blue.

Even though she is very young, she knows how to cook simple stuff, like porridge or eggs, as she often used to help her parents with small things in the kitchen.

Jinx taught her to braid her own hair (she practiced on Sevika)

Cat person

Y'all know Isha is that kind of kid who bites people

I see a lot of fanart where Isha lost her leg in the explosion of Jinx's overloaded gun, and I like to think that Jinx made a prosthetic for her, that they both helped to decorate, just like she did with Sevika's arm.

Isha is that one kid who originally wants to bake, and then ends up eating the paste directly out of the bowl.

Isha seems to be obsessed with setting things on fire, which frightens even Jinx

As she is mute, she can't sing, but when she can, she likes humming to herself

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Imagine:

When you and Lucci became a thing, everyone seemed surprised (especially Paulie, but he never made a move on you directly, so he just took the news).

Lucci didn't seem to be the kind of guy who could sweep a woman from her feet, not even someone like you. Usually, you were allowed to go to the galley-la company to bring Paulie his lunch, since he was always short on finances, and meeting the silent man was almost inevitable.

He had some kind of charm that dragged on himself. Maybe it was the misterious aura on him; maybe it was the fact that he was one of the most trusted men of the company, but you fell for his advances.

To your dismay. 

Red flags started to pop up as mushrooms; sometimes they were blatantly there, others were so subtle that you needed a double check to be sure that your mind wasn't playing truck on you.He showed his real voice to you without the help of Hattori, and it wasn't a pleasant memory at all.

He started to point up things that he didn't like, things that you needed to change. He forced you to stop going to work, promising that he would provide for you. You wondered if those funds were really from his Carpenter work.

He was jealous; he hated the idea of other men who could lay their finger on you. He knew he was the best option for you, but you fell for him so easily. Who knows how easily you could have fallen for someone else? So he told you to stop seeing any other possible suitor, and he stopped you on your daily visit to Galley-La.

You didn't want that; you vocalized how stupid and childish his orders were, and so he became more aggressive.

Your parents had hit you —not so much, just enough. His slaps and punches were made to hurt you.

He didn't hit you in the fog of some blind rage; he did it because he wanted to and because maybe he found some pleasure in it. He likes that no matter the situation, he has control over you and your life. 

Even at night, in the privacy of the bedroom, he couldn't bring anything but pain. It was like he never knew how to actually love, and you were on the receiving end of his cruelty.

At some point, maybe you even started to believe him.

You thought that, maybe, that was a punishment for something, maybe a sinnmadrbin to your precious life. You didn't know; you didn't want to know. At some point, accepting and following his instructions were the only ways to tolerate the pain.

That day you just needed a quick stop at the shop, a few minutes enough for him to not notice that you finished something in the fridge (it was milk?. Maybe...). No one needed to notice you; no one needed to even know that you were out alone in the street; no one needed to-

When you collided with Paulie, escaping again from some creditors, maybe you were trapped on your feet. Seeing you around was such a surprise for him!

Lucci told everyone that you were sick these days; others said that work was hard on you. Geez It seemed like you were trying to avoid everyone! But you shouldn't be around the city in bad health; you weren't a child anymore, and you needed rest.

But, for some reason, when he bunched a little on your shoulder, he noticed a small flinch, like you were in pain.He hated it, but he wanted, no need, to check your shoulder. What if you weren't in the worst condition that Lucci had told everyone?

He noticed a bruise... Three. ...Six. ...A few of them had the shape of a hand.

You weren't aware of what exactly happened. After Paulie had dragged you to his apartment, You can only guess at his behavior when he opened the door, all mash up, with a black eye and a bleeding nose.

"He won't bother you again. Stay as long as you want here."