#i feel a new h inspired tattoo coming

[ceruleantinted]

lonely is the muse is so so precious to me.

yeaaaaaars ago, i wrote a lil poem. obv words are not as golden and lyrical as h’s (they are a genius) but i felt like i heard my poem in a halsey song and that was so fucking unexpected. i don’t share my poems with any other soul but i wanted to for this one.

it’s now canon. lonely and forgotten is the muse.

[kookslastbutton]

Best Intentions ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: As vice president, you are obligated to attend your boss's wedding–you're also his friend. But while you should be focused on the newlyweds, you find yourself far too interested in the attractive best man and the woman who happens to be his plus one.

Pairing: best man!yoongi x vice president!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, slight thriller, s2l, oneshot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,753

Warnings: No infidelity, dark yoongi, sexual content, death (not major character)

sexual warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, cussing, handj*b, unprotected s*x (don't follow their lead!), penetration, car sex, d*rty talk, they c*me together, yoongi has tattoos

Now Playing: Haegeum

A/N: Little nervous about this one butI haven't written fic inspired by Haegeum yet so here we go! Hope you enjoy 💞

You watch as he brushes a few pieces of his dark locks out of his face. Never have you seen such a handsome and alluring man. He takes a seat on the barstool, nodding at the bartender in greeting. “Whiskey, neat. And a sex on the beach for the lady.”

He turns his head over his right shoulder, sparing a glance at the gentle hand resting on him. The woman who it belongs to is nothing short of radiant and confident. Her body is athletically built, her skin soft but tough. Her name is Yeong-Ja and she happens to be his plus one.

“__.” She smiles at you with ruby-red lips. “Why don’t you join us?” Her tone is thick and laced with sensuality. You fight the temptation but you feel instantly small compared to her. It’s not that you find yourself unattractive or anything but Yeong-Ja has a certain aura that’s incredibly rare.

The man, Min Yoongi, sets his gaze on you with a similar intensity. You only met the both of them about half an hour ago and they were already perfectly successful at making your bones quake. You’ve heard the idea of power couples a million times and though Min Yoongi and Yeong-Ja weren't officially together, you'd be a fool to think I'd never happen. They came here together after all.

“Thank you for the invite,” you reply, keeping your eyes as firm as you can. “But I still need to pay my respects to President Kim and his lovely new wife.”

Yeong-Ja taps Yoongi twice, signaling him to stand up. “I need to do that too actually. Why don’t we go together?”

He stays seated despite her gesture. “The drinks haven’t come out yet. I’ll wait for them if you two wanna go.” He looks at you again with his piercing, cat-like eyes. “You sure you don’t want anything __?”

You smooth down the sides of your dress, a nervous response you picked up since a teenager. You wish he wouldn’t follow the movement but he does. “Sure, maybe a strawberry daiquiri.”

Yoongi gives a nod and asks the bartender to include it in the order. “Thank you,” you say.

“Shall we?” Yeong-Ja breaks from Yoongi to near your side. “President Kim’s about to have a ton of guests giving their congratulations. It’s best we do it before the newlyweds run out of steam.”

You nod and make your way to the wedding table.

"Congratulations President and Mrs. Kim." You bow in respect until you're pulled into a light hug.

"Thank you __," Mrs. Kim says. You'd be surprised by the hug if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have known each other since before she and your boss first started dating.

You were the one to set them up actually.

You never thought you'd have that much gull with your boss but you and Seokjin had been working together for a long time. You considered him a friend.

"I'm very happy for the both of you." You smile warmly and embrace Mrs. Kim a little tighter. "And you make such a beautiful bride."

Once broken apart, Yeong-Ja bows herself. "President Kim, Mrs. Kim." They bow in return. "I'm honored to be a guest at your wedding. I wish you both a strong, healthy marriage."

Mrs. Kim smiles wide and touches the woman on the wrist. "Thank you Yeong-Ja....I'm hoping to be a guest at your wedding as well. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Yoongi been seeing each other?"

Swallow it. That suddenly sick, queasy feeling in your stomach. If Yoongi was planning to get serious with Yeong-Ja, it's none of your business.

Yeong-Ja blushes and lets out a small chuckle. "Of course, I'll be sure to invite you to my wedding but I'm afraid that won't be anytime soon. Yoongi and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks."

Weeks? With the chemistry they have you figured they were at least at months.

"I wouldn't be too set on it being far out into the future," Seokjin says. "One of my colleagues got married after only six months of dating his girlfriend."

"Who was that?" You mouth to which he replied with 'gguk'. Ah, makes sense now.

"Plus," Seokjin continues, "Yoongi's always talking about you and that's saying a lot considering he's pretty brief in general. Whatever you got, it's keeping his attention." He blinks up and cracks a smirk. "Speak of the devil."

Yoongi walks towards the group of you with a drink in each hand. You really need to not stare at his perfectly chiseled face, stoic eyes, and slicked-back hair. Especially after hearing that he's been practically gushing about Yeong-Ja. Still, a bitch doesn't listen.

"Strawberry daiquiri." He passes you your drink before handing Yeong-Ja hers. "And a sex on the beach." He keeps a straight face as he does this.

You notice he's taken his suit jacket off since your last interaction. His sleeves are rolled up too, veins softly protruding.

"Many thanks," you say, taking a sip. "Where's your whiskey?" You distinctively remember him asking the bartender for one but it's nowhere in sight.

Yoongi gives a quick shrug. "Already drank it."

Before another word is spoken the stereos in the reception are cranked up. Yeong-Ja takes a sip of her drink and then snakes her hand into Yoongi's arm. "Come on, we should dance. You too __."

You shake your head. Absolutely not. Dancing is fun when you're with friends but not so much with couples. You learned that the hard way many times when you'd be told that you'll all dance together.

Wrong for you to fall for that.

As soon as a slow, sensual song came on, you'd be hitting the bar or going back to your claimed table in the corner.

"No I'm good. I wanna sit and enjoy my drink for now." You lift your glass to make your point clearer.

Yeong-Ja smiles at you, then tightens her grip around Yoongi's arm and drags him to the dance floor.

You try not to watch them.

You even try sitting in the chair facing opposite of them.

But you look like a wallflower.

Several men come up to you to ask you if you want to dance, thinking you're only waiting for an invitation. Nice of them to offer but you take no interest.

The only man you remotely have your mind on is currently being swayed by another woman. And after about twenty minutes of watching, you find out that Yeong-Ja is not only a sharp thinker and sweet talker—she's also a stunning dancer.

You can tell at first Yoongi is half-assing it but once she starts getting into the beat, his efforts double.

When it comes to the slower songs, however, you can't help but notice a shift in his posture. Yeong-Ja links both arms around his neck in an effort to close the gap between her and Yoongi. It doesn't close, however, as he keeps a safe distance.

It's odd, to say the least but maybe he's just not used to that type of intimacy yet. You continue to study the two of them until you're caught red-handed. Yoongi's eyes shift over to peer into yours.

You have to snap yourself out of your daze a few times. He's definitely just staring off due to the somber music. He's not looking at you.

Oh, shit—he is.

Yoongi traces his eyes down the lines of your dress, all the way down your bare legs and back up to your eyes. His gaze is heavy and gives you goosebumps.

You grip your glass with one hand while the other clings to the edge of your dress, earning you a half-smirk from him.

Fuck.

He's a man of few words but his non-verbals speak volumes.

"She's not his girlfriend." Seokjin looks up at you from his seated position. Mrs. Kim was mingling with some of her close friends so you seized the chance to ask Seokjin about what had just happened. You needed a second opinion. "But they came here together so I assume they're going out. Are you sure he was giving you suggestive looks?"

"I mean, they weren't that suggestive but he definitely body-scanned me and smirked." You pause before continuing. "I'm trying not to think about it in case—uh I don't know. I'm sorry, it's your wedding day and I shouldn't be bothering you about this stuff."

"__, we've been working basically side by side for ten years. Yes I'm your boss still but right now I'd like to think we're friends. You're not bothering me, okay? And as far as Yoongi goes, just ignore it. He was likely smiling at you and it came off as a smirk. If it happens again maybe ask him about it because as far as I know, things are going good between him and Yeong-Ja." Obviously not that well if he's checking out someone else. You bite back the need to speak your mind.

"Okay," you agree. "You're right. It was likely just nothing."

"But you didn't finish your sentence." Seokjin pipes up before you return to your seat. "You're trying not to think about in case what?"

Let's see....how to reply while remaining subtle as possible. Seokjin and Yoongi are close friends so you need to choose your words very carefully.

Telling him you have interest in Yoongi when he's told you over and over again that he's seeing someone would not end well. A classic Kim Seokjin scold would be in dire order.

"....just in case I'm just being foolish or exaggerating what really happened." You say the words casually, no a trace of a fib. "But thanks Seokjin, for letting me talk to you about it."

"Hey." Yoongi catches you in the hallway. Apparently also needed to use the restroom. You do your best to shrug off what happened earlier.

"Hi, how was dancing?" You ask stupidly.

"It was alright. Not usually my thing but I guess I didn't mind. You sure you didn't wanna join us though? Saw a few guys come up to you."

"You saw that?" And here you were thinking you were delusional for thinking Yoongi was purposefully paying attention to you. It causes a twinge of adrenaline to zap through your body. "I didn't really feel like dancing today, that's all."

For a second you and Yoongi exchange silence. You're not sure if he's done talking or if you need to fill the space with more small talk.

"I'm glad it was better for you than usual. Yeong-Ja looks like she knows what she's doing." You fake a small laugh, hoping to break the tension but Yoongi's face remains straight. "Well I should get back in there." You end up slowly walking away but he stops you.

"We don't know each other super well but, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."

"What are you refering to?"

Yoongi gives you a 'really' look before flashing a gummy smile. It's the first time tonight you've seen him smile so fully. Your breath hitches as he continues. "I think we both know the answer to that. Don't you know how captivating you look in this dress?"

If your mouth wasn't gaping before it such as heck is now. But as giddy as the compliment makes you, you're in no way going to mess up a potentially blossoming relationship. You sure as hell hope that Yoongi isn't double-crossing Yeong-Ja, even if you do wish you'd be in her shoes a little.

"Um, not to be so forward but aren't you with Yeong-Ja? I appreciate the compliment though I'd—"

"We're not serious."

"Excuse me?" You as so utterly lost. Sure he and Yeong-Ja weren't together officially yet but they came here as each other's date. Seokjin and his wife were also making comments about their supposedly romantic relationship and she wasn't denying it so why is he coming onto you like this?

"That didn't come out right. I mean, we're not together romantically but we do work together. I asked her to come because I figured she'd be good company. Seokjin thinks we mold together well but I'm not really interested. To keep it short, I respect her as a coworker and consider her in the highest regard, professionally."

"You're not lying to me right? Because she seems really interested and I don't want to get in the way of anything. I'm not that type of woman alright?" You cross your arms reflexively.

Yoongi takes a step towards you, focused intent. "I have no reason to lie to you __. It's true Yeong-Ja may be interested but she's not the one I've spent half the night staring at."

The hairs on your neck stand straight. Blood rushes through your veins. "You should probably tell Yeong-Ja your feelings then."

"I did," Yoongi interuppts. "When we were back in there she came onto me. I thought all the slow, romantic music was getting to her but she kept trying to kiss me so I had to tell her I wasn't interested in anything beyond friendship."

"Oh, well, is she okay or—"

"She'll be fine. She's like me, not much fazes her. She's likely hitting on the next guy that takes her fancy now." Yoongi inches closer, and you take in the cologne he's wearing. It's subtle but enough to knock you out of your senses. "So you see, I'm not that kind of man either."

"Well good because I would have kicked you in the balls if you were double-crossing Yeong-Ja."

Yoongi snorts. "I'd expect nothing less. But thankfully, my balls are safe for now."

Great, now you're thinking about his balls. Yoongi's breath blows hot against your skin as the space between you seems to get narrower and narrower.

"Do you wanna get out of here for a bit?" He asks with a hoarse voice. "I was thinking about going out for a quick smoke."

"I don't smo—" Yoongi quirks a provocative brow. "Oh, " you finish, knowing full well he isn't proposing to have just a smoke.

You shudder as he towers above you in the backseat of his Bentley. Evidently, Yoongi did well for himself. "We shouldn't be doing this here." When Yoongi proposed you to go out, you didn't expect him to be this quick to get down and dirty.

Fooling around is one thing, but fucking in the backseat of his car in the middle of a wedding is a whole new animal for you.

"No one's gonna see if that's what you're worried about. Everyone's too busy wishing the newlyweds well..." His car is short on space but Yoongi manages to remove his silk vest. The skin of his smooth chest peeks out near the collar of his dress shirt. "But if you wanna stop here then, I won't force you any further."

God this is so indecent but you want him so, so bad. His body on yours, in yours—fuck him for being this hard to resist. You grip the fabric of his shirt and tug him back down.

Yoongi takes the opportunity to sink his head near your ear. "I was hoping this would be your answer." Your eyes roll up when he places a hot, open-mouth kiss on your neck. It's not sloppy but rather controlled as if hinting that this isn't his first go around.

"Take it out for me sweetheart." He coos after a few more nips at your jaw. The look of bewilderment on your face brings out a cocky smirk. "Please?"

His eyes turn playful as he watches you fumble with his belt. "Sorry," he says. "I usually prefer doing this myself but given the position we're in, it's better you do it." You nod. "I'd also take my time with you if it weren't for the fact that we're in my car right now." Who's fault is that? You bite down your bitterness.

"I understand." You pull at his belt buckle, releasing the leather from its hold. He groans when the tips of your fingers graze his bulge. Once you unzip the front of his pants you reach forward to free his cock.

"Fuck," Yoongi breathes, his hard length pulsating in your hand. You whimper and reflexively squeeze him harder. "Shit, don't."

You feel hot all over, drunk on the pleasure he's getting from this. "But you like this," you say, moving your hand up and down his shaft. Arousal pools in your panties as you watch him struggle to gain his composure. You wouldn't be disappointed if he came in your hand from this, but Yoongi puts a stake in those plans like a tidal wave.

He reaches between his legs, suddenly yanking your hand off of him to place it above your head. "You know what I really like __?" He grabs your other hand to join it with the other. "When people listen to what their told the first time."

He pushes up the skirt of your dress, tugs your panties to the side, and thrusts himself into you in one full motion. The immediate stretch has you gasping for air. "Fuck Yoongi–" Yes, you're wet but you still need time to adjust! "Yoongi please, I need a second."

He doesn't respond with any more than husky groans as he steadies himself above you, hands clamping down on your waist. Yoongi stills himself in you, waiting for your signal to move and when you give it to him he wastes no time setting a vigorous pace.

Every push and pull sets your body on fire as his length beats inside you. You move to claw at his back, desperately needing something to grip, but your hands are thrown back down. "Leave them," he growls.

You end up clutching your wrists as your body bounces up and down the seat of the car. The friction is a little rough due to the leather material but you don't have time to think much about it as long as Yoongi keeps fucking you this good.

"Feels-ah-amazing Yoongi, fuck. How'd you get so good at this?"

"How do you think sweetheart?" He wraps one of your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to sink deeper into your gut. Your hips arch and a few more buttons on Yoongi's dress shirt pop open.

"You have a–chest-chest tattoo?" It's only a blur and you barely get a glimpse when he leans his body forward. But over his heart is black ink in the form of what you can only guess as some kind of wild cat.

"Mhm," he grunts. "Got it when I was 19. One of those impulsive things. Fuck–" he curses feeling you clench around him. "Is this a turn-on for you? You're squeezing me so fucking hard right now."

"Yes. My attraction for you went up about 100%, I can't explain it."

He's amused, shit-eating grin on his far too handsome face. "Well lucky for you, you don't have to explain anything. Open my shirt."

You do as he says and swallow hard seeing the tattoo of a bobcat over his left pec. He can tell you want to ask about it but being that his cock is deep in your heat, he's a little preoccupied. "I'll tell you about it later when we're not you know–fucking like rabbits in the back seat of my Bentley."

You let out a small giggle. It's a wonder no one's caught you yet. Yoongi picks up the pace again, with rough thrusts and beads of sweat around his forehead. "Fuck this pussy is making me so hard. Never been in something so wet and tight in my life." You moan as his cock drags in and out of you, stimulating your g-spot only too perfectly.

"Oh god 'm gonna come Yoongi!" You can't hold back your screams anymore. He's hitting inside you so well, cock throbbing, hair sweaty, muscles tensing, and that sinful chest tattoo teasing in front of your eyes.

"Damn right you are, make this cock yours sweetheart."

Your pussy starts spasming around him. You throw your head back, feeling your tightened core close to unwinding. Yoongi's cock twitches inside you in the seconds following before you both have your release.

Yoongi takes himself out of you, cock dripping with your cum. Your breaths are heavy as you blink up at him from your reclined position. "First time fucking in a car?" he asks, monotone.

"Mhm."

"Did you like it?"

"Mhm."

"Good, I'll give you a few minutes to gather yourself."

Once you both manage to make yourself presentable again, you head back to the reception.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Yeong-Ja hollers at Yoongi, rushing to him through the parking lot. You're startled at her sharp tone but the closer she gets the more your stomach feels unsettled.

She doesn't give you a glance at all, her attention fully on Yoongi. "Min," she starts. Odd of her to be calling him by his last name all the sudden. "We need to leave now."

You dart your eyes at the two of them. "What-what's going on? It hasn't been that long, did something happen?" Yeong-Ja hesitates to answer so you turn to the man next to you. "Yoongi–Oh my god!" You screech when you see a glowing, red dot hovering over his heart.

Yoongi follows your line of sight. "Shit–" He curses under his breath. "Of all fucking times."

Okay, what the fuck is going on?

Yeong-Ja swiftly pulls out a gun from what appears to be a thigh holster. When she does, you spot the same bobcat tattoo on her upper thigh.

Yeong-Ja cocks the gun before aiming it to the far left. She takes the shot, the red dot instantly disappearing from Yoongi's chest.

"You don't know Yoongi very well __." Yeong-Ja lowers her gun ever so slightly. "To the outside, he's Min Yoongi, a reserved and calculative data analyst, best man to your boss Kim Seokjin. But to the inside world, he's Agust D, leader of the most feared mafia gang, Bangtan."

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Yoongi says. "I wanted to spare you from this. But now that you know our dirty little secret we can't possibly let you go."

So she's his right-hand man.

When Yoongi said they were coworkers, this was not what you were expecting.

How the fuck do you get out of this?

Masterlist

A/N: Me through this whole thing...how do I write warnings without giving away the ending? Anyway, tysm for reading and LMK what you think 💞

Note: Pls help me decide if i should turn this into a series of keep it a one shot ➡ vote here ☺

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics with Louis as a service top/soft dom as requested in this ask. All the fics are H/L because I couldn't find any rare pairs for this rec. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

🌸 Home For The Holiday by @larrysmomfics

(M, 86k, movie au) A "The Holiday" inspired AU where Harry meets Louis after agreeing to swap houses with a stranger on the internet for three weeks over the holidays.

🌸 thinking about you (little freak, jezebel) by abaddxns / @causticsunshine

(E, 21k, domestic) Louis comes home to his pretty wife.

🌸 A Simple Twisted Fate by Cyantific / @beyondxmeasure

(E, 18k, famous/not famous) Global rock star Harry Styles has some time to kill between tour dates and stumbles into a Doncaster tattoo shop with a desire for some new ink. He has a few other desires as well, but those he must keep to himself.

🌸 Baby It's Cold Outside by @silverstuff50

(E, 12k, delivery boy) Louis is delivering pizza to Harry, his favourite customer, when he realises the man needs more than comfort food.

🌸 Little Things by BurningFlesh

(E, 11k, canon) Louis is doing interviews for his upcoming tour, and Harry cant handle being away from him. Every picture, every video that surfaced online only served to remind Harry of how much he missed his husband, and how fucking hot he is.

🌸 every day and tomorrow night by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 8k, high school) “You know the rule, Z,” Harry answers, still not pulling his eyes away from this unexpected Adonis. “If I lick it, it’s mine.”

🌸 Your Skin On Mine (I'm Losing Control) by LiveLaughLoveLarry  / @loveislarryislove

(E, 6k, watersports) Harry's birthday is the kinkiest day of his year. He gets to plan whatever adventures he wants, and he knows Louis wants it just as much.

🌸 Open Up Your Honey Pot by homemotif / @polaroidlouis

(E, 4k, omegaverse) louis’ helpless when it comes to his omega. and harry’s kind of in charge.

🌸 Take Care by everysingleday

(M, 4k, uni) Harry’s exhausted and needy and Louis loves him entirely too much to ever say no.

🌸 Tender Hearted by homemotif / @polaroidlouis

(E, 3k, mpreg) It hadn’t taken long then for Harry to clue in the fact that Louis was enthralled with his newly bloomed breasts.

🌸 Soft Dom-onstration by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst

(E, 2k, BDSM club)  “I’m Louis, and this is my sub, Harry. We are here to give an exhibit about soft domming and fucking machines.”

🌸 such a pretty face, on a pretty neck by madomtomlinson

(E, 2k, emotional hurt/comfort) Harry has too many emotions. Louis is there to help him.

🌸 she’s in my dreams and in my bed by girlfriendrry

(NR, 2k, girl direction) harry wakes up from her nap with a bit of a situation, louis helps with that

🌸 Hands On You by Amanda_Styles69

(E, 2k, escort Louis) Harry is getting bored with himself, so he takes up his friend Niall's suggestion and calls a sex service.

🌸 make me dizzy (feel it in my fingertips) by stretchmybones / @lookwhatyoumademelou

(E, 1k, omegaverse) Harry whimpered at the pet names he could never get enough of. “Whatever shall I do with you?” Louis’ voice soft, but teasing.

🌸 you'll like it right there by shiptattou / @wecantalktomorrow

(E, 1k, pwp) The curly-haired man was sobbing into the sheets, hips fidgeting every time Louis’s fingers grew closer to that spot inside of him where he craved it the most – only to slip away, never providing him the satisfaction he needed. 

🌸 give me toothaches just from kissin' me by mercutionotromeo

(E, 1k, pwp) Harry, Louis, and soft, gentle reunion sex.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 1st-7th 2024

First rec of 2024! Happy New Year everyone! I hope it's a good one!

(damn, can you tell I was off from work? this rec is long af 😅 I know it's a bit late but once I got done I just wanted to yeet it off my drafts asap)

Complete

🔥 All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

i'm down on my knees (i wanna take you there) by burnthatbridge/ @burnthatbridge (PWP, Glory Hole | 5K | Explicit): Buck is… a little drunk. So, he honestly thinks, when he first spots it, after stumbling into the stall, clumsily undoing his fly, and taking a very needed leak, that he’s seeing things. It takes him reaching out — with a hand he was already going to wash and probably should doubly do so now — and sticking a finger through it to convince him that the sight hasn’t been fabricated by his inebriated brain. It’s real. It’s a glory hole. His first thought is, huh; his second is, I have got to show Eddie.

making love to the flashes by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (PWP, Hot Firefighter Calendar | 11K | Explicit): When Buck had told them all the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights, Men of the LAFD Wall Calendar had selected him to represent the 118 for the month of July, Eddie hadn’t thought much of it. He’d congratulated him with a clap on the shoulder, laughed along with Hen, Chim, and Bobby’s good-natured teasing, and that had been that. Well, Eddie certainly isn’t laughing now.

with a bird at your door by @sibylsleaves (S6, Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him.

we're gonna need some land between our bodies by @sibylsleaves (Post-Poker Date | 9K | Explicit): or, Buck and Eddie can't fuck yet (four times Buck and Eddie try to define the relationship and the one time they do)

my heart's a secret (tell me you'll keep it) by @sibylsleaves (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Or, Buck tells Chimney a secret. This proves to be a mistake.

the winner takes it all (the loser has to fall) by @burnthatbridge (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck and Lucy compete to see who's the better kisser. Eddie somehow finds himself the judge. (Part 1 of winner takes all)

the winner takes all (of me) by @burnthatbridge (PWP, Buck/Eddie/Lucy | 4K | Explicit): An alternative ending to Buck and Lucy's kissing competition. (Part 2 of winner takes all)

Calling (So You'll Answer) by Princessfbi / @princessfbi (Angst, Hurt Buck | 29K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Buck? Did you drunk dial me?” Eddie did not envy Buck’s headache in the morning. He fought back the urge to smile at the thought of Buck, hungover and pouting with his curls in wild form on his head and his hands twisting and knotting in his favorite hoodie for the comfort the texture brought him. “Can you come take me h-home?” Buck asked, his voice sounding so painfully young. “I don’t …feel good.”

Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink by @princessfbi (Tattoo Artist Eddie AU | 18K | Mature): Tattoo Artist!Eddie Diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo.

i'll lie awake for you by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Married Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Or: Buck and Eddie, newly-weds, spend their well-deserved time alone.

I'd Wait Here Forever by @princessfbi (Angst, Stalker | 21K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Come on. You and me could—” Buck caught Chimney moving to intervene between them but the words were already falling past Buck’s lips before he even realized he was speaking. “I have a boyfriend.” Buck stopped when he registered the words. So, did Chimney before he shot Buck a look over his shoulder like Buck had grown a second head. Probably because, like Buck, Chimney knew that Buck did not have a boyfriend. In fact, he’d been single for a painfully long time since he and Taylor split up. Single and probably very obviously hung up on his best friend who didn’t seem to notice the way Buck would throw himself into oncoming traffic if Eddie asked.

Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone by @princessfbi (Undercover Mission, kidnapping | 22K | Teen | Warning: Violence): Bobby wasn’t comfortable with the LAPD wanting to use Buck as bait. Because that’s exactly what Buck would be: bait. Or: The LAPD want to borrow Buck for an undercover mission to hunt down a serial killer. No one is thrilled.

pink and black and blue by devirnis/ @devirnis (Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Hey!” Buck calls. Eddie spares himself a moment to briefly entertain the idea of fleeing out the back, but knows it would ultimately be pointless. His truck is in the driveway so Buck knows he’s home, and they’re on shift together in two days and there’s no way his bruises will be gone by then, no matter how much he ices them. “In the kitchen,” Eddie answers resignedly. (Bad Things Happen Bingo: Black Eye)

on sleep and unspoken things by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4 | 2K | Not Rated): “You reached out for me. On that day. You tried to touch me.” The words sink into the silence between them. He did, didn't he? Eddie doesn't remember much from the shooting—only pain, and fear, and screaming (his own and so many others), and the vague echo of Buck’s voice—but he remembers that.

in red blue green by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Documentary | 11K | Teen): The commissioner signs off on a workplace documentary set in the 118 to better community attitudes towards the fire department. Unfortunately, whatever is going on between Firefighters Buckley and Diaz is a much more interesting story.

with blood in my nose by @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath) by @burnthatbridge (Post-Lightning | 6K | Explicit): Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) by snarkymuch / @snarkythewoecrow (Post-Grocery Store Argument | 5K | Teen): Buck wanted fajitas, so he went to the store for the sweet onions he needed, but he got the wrong kind because he unexpectedly ran into the team, which had nothing to do with why he was crying in his kitchen--obviously, the shitty onions were to blame. And his day just gets worse from there--as he ends up fileting off a strip of skin, bleeding everywhere, then accidentally hitting his talk-to-text and sending a ramble he never meant anyone to hear to the last person on earth to care: Eddie.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

Paper Rings by buckleyblueyes (orphan_account) (Canon Divergent, S4 | 6K | Teen): Maddie went quiet for a moment, looking at him not with pity, but instead with empathy, and shared sadness. “So. What did you find, then?” “An engagement ring.” The words weighed heavy on his tongue. “He’s going to propose to Ana.” 

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves) / @applesorcery (Getting Together | 13K | Mature): In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order. (Part 1 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

Can't cross the sea just standing there by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)/ @applesorcery (Established Buddie, PWP | 7K | Explicit): In which there are sleepovers and snakes and some jealousy. (But probably not the kind you think.) (Part 2 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)1 @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control from there.

Arm Candy by @princessfbi (Poker Date spec | 8K | General): “Act cool.” Buck shivered at the rumble of Eddie’s voice. “I think I got us in on the game.” Act cool? Act cool! How was Buck was supposed to act cool when he had Eddie dressed like sin parading Buck around like— Buck choked on his tongue as he finally realized what Eddie was doing and why apparently everyone had been so blasé about Buck going undercover after treating him like he was made of glass for weeks. “Am I the arm candy?” Eddie was damningly silent.

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by DaniWib/ @daniwib (Post-S6, Presumed Dead | 44K | Mature): Eddie's world crumbles when Buck’s apartment building becomes engulfed in a cataclysmic seven-alarm fire, resulting in a devastating mass casualty event. Amidst the chaos, Eddie and the rest of the 118 grapple with the heart-wrenching belief that both Buck and Christopher have met a tragic fate within the merciless inferno.

i lit the match, the firemen can do the rest by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S6, PWP | 6K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie is pining and decides to drive over to Buck's. He doesn't expect to walk in on friends-with-benefits Buck and Natalia and he definitely doesn't expect the night to end with him getting everything he's ever wanted with Buck.

The Comfort of Your Hands by Spotsandsocks/ @spotsandsocks (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck accidentally starts running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Eddie lets him and things slowly move towards something special.

unfold me (tell me you love me) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (S4, Love confession | 2K | Teen): Eddie goes on a date and has some realizations about what he really wants

the measuring contest by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (9-1-1 LS S2E3: Hold the Line | 2K | Teen): Hen snorted from her own cot. “Trust me, guys. This isn’t the kind of measuring contest you want to play with Buck because you will lose.” But, comparing scars and exchanging crazy stories when meeting other people in your profession was basically a rite of passage so of course they didn’t take her warning seriously. It became a challenge instead and Eddie settled in for the show.

live while we're young by ashavahishta / @ashavahishta (De-Aging | 5K | General): Or: Some wonky magic leaves the firefam to take care of a tiny Buck for a few days. He's really, unfairly cute.

Radio Silence by madamewriterofwrongs/ @madamewriterofwrongs (Hurt Buck | 9K | Mature): Bobby was going to have a long talk with him about his self-sacrificing habits. For now, he kept his words calm and authoritative; for both their sakes. “None of that, you just hold still. Are you injured?” There was silence. Around him, the paramedics and firefighters of the 118 waited with bated breath. “Pretty bad.” There was little humor in his voice, though they could hear him trying. “My head. And uh, hahaha,” his laughter came as a gust of air. “I’ve been impaled?”

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela/ @elisela (Fluff | 5K | General): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.” Oh. “Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.” Christopher looks at him, then says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

The Badass Background of one Evan Buckley series by Onlymystory / @theallandthemoreofit (Navy SEAL Buck | 5 works | 32K | Complete):

A Six Minute Man (Hostage | 3K | Teen): Or the one where Buck's secret background as a Navy SEAL comes in really handy in a hostage situation. Buck Begins (Backstory | 1K | Mature): When Evan Buckley Spencer is five years old, he wants to be a firefighter. They save people he says. He’s going to be one someday. One of the Good Guys (Revenge | 3K | Mature): Eddie says “You find every single person that hurt our son and you burn them to the ground.” - The Moscow Rules are simple. “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time is enemy action."

With A Little Help From My Friends by @extasiswings (PTA Eddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend

(Not) Under the Mistletoe by Tizniz / @tizniz (Christmas | 2K | Not Rated): Buck is definitely not avoiding Eddie at the Christmas party where mistletoe is everywhere.

Flash Forward by @daniwib (Different First Meeting | 3K | Explicit): The last thing Eddie remembered was pressing the tiny, blood smeared photograph of Christopher to his trembling lips while huddled behind rocks, hiding from the insurgent's attack. The next thing he knew was when he woke up, naked, with a muscular body on top of him. OR: Eddie has a flash forward when he gets shot during his last tour.

WIP

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (established Buddie | 1/3 | 3K | Explicit): "Okay," Buck says finally, muffled. He rubs his face against Eddie's shirt again. "You promise you're not going to dump me if he smashes a salad bowl over this?" "I promise I will not dump you if our kid has a tantrum about us finally getting our act together," Eddie recites solemnly. Buck laughs against his shoulder and finally pulls back. Or: Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together. (sequel to Something Dumb to Do)

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 21. 10. Surprise kisses, in which your lover wasn't prepared but responds immediately

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Re-Read

🔥 the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber (Post S3E15 | 49K | Explicit): When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

🔥 come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 8K | Teen): Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

🔥 Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet (Sentinels AU, Tsunami | 82K | Teen): Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

i (for)get you by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Temporary Amnesia | 6K | General): buck hits his head, forgets the past month and suddenly eddie has a secret girlfriend... right?

you're my whole house by hammersmiths / @henswilsons (Getting Together, PTA Eddie | 12K | Teen): Eddie shrugs. “Christopher mentioned to Daniel that Buck and I are partners. I mean, sure, it’s a little weird that she invited him over as well, but—” “Partners,” Hen interrupts, “like work partners?” Eddie and Buck glance at each other. “Uh, yeah?” Eddie says. “What other type of partner?” Hen stares at them for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. “You dumbasses. She thinks you’re together.” or, Eddie joins the PTA.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 2K | General): Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

Tell me where you wanna go by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S6E11: In A Flash | 4K | Teen): Buck wakes up from his coma and Eddie offers him a passenger seat and a couch and a home.

🔥 Autocowrecked by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Miscommunication | 2K | Teen): Eddie is never, ever using the talk-to-text function on his phone. Ever again.

[grapejuicebluesrry]

28th may fic rec!

here are some fics i really enjoyed this month in no particular order!

Shadows Come With The Pain That You're Running From (Love Was Something You've Never Heard Enough) (51K) by yrsacd

a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.

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Help me (298K) by louxhazxx

Harry is innocent. Louis is not. Louis is a dom and a part of the BDSM community. Harry is not.

When Harry meets Louis and finds out about his lifestyle he wants him to teach him everything. Louis is hesitant at first, but what happens when he eventually agrees and they start a special kind of BDSM relationship without a contract? Will everything go well, or will there be complications?

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a crown of heartache (70K) by WordsInBloom28

The Royal Tail: an alpha den, a strip club, a place where secrets are concealed and consent is medicated. It’s also the place Harry has been trapped for the last three years.

Through luck or fate, Harry finds his way to Louis, a kind alpha who offers safety and comfort. After being freed from the confines of the den, Harry struggles to shake the darkness from his past.

He has a choice to make. Live in a mental prison of his own making or find the strength within himself to face his demons head on with Louis at his side.

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Could Be A Catastrophe (29K) by hazzahtomlinson | @itsnotreal

Louis is one of the two veterinarians in town and somehow gets lucky enough for Harry’s three cats to be his clients.

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giving you all you want and more (giving you every piece of me) (2.5K) by lousdelicatepointofview (starryhaze) | @starryhaze28

“Wanna feel pretty.” Harry whispers, looking up at the ceiling. His face is painted in a soft yellow hue that’s coming from the fairy lights Louis has hung all over his loft. His features look soft, cherubic even.

He’s so young, so young and broken and Louis always patches him up but never fixes him.

“You are my love.” Louis replies his finger tracing over the right laurel tattoo. And Louis knows by the way Harry grimaces that he doesn’t believe him.

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Together unfold (71K) by marcythesassykitten | @marcythesassykitten

the one where Louis is determined to be insecure and stubbornly lonely forever, until Harry comes along to mess up that particular plan.

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Written In The Stars? (50K) by unscattered_horizons

Niall is a writer. Well, technically he's a bar tender who's working towards the day when he pays the bills with his poetry. But for now, he works late and writes in the afternoon before his shifts, and shares a flat with his friend, Shawn. They were strangers before they lived together, but now they're inseparable.

His other friends from uni don't live far, and Louis and H have a kid now. Niall's in no rush to follow in their footsteps. He's happy with his life.

But he has a side job writing horoscopes for an online magazine, because London is expensive and he needs the cash. Niall may not realise it, but some of the horoscopes reveal more about his heart than he's ready to acknowledge. Niall's side gig might prove to be a catalyst for an entirely new life, one he didn't even know he wanted until it was staring right back at him, waiting for him to take a chance and trust his instincts.

OR

What I've been calling the horoscope fic. Inspired by a Tumblr post

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Maybe It's Heaven (81K) by therogueskimo | @bravetemptation

When Harry Styles finds himself forced to go home for Christmas, the last thing he expects is to fall in love.

But then he meets Louis Tomlinson … again.

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May You Enjoy Your New Life (264K) by aimmyarrowshigh

It begins for them all at the bungalow –

'Alright, time to lay out the cards. We’re in this together and hopefully, for the long haul, yeah? So I think – you know, we should just be honest. It’s deal-breakers time. That thing that like, if we’re gonna hate you or something, just tell us all now.'

When One Direction begins, Harry Styles is a sixteen-year-old boy foundering under the pressure of impending fatherhood. His ability to balance the sobering responsibility of caring for his tiny daughter, Millie, and the exhilaration of seeing his own dreams coming to fruition affects not only his future, but those of Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Louis, who never expected fealty to be the key to their success. But Liam is the first to show him how to grow up without growing old, and Zayn is the first to defend from the public what is private and precious. Louis -- Louis is the first for a lot of things; for most of the moments of Millie's life and for the moments of Harry's that matter. And Niall is the first to toast when Millie is born: Go maire sibh bhur saol nua -- 'may you enjoy your new life.'

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Allegiance to your burning heart (82K) by driveinbingo | @joekavaliers

“Have you written any more new songs?”

“I have, yeah. Lately they’re just…coming out of me.”

“Are there any more about me?”

He places a hand on the back of Louis’s neck, carding his fingers through the hair there. It’s getting long again, almost the length it was when Harry left. “They’re all about you.”

*

In the ten years since he last saw his ex-boyfriend, Harry has become very rich and very famous and everything's just great, thank you very much. He definitely doesn't even think about Louis anymore. And he's certainly not going to let a ghost from his past haunt him as he embarks on the biggest tour of his career.

Except Louis always did find a way to crawl underneath his skin, didn't he?

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Secrets in Winter (82K)by softfonds | @softfonds

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

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the very last drops of an ink pen (47K) by staybeautiful | @harruandlou

 just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.

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Give Me Truths (110K) by iwillpaintasongforlou (The Rainbow Cookie series) | @canonlarry

the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

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I Like to Watch (9K) by larry_hiatus | @larry-hiatus

If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.

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If you made it this far, here are some stats and a cupcake!

I read 37 fics and a total of 1,657,404 words (yes thats a lot but i love reading and also a fast reader)

×͜× 🧁🌼

[mvltisstuff]

hi! sorry to bother you! could you make a fic about evan buckley inspired by “i can see you” by taylor swift ? thank you anyway and hope you’re having a great day!

i can see you - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @housewifebuck

a/n: you’re absolutely no bother lovely, i apologize that this is so late, but thank you so much for leaving a request nonetheless <3 i hope you enjoy this, this is my inspiration of the song as well!! also let me apologize in the meantime that this is not proofread :)

each time his hand simply brushed up against hers, a whole new level of delusion entered y/n’s mind. it doesn’t matter if they were grabbing the same cup for coffee, or if they were retrieving something from the engine on a call. his rough, but warm fingers lightly feathering her knuckles, but even the slightest touch was ecstasy.

she tries to keep her composure, her job needing her focused at all times, but he made is so damn hard. every time his bright blue beads crossed paths with her own, it formed sparkles of attraction in y/n’s mind.

y/n’s never been one to be distracted, but buck completely started to own her mind. it was like he put her in his own prison, something she couldn’t escape from.

buck could always sense her eyes burning into him, and he silently loved it. he could feel the flames in her eyes and the admiration she had for him. he would be lying if he doesn’t stare back when she doesn’t notice. bucks always been one for a little game, anyway.

the way she parts her hair for work, and how she walks around the station and saunters around the bar with a drink in her hand. her gentle hands could cure anyone, and buck simply just wanted them on him.

they both can feel the aggressive spark that’s threatening to burst between them, but they’re too scared to do anything about it.

buck could always tell on her face when she got flustered by his presence.

he loves it.

if he had to sneak behind her, he’d place a hand on her lower back and brush his chest over her back, the fabric uniforms rubbing together. he can almost feel the halt in her breath as he passes by.

if she was across the table while they were eating, he’d lean back in his chair, giving her the slyest smirk and running his finger over his forearm tattoo. he wishes he could feel the rush of emotions she got from glancing at him.

he payed attention to the little details, the small things that made her heart race. the rolling up the sleeves, fidgeting with his fingers, whispering small things to her that no one else heard.

he did it until she couldn’t take it anymore, until the night where she would finally pounce on him and claim him as hers, compared to the jail she’s in.

the shift had just ended, and it was long. it wasn’t necessarily all the calls they went on, but it was the looks y/n was getting from buck the whole day. it’s so difficult to be a professional when a man like buck is so close to controlling her every move. nonetheless, she still opted to go to the bar with her team. she stopped by her apartment to change first, then driving back over and entering the bar.

she was wearing a new pair of jeans, one that complimented her figure perfectly and a white tank top, along with an LAFD jacket hanging off her shoulder. buck had a white button up on, with a regular pair of pants that still looked hot as ever to y/n. it was like a breath of fresh air, to see him in different clothes.

she moved up to one of the stool, choosing the one next to buck. she ordered a cocktail first, watching buck sip at his glass.

“you must come here a lot,” buck starts.

“you stalking me, buck?” she jokes, accepting the drink from the bartender. he chuckles quickly, looking y/n up and down her body, taking in every beautiful part of her.

they exchanged quick talk for a lot of the night, ordering each others drinks and almost forgetting that their other friends were there. y/n could hardly focus on anything but bucks bright smile, and the way his tongue swiped along the back of his teeth when she teased him. it made her want to scream.

it made her want to pull her hair out in the best way when his fingers ran through his hair, and he watched her internally fall apart. all because of him.

soon enough, the drunkenness had taken over their minds a bit, and buck noticed the lust in her eyes as she leaned into her hand to gaze at him.

“like what you see?” he asks, not peeling his eyes away from hers.

“why are we still playing this game?” y/n wonders, giving buck a quick moment of confusion before completely understanding. he wants to hear it though, and he’s determined to hear it.

“and what game is that?”

“buck, come on,” she sighs. “don’t be an idiot now.”

“i’m not an idiot, sweetheart,” he smirks. “i just want to hear you admit that you want me.”

she laughs quickly, turning her head away from him and then groaning into the air. “i can’t possible boost your ego any more.”

“tell me, y/n,” he scoots himself closer, one of her thighs in between his as he inches himself toward her. before he can think to move again, she grabs his bicep, pulling him toward the back of the bar.

once they’re in the single bathroom, she clicks the lock behind her and shoves him against the door. when he turns back to look in her eyes, her heels are off the ground and her hands are on the side of his face.

her soft, sweet-tasting lips touch bucks for the first time, taking in the taste of her lip gloss and the smell of the liquor on her tongue. he moves his own hands down to her sides, pressing his fingers into her skin. she groans a bit into his touch, but she only craves for more connection from him.

she only pulls away for a quick breath, only to rush back for more and feel his arms wrapped around her again. the light chattering of the people in the bar became inaudible, the only two people in the world at that moment were buck and y/n. despite their tipsy selves, the kiss between them blurred anything in their mind. they both only wanted more, never wanting to leave a moment like this behind.

“does that tell you what you want to hear so bad?”

[marsalaqueen]

Ok, I have a sad theory about Alex Turner's relationships with his women and his music, that is, I hope, not 100% true. And I do want to share it with you!

The concept is that Alex takes only inspiration from his girlfriends for the new albums, write lyrics about them, but not really love them. And the only person whom he is in love with is Miles Kane.

Before we start I'd like to say that I don't wanna blame or offend anyone. I personally do not know any of the people described below and I can be wrong about them. I respect everything they do, and in fact I sympathize with absolutely every character. All the thoughts described below came to my mind only during a small investigation of some Alex's texts, which hooked me with their references even though sometimes they are not obvious.

Sooo, let's begin with Johanna Bennett. They were dating in 2005-2007, Alex was 19, for sure just a kid. The development of Arctic Monkeys has just begun, first album, first fame and fans confession. In fact, there is little information about them on the Internet, and the only thing I found was what he recorded with her "Fluorescent Adolescent". I can't say anything about specifically her influence on the first albums, because the press did not really catch their relationship. Then let's slowly move on to the favorite of most fans Alexa Chung.

Alexa was a real match. Their names, appearance and magnetic charisma spoke for themselves. They were dating from 2007 to 2011, Humbug and Suck It and See were released in this period (Favorite Worst Nightmare was recorded before her). And if in Humbug I can’t clearly trace any references (except perhaps Crying Lightning), then SIAS is one continuous declaration of love to Alexa. It has a lot more melancholic, romantic, incredibly touching songs - «She’s Thunderstorms», «Reckless Serenade», «Piledriver Waltz», «Love Is a Laserquest», «Suck It and See» and others. There is no doubt that the main source of inspiration was Alexa. And when Alex performed live She’s Thunderstorms after their split, the bitter pain was felt throughout the song. I mean, read some lyrics from SIAS:

Your love is like a studded leather headlock

Your kiss it could put creases in the rain

You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock

And those other girls are just postmix lemonade;

The type of kisses where teeth collide

When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun gun lullaby

Those twinkling vixens with the shining spiral eyes

Their hypnosis goes unnoticed when she's walking by

And I do believe that Chung was his last true love. Some sort of a special chemistry could be seen between them, a strong real feeling. Alexa was loving, easy and sincere, just like SIAS.

But after only a month in 2011 he started dating Arielle Vandenberg, a Hollywood actress. With her they had their best (commercially and judging by the love of the audience) album AM. IT was cheeky, luxurious, sexy - posh as an American dream, whose incarnation can be called Arielle. She was in R U Mine? and One For The Road clips (maybe even in some more), she is definitely his Arabella starting at least from the leopard coat that she often wore. In a word, she fit well into the concept of AM. They also looked cute with him, drinking together in bars and wearing damn cool Halloween costumes. And, more importantly, she got along with the rest of the members, as did Alexa, by the way!

Several months passes and Alex is in a relationships again - this time with a model Taylor Bagley, the most chaotic and crazy one (in a good way). After stunning success of AM Monkeys are taking a hiatus, and Alex starts having fun with Miles. We come to the intriguing part. During their relationship with Taylor, they are recording a new album with TLSP, which, in addition to the sound of vintage soul with strings, is also very romantic and poignant. What they did with Miles on stage is another story, but we'll get to that later. So, he and Taylor got paired tattoos with their names, he literally wrote at least "Sweet Dreams, TN" about her (Although being born in Oklahoma, she states in interviews that she considers herself a Nashville, Tennessee, native and she has a piercing in her nose), by the way, she also made a tattoo with the name of this song. Together with Miles they hang out at her house with a pool and dog; she is in "Bad Habits" clip, and in general they are real safely threesome. They are crazy, drunk and happily doing some odd things, like the 2nd TLSP album.

And finally we are coming to the most provocative part. Louise Verneuil. I will not say whether he cheated on Bagley with her or not, but the time between the breakup and the new relationship was negligible. Rumors say that Louise was almost in his dressing room backstage while he was still in a relationship with Taylor. So, so far, their relationship with the French singer is the longest he's ever had (2018-till now). Visually, I am insanely impressed with how they look together, they complement each other incredibly, if only because Louise is finally lower than him ahahaha. She is petite and flirtatious, infused with the spirit of the 70s and Jane Birkin. Look at her clips (Love Corail, Desert and etc.), and then at the Car....

Yes, he produced some videos for her, so maybe they are similar. But his style of Alain Delon, the image of the horny teacher of geography from the 70s, scarves at concerts and so on - all this gives off the atmosphere of Louise. For example, a There'd Better Be a Mirrorball clip, in which, by the way, there is Louise as well.

The only thing that confuses everyone is her bad relationship with fans (I saw a screenshot of the correspondence somewhere, where she rudely asked the girl to remove the photo with Alex from her stories), scandals with likes on posts about rape, photos of Alex once in a while a year, and the absence of Alex's sincere smile next to her, let's be honest. And one important notice - he stopped celebrating Halloween with Louise, which he apparently loved very much, as he always carefully approached the choice of costume (my favorite is Florence and the Machine with Arielle, it's fantastic)

Let's sum up a little. 1) Since 2005 Alex cannot be without a relationship for more than 4-5 months, which is not normal obviously. He seems to be afraid of being alone, thinking that he will not find inspiration for a new album, or, in principle, he has a fear of loneliness. 2) Vibes of all his albums are a reflection of his girls. Next to them he changes also. 3) Remember the evolution of his images, in addition to age and interests, the style of girls also influences him. With Alexa, it’s simple T-shirts and old jeans, while she is in plain dresses and shorts with knee socks; with Arielle he is in tight pants and leather jackets, and she is in extravagant coats and heels; with Taylor he is in colorful suits and flared pants, and she is in very short tops with pink hair; with Louise he is in corduroy jackets and white shirts, whilst she in vintage jeans and flowing blouses - boom, all matches! 4) Obviously he has a type of girls with a square face, blond hair and bangs. The only one who deviated much from this type was Taylor. 5) I have not seen him hugging, laughing and kissing someone the way Miles Kane does, next to whom he literally glows, not afraid to show himself, not afraid to be real, foolish, but really himself.

Perhaps happiness loves silence and Alex, as a not very public person, keeps all the feelings between him and his woman, but he is too open next to Miles, not afraid to show his feelings in public, which raises some doubts.

I would like to write a separate final post about Al and Miles, if it is necessary at all. Please let me know if any of this resonated with you, and if I can flesh out any of these points to you in more detail, I will do so with pleasure!

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

We’re supposed to leave by half-past eight

★ Chapter 14 of 15, 6455 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: bit of angst and grief

<< 13

13 February, 2020

“I’m going to do a bit of a clothing shop. For the new job, Lolo—I wanted some fancier clothes. Do you need anything before I come home? Might be a couple of hours or so. Okay. Yeah, but later. M’kay. See you later. Love you. Bye.”

Este hung up her phone, which once had José on the other end, to continue sorting through the racks of business casual pieces at H&M. The style bored her slightly, so the choices she kept tucked under her arm were littered with fun textures and colours, while still upholding the factors that made attire professional. She felt a bit of pressure to dress to impress for her upcoming first day at work.

After spending far too long in a fitting room, debating on whether she should purchase a pair of trousers in green or in blue (she eventually chose green), Este wandered the rest of the store leisurely. Her destination was the section filled with merchandise plastered in ripped off TV and film logos, and oddly chosen inspirational quotes. It would be a nice and lighthearted break from panicking about whether or not her personal style even existed.

She giggled to herself, holding up a t-shirt that had Mickey Mouse holding a pineapple printed onto the front. “Who would buy this?” muttered Este, before turning to a new rack. When her eyes caught the clothes on display, her breath hitched for a second.

Their design, clearly attempting to convince Chanel fans to consider buying a shirt with their rectangular branding, looked awfully like a logo that Este knew all too well.

Her mind flashed back to the second night she stayed round Matty’s place, snooping through his shirt collection to steal another one to lazily throw on and finding handfuls with boxes printed on the front. She made fun of him for owning so much of his own merch. ‘You know me, I’m my own biggest fan,’ Este remembered him boasting, before shutting him down and insisting that she held the title instead.

She thought of dancing to Give Yourself A Try with Cate in their flat, and hearing the box tattoo line—that moment being so early on that she didn’t understand the reference. She thought of the rectangle that lit up their stage as the band performed in front of it, and being in the crowd. Of how frequently she saw fans with the shape inked into their skin, helping her realise that the lyric in the song wasn’t an exaggeration.

The shape, yet simple, elicited a feeling Este didn’t know how to describe, and she found it difficult to peel her eyes away from the nine-pound-fifty shirt draped over a hanger before her.

Another shopper, who was actually shopping in Este’s vicinity unironically, snapped her out of the memory induced trance she’d been stuck in, allowing her to finally head up to the till and pay. She was excited to style her new green trousers and the other new additions to her wardrobe. But, it was only the beginning of her shopping spree.

By late morning, she had stopped at every store on her list. A couple of bags sat firmly on Este’s shoulder and clutched in one of her hands; but she hadn’t gone too crazy, since she had taken the tube and couldn’t be bothered to carry everything back on her own. She made a mental note to herself to take her car more often.

Grimey tiled stairs led her feet to the underground where she swiped her Oyster card and slipped on her headphones to wait for her train. The box sighting in the H&M made Matty linger in her mind, which wasn’t necessarily unusual, as Este found herself thinking about him often lately.

Though she was trying to create a new ‘normal’ for herself—to fill the gap in her life that Florencia’s passing left—she hadn’t felt as beautiful as she once did when Matty’s eyes were on her. Not even just physically, since he was never afraid to express how much he admired Este’s mind; its ins and outs, the things she feared and things she loved. She craved the way he understood her.

So, it freaked her out when she stepped off the platform and onto the train, riding it peacefully into the direction of her granddad’s house and nearly reaching her destination—just to catch Matty’s eye across the carriage. Speak of the devil.

He had already been looking at her. As if he was waiting, begging, for Este to notice his stare.

It was a relief to see her in the flesh after such a long time full of uncertainty. Her hair was longer. I guess that’s what hair does after a while, Matty figured. The black headphones that sat over her ears were unfamiliar. Este used to refuse to leave her flat without her beloved AirPods that frequently sat in her ears, so he assumed they were new.

But her eyes were still the same. Matty chased their contact until they met his own. A pang of bittersweet sadness hit his chest when she looked back at him; and he watched the neutral expression on her face turn slightly upwards into a smile. He had to blink a couple of times to survive the haze she’d locked him in, and attempted to smile back. The muscles in his face seemed to be just as surprised to see her as he was, so frankly, Matty had no idea what they were doing, or if they even formed a smile. He was too busy trying not to feel broken when she ceased their mutual gaze and exited through the opening train doors. It was her stop. And that was it.

It took everything in him to stay seated. What he really wanted to do was to run after her, shout her name proudly at the top of his lungs until she turned around. He wanted to see her smile with her teeth. Be ecstatic to see him, and pull him in for an embrace. But that wasn’t reality.

Este seemed peaceful. Healthy. Healing, hopefully. The shopping she carried made Matty assume she was having a day to herself, so he didn’t want to burden her. Instead, he sat and convinced himself that it was the smart choice to make.

-

There were a plethora of things he could be working on, now sitting at home where he’d be for the next couple of nights before their Nottingham show on the 15th—but with the NME Awards being held the previous night, he was still antsy with adrenaline from the successful ceremony. And also fairly drained from the theatrics of it all.

So, wanting to take advantage of his free day, Matty headed back out instead of staying in the house as planned. He drove over to a park (always one quite far, for the sake of his privacy), bringing along a notebook and pen in case any inspiration peeked through, as well as a book to pass the time as he sat on a bench and took in the cold air. It was a bit too chilly for that many people to be out, so it was lovely and quiet.

After setting up a queue of music on Spotify, his eyes got distracted by the other social media apps that tempted them. Clicking on Instagram, Matty impulsively searched Este’s name into the explore page—something he hadn’t done in a while—and similarly to the way he tried to find her after meeting her for the very first time. He needed to get it out of his system, and curiosity always seemed to win over logic, with him.

But there wasn’t much to look at. Her account had been the same for the past couple of months; no new posts or silly random things uploaded temporarily to her story.

Este didn’t spend much time scrolling on her phone anymore, and surely didn’t have many glamorous things to display for her followers at the moment. She took note of her declining screen time and assumed it was connected to how the feeling of losing someone so special inspired her to live life in the moment; but in reality, it just sort of bummed her out to see the eventful lives of the accounts she followed. It made Este feel like she was the only person struggling, though she knew that wasn’t true.

But when she arrived home, setting the bags full of clothes onto her unmade bed, her first instinct was to open her device.

She wanted to text Matty.

Minutes went by as Este word-vomited into her Notes app, finally letting herself open up. Seeing him on the tube only made her miss him more; and feel even more guilty for leaving him in the dark. A explanation felt integral for her sanity. She silently thanked the universe for deciding to make them take the same train at a moment that she truly felt ready to face him. A moment where she was thinking clearly (though there was still enough fog in her brain to send him eleven messages in a row without caring that much).

Matty curled the sleeves of his coat over his hands in attempts to keep them warm. The air was cooler than he expected it to be. His fingertips remained frigid as they turned the pages of his book and he bounced his leg up and down out of habit. Flipping to a new chapter, the song playing switched over timely.

With his queue now over, a shuffled playlist began playing, and the new track wasn’t one he was up for hearing. So, he reached for the phone in his pocket to skip it, and instead caught the notifications from Este streaming through. Each buzz felt like a brick dropped on a car windshield, the sheer weight of them sending him waves of unexpected shock.

E ★

Thu, 13 Feb at 12:49 PM

Hi. That was me on the tube. At least I think you spotted me, unless you look at everyone on the tube that way too lol

I’m sorry that I disappeared and ruined this. But so much has changed and I think i’m getting better.

After the funeral I never went back to Manchester. I left Greenhouse, and Georgia took my spot in the flat (about time). It was really scary and for a while I wasn’t really living with any purpose, but I think moving was for the best. My granddad needed me. I didn’t work at all for a bit but as u can probably imagine it drove me insane. Like actually it was so bad that I’m now an absolute machine at Scrabble. I’ll have to challenge u to a match one day. Could probably kick ur arse tbh

Those times were probably some of my lowest, right after my nan passed, cooped up in Islington with my granddad. But once time did a little healing I eventually had this intense want - or more like need - to do something bigger. To be something bigger. For Lola.

So I reconnected with a few of my old colleagues to try and get back into the journalism industry. Did a lot of networking with the right people and hearing about the work they did. It reminded me of what I used to be so passionate about and helped distract me from how bad my brain was. Sort of think that what fuelled me to work so hard was just pure mania lol yikes

But last week I had an interview for a position with The Guardian. And this morning I accepted. It’s something small for now but there’s so much opportunity for me to work my way up and getting there has been so fulfilling. It’s a new and exciting chapter of my life.

I’m not telling you this to say ‘look at me now!’ or for your pity, but to thank you for encouraging me to think about pursuing journalism. I know you didn’t say much but it was the first time I even considered it was possible to go back.

I had been living the same days over and over again for years, at Greenhouse, and even though I was so happy there, you were the thing that threw me for a loop. I’d never met someone so addicted to beautiful things, so propelled by consuming life and making art with it. You made me think of myself as something bigger than what I already was. Thank you for that. And again, I am so so sorry that I let it fall apart.

Think this might be the most text messages anyone has ever sent to one person all at once. Lol soz. Just needed to get that out after seeing your face. I miss you.

I’m not expecting anything back, but I’ll be here. A text away.

I promise this time x

It took a while for him to muster up the courage to actually read them. But the lengthy paragraphs Matty was faced with were eventually whispered through his lips to himself. He had to stop his music completely to be able to hear himself think.

The words almost made him irrationally angry. Knowing that Este had clearly chosen to stop contacting him not due to his wrongdoings—but because of life taking a turn for the worst—made him understand in the first place, even without an explanation. Matty had accepted that. But what stirred his anger was that it didn’t matter. Even if there was no good reason, or if Florencia was still alive. His heart would always understand—and he couldn’t imagine a world where he’d choose to deny himself a place in Este’s life. It was frustrating, how strong his feelings were, and looking back, Matty couldn’t believe he’d spent so much time without her there.

There was no use in trying to type something back. His thumbs drew little circles in the air as they hovered above the keyboard on his screen, waiting for his brain to tell them what letters to click. But nothing was coming through. So, without thinking, he called.

“Hello?” It only rang once before she picked up.

“Hi,” Matty started nervously, “It’s me.”

She smiled at the sound of his voice, thinking it may sound a bit unfamiliar after the time that had gone by. It didn’t. “Yeah, it is you.”

“I read your texts.”

“Thank you,” Should I be thanking him for reading them? This sounds like I sent him fan mail, Este thought, “I’m glad you did,”

Matty thought about how she mentioned her and José living in Islington, which was near where he sat shivering in his too-thin coat. “Are you busy now? I tried to type out a response but it doesn’t feel like enough,”

“No, I’m not busy at all, actually.” She revealed, hoping he’d suggest they meet up, but also completely unsure if he was in town or not.

“You said you’re in Islington, right? Because I’m in Gillespie Park now. I could come to you, or you could come by if you know where that is. There’s a spot beside me on the bench I’m sitting on. It’s all yours, if you’re up for it.”

Este grinned in relief after learning that he was within reach. Physically and mentally. “I’ll take it. I can be there in 30?”

“I’ll drop a pin so you can find me.”

“See you,”

“See you.”

She had thrown out the thirty minute timeline to keep her cool and sound casual despite having no idea where Gillespie Park was.

So, since she learned through a quick Google search that it was only a 10 minute car journey from her house, Este paced round the kitchen to be able to arrive when she promised Matty she would. And attempt to figure out what to say to him once she did.

Sitting in his recliner, her granddad noticed the nervous circles she walked in and turned to eye her. “You’re stressing me out, Anak. What are you pacing for?” he asked.

“Just wasting time before I have to leave. I’m meeting someone I haven’t spoken to in while, so I’m a bit antsy. Can you tell? Do I seem antsy?” Este spoke with speed.

“Who are you meeting? Because yes, you do seem very antsy.”

She winced at his honesty and tried to compose herself, shaking her hands out and taking a deep breath. “Better?” She forced her legs to stop, and sarcastically posed with her arms crossed formally. José chuckled at her antics and nodded in agreement. “I’m seeing Matty,” Este finished.

“You don’t speak to Matty anymore?” A confused look displayed across his face. “He was a nice boy, you know. I was thinking of trying to scare him off when I met him but I liked him too much to go through with it,” he admitted.

“I don’t really have the time to explain, Lolo,” Este diverted, tapping on her phone to see the time. She should be leaving by now. “But I know. I liked him too.”

-

Matty watched her approach from afar, with her eyes switching between studying her phone at the location that he’d sent her, and scanning the dreary park to find him. She was still a ways away, so he figured Este didn’t recognise him from a long distance and decided to stand up and wave her down.

Setting his book down, he got up and raised his right arm to catch her attention. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she gave a small wave back. A nervous smile sat on his face as she walked over with a similar one on hers.

Still standing, Matty shoved his hands in his pockets. He didn’t know what to do with them.

“Can I hug you?” Este quietly asked. She didn’t bother to start with a ‘hello’.

He simply obliged by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. They fit around Este’s torso just the same, and Matty could almost feel his cells throbbing for her when her hand migrated up to cradle the back of his head, fingers buried in his hair. Both of their eyes fluttered shut.

There must be a word to describe just how badly they had missed each other. If there wasn’t, then they’d have to somehow bottle up that moment, standing and holding each other in the middle of the park, and put that into the dictionary instead. ‘I miss you’ just wasn’t enough, thought Este.

“I’m so sorry about your nan,” whispered Matty, feeling the need to reiterate his condolences even months later. He rubbed his hand up and down her back.

She squeezed him tighter before they let go and sat down side by side. “Thank you,” Her hands wedged between her crossed legs to stay warm. “She really did love you, you know. Like, truly. You didn’t even have to earn it, she just immediately did.”

They shared a smile, and Matty chuckled in response. “I am sad I didn’t get the chance to spend more time with her,” he said with a sadness in his voice. “She had always been so wonderful to me.”

Este attempted to control her blowing hair by constantly tucking it away as things faded to silence. They both snuck glances at each other.

“God, I haven’t even asked you how you are.” She scolded herself.

He internally cringed at their small talk. It was bizarre that they didn’t know each other that well anymore. That he had to catch her up on his life.

“The usual. Touring and finishing up the album. It’s been kind of stressful, to be honest. Lots of hoops we’ve had to jump through to get it finished. Already have had to push back the release date once, so that just about tells you how it’s going,” Matty looked over at her to see her watching him as he talked.

She nodded, gently smiling. “I can’t wait to hear it,” Este said, “and I love hearing about your music. But I asked how you are. I want to know how Matty is.”

He met the brown in her eyes with his own. It was like she wanted to see through him. At one point Este felt like she could, but she’d been out of practice for a bit. And Matty wanted to let her.

“I’ve been okay. As good as I can be. I just think I’ve been exhausted for the past, like, 10 months straight. The holidays helped, though. Seeing my family always feels good. Seeing you now feels good too,” explained Matty, truthfully. “I’ve missed you. A lot.”

Her hand inched over, finally gaining the confidence to hold his. They felt rough and weathered, but in the best way. Matty closed his over her soft ones and ran his thumb over the back. She sighed in relief.

“I honestly don’t know how to describe how terrible I feel for shutting you out the way I did. You deserved so much better than that,” Este felt herself try and swallow the lump in her throat. Saying everything to Matty’s face made it feel so real, because it was; she’d hurt him. “When everything was so fresh in the fall, I went quiet on everyone. And I’m thankful that you let me have my space. But once things got a bit better, I couldn’t bring myself to reach out. I was so scared you’d hate me. And that it was too late,”

Matty could feel the guilt laced in her words and saw the corner of her eyes grow damp. “That’s what scares me, E. I could never hate you.”

“Really?”

He nodded and let go of her hand to use his and settle her still unruly hair. A loose piece was guided behind her ear.

“I think that’s why I didn’t keep trying to get answers out of you, too. I knew in the back of my mind that there would be a time that you’d feel ready—and that no matter how far away that time was, I’d be there.” His heartbeat increased when what he said brought a smile out of Este. A real one. Her dimple started back at him. “And being scared is overrated, anyway. I was a dickhead and too scared to let you call me your boyfriend last summer. Even though that’s what I wanted.”

“Yeah, you were.” She chuckled, and swiped any sadness from her eye quickly. “Fuck being scared.”

They agreed with laughter. “That’s what I should apologise for, by the way. It was pointless—me trying to keep us from moving forward, just because I’d let things go to shit in the past. It was unfair to both of us. I was just being a pussy.” Matty admitted.

She waved him off, the silly disagreement not meaning much to her now.

“It’s crazy that at this point, that was almost seven months ago now. I think I blocked all of August to December out of my memory, so it doesn’t seem like that much time has passed at all,” recalled Este, turning to Matty and pulling her legs up onto the bench to sit crisscross.

He agreed silently, shaking his head in disbelief at how far they had come. “Sometime throughout those months you’ve managed to score a job with The Guardian though, so that’s a win.”

“I did,” she said, suddenly shy by his flattery.

“That’s more than just a win, to be fair. It’s huge,” continued Matty, “I can’t believe you’re actually a Londoner now. Like, for real. With a fancy writing job. Well I can easily believe the latter, but Este leaving Manchester? I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Hey, I haven’t even started that job yet. And it is not at all fancy—at least not yet. So don’t get too excited,” Este defended, to stay humble.

“Still, congratulations. I know you’ll be amazing. When you said that I helped make you see yourself as something bigger than what you already are, it felt like a punch in the gut. In a good way. If that was the only thing you ever took away from what we had then I’d be happy,” he tried to explain, using his fist against his stomach to demonstrate just how much he meant it, and how grateful he was for Este’s words. He instantly regretted speaking in the past tense as he said ‘from what we had’, but had faith that she’d get what he meant.

“I mean, it’s true. It really was you. I think my nan secretly wanted me to go back and use my degree, too. She always thought the highest of me—higher than anyone else—like when I showed the tiniest interest in starting violin lessons as a kid and she was suddenly telling her friends I’d be a violinist one day. Or when I had only been out of uni for a couple of days and she asked me why she hadn’t seen me reporting on the news yet. She’d seen me as being too big for the bookstore. But she also knew how much I loved it, so she never complained,”

Este found herself getting emotional again, thinking about Florencia, and he noticed. Out of instinct, Matty reached out to her ankle that sat on the seat next to him. The warmth of his hand instantly comforted her, and the small circles he drew took her back to the handful of moments they lay tangled together.

“Great minds,” joked Matty.

“Yeah. Too bad it only took her dying, me quitting my job, cutting everyone off, moving across the country—and going slightly manic—to finally realise.” She sustained the lighthearted tone he initiated.

“You know,” Matty turned to bring his feet onto the wooden seat, hugging his knees to his chin comfortably. “I read this book a couple months ago—“ He hesitated after seeing Este’s eyes roll in annoyance, making fun of his obsession with referencing. “Hey!”

Este giggled. “Go on, say the David Foster-Wallace quote you were planning on saying, or whatever,” Amusement was plastered on her face.

“Fuck you!” He threw his head back as he laughed.

She had missed hearing that sound.

“I was just about to say that I just read this book. Pure Colour. It was pretty crazy to follow, and almost a bit Freudian at times which was gross, but the author said this thing about how the most important thing being the process of finding the right distance from everything in life. That sometimes a person is meant to move forward in the world with the thing they love at a distance. Like, you can’t see anything from too close—or too far. So maybe that’s all it really took. Just the right distance.”

This was another moment Este felt like wanted to tip over his head in hopes that some of his brain would spill out. To be able to understand what went on in there.

“That’s a beautiful way to put it,” she gushed, “Thank you, for thinking the way you think. I’ll never grow tired of hearing you talk.”

He beamed at her, studying her face like it was his own reflection. He liked the way her septum piercing (that was now mostly healed) sat slightly crooked, the bead on her right hovering higher than the left.

“You say that now,” warned Matty, implying that she’d think otherwise eventually.

A gust of wind made his journal flop onto the pavement that made up the pathway they sat on, forcing him to bend over to pick it up. Este nestled deeper into her denim jacket.

He could see her begin to shiver, so Matty asked, “Do you have anywhere to be today? Would you want to maybe come over to mine? To be a bit warmer. We can order food, or something,”

Este thought to herself for a second, pretending to have to weigh out a decision, but—without question—she agreed, smiling and nodding her head. “I’d like that.”

-

She followed behind Matty in her car through the 25 minute drive back to his house. Although Este’s was much closer, they’d decided against disturbing her granddad’s peace.

He put on an Etta James record once they had settled in. The two of them got comfortable, sitting side by side on his sofa, as Este took in the place that had now grown unfamiliar to her. She noticed a couple of different pieces of furniture, and random new additions of decor and literature that sat messily around. How did he manage to prolong so much character in his belongings when he was barely home? wondered Este.

Matty was right about it being warmer, both literally and in terms of the energy between them. His house’s lighting that glowed orange like marmalade was a nice contrast to the grey UK sky they’d previously been sitting under. And now that they had moved past any nerves or fear, it was like no time had gone by in silence.

He rambled on about how crazy the final leg of his American tour was. Let her listen to what she wanted to hear from Notes. Este loved it. “It’s so British,” she complimented. He thanked her.

Este learned that he had a great Christmas, and a new obsession with the VR he had gotten as a gift from the guys. They were doing well, too, and had a couple of London shows coming up at the end of the month. Matty invited her out to whichever night she could make it to, and Este promised to come out to at least one of them.

Then she talked his ear off, through her highs and lows of the latter end of 2019. How they were mostly lows. She told him about her new job, what she’d be doing there, and her Scrabble high score. She blushed when Matty expressed how proud of her he was (about the job, not the vocabulary game). She bragged about now having read four Joan Didion novels since they last spoke, and that her favourite was Play It As It Lays.

“Of course your favourite is one of like, five, fiction books she’s ever written. You really have not changed all that much,” complained Matty.

They grew hungry and ordered a Chinese takeaway to eat messily with chopsticks, chewing over the styrofoam containers—still sat on the sofa—and pairing it with the only bottle of red Matty had left in his frequently uninhabited house. The meal was only a brief intermission, as both of their voices continued exercising to the point of them growing tired. There was never enough to say to each other.

When the sun had set quite some time ago, Matty’s concrete home made them feel small, but small together. Este couldn’t avoid the weight of her eyes increasing after the pure catharsis of their conversation and early morning errands she had run. So, she fell asleep. On Matty’s shoulder. He noticed how long the pauses between his words and hers started to grow and wasn’t surprised when her head held lower and lower until she passed out against him. And he let her. Matty knew that Este would have done the same for him.

While she slept, he took the opportunity to get their mess tidied up. He threw away the empty food containers and took the glasses that once had wine in them over to the kitchen. He dampened a flannel and used it to get any gunk off of the coffee table, moving every book and vase sitting on it out of the way to make sure he didn’t miss anything. After a couple of minutes, Matty realised how uncomfortable she looked, so he grabbed a cushion to stick under Este’s cheek and draped a light throw over her body. Her chest rose up and down rhythmically.

But, Matty was unsure of what she had planned the next day. Whether it would be smart for Este to stay overnight at his, or if she would wake up in a panic having missed something important. Not wanting to risk it, he cut her slumber to a short forty-five minutes.

He studied how gently her eyelids were shut. The thick black eyelashes that grew from them rested with barely any weight against her cheek. There was contentment written all over her face—from what Matty could read, at least. He smiled at how beautiful she was. How beautiful she had always been.

His body squatted in front of the sofa, now eye level with her quiet snores, and his hand apprehensively shook her shoulder.

“E,” Matty whispered, “Wake up, Este.”

The sound of his voice eventually helped her slip back into consciousness, though her short sleep was inconsistent anyway. Este had woken up periodically, and there were a couple of times she was inclined to peek at her surroundings. She had briefly caught Matty sweetly humming to himself as he cleaned up their dinner. It was difficult to hold in her laugh and resist a smile, but her tiredness took over quickly and she wasn’t ever looking or listening for long.

She yawned before peeling her eyes open. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for waking you—I was just worried that you wouldn’t want to crash here. That you had somewhere to be tomorrow, or something.” Matty explained, chuckling at the sight of Este sleepily rubbing her eyes.

“Why would I not want to crash at your very cosy and welcoming concrete cube of a home?” she joked.

His jaw dropped at her dig at him. “You love it. Don’t lie now,”

“I do. You’re right.” confessed Este. Matty still sat low to the ground, so his chin found itself sat against the edge of the sofa cushion that she laid on. Despite talking comfortably for the previous hours, it was the closest they had come to each other all day. “Thank you for letting me explain myself today. I was expecting you to be holding a grudge, or something, but I’m glad you listened. And that you have it in your heart to forgive me,”

“You’re my Este. Of course I’d listen,” he responded matter-of-factly.

My Este, she repeated in her head, trying to push down the butterflies that she could feel overflowing from her chest.

Matty reached out with his finger to poke her in the cheek, happy to see a smile on her face. She jokingly smiled as wide as she could in response, showing all of her teeth, earning one just as big back from him. With his hand still reached out and next to her face, Este nuzzled her cheek into it, fairly intimately, forcing it to open and cradle her face.

It made them both freeze and their once goofy grins both faltered to a look of intrigue. The space between them was already small, but they wanted it even smaller.

She watched his eyes divert down towards her lips and wondered what he was waiting for. I want this, Este decided. We both want this.

Her arm extended to pull him in by the back of his neck, needing his mouth against hers like a desert needed water.

Their lips moved together in unison, both of them smiling in the process. It felt surreal for the months of misconnection to suddenly mean nothing—all that mattered was that now, they were there. A quiet hum of satisfaction could be heard.

Eventually, they broke apart to take a breath. Este took the pause as an opportunity to comb her fingers through the hair that sat messily atop his forehead, bringing her hand back around to sit on his jaw comfortably.

And in that moment, it was only them two. My Este, Matty thought again. It was his turn to repeat it to himself, in his head, realising how true it really was. He hoped he was her Matty.

——— 21 February, 2020

“This one’s new as well,” Matty said as he began introducing the next song, hearing the packed O2 scream back at him. “It’s been a favourite of mine lately. Dance and jump around with who you love, if they’re here with you tonight.”

The jangly guitar erupted even more praise from the crowd as its recognisable riff blew through the arena. From the side of the stage, Este watched what she could see of the audience and saw people jumping up and down in pure joy. The 1975’s energy was unmatched, as it always had been.

She bopped back and forth to the catchy and poppy anthem and her eyes lit up with the reflections from the screens that charged the atmosphere with bright lights. Her look of pure awe emitted as she watched Matty strum away at his guitar. A giggle left her lips when she heard him sing the line, “I’m sorry that I’m kind of queer, it’s not as weird as it appears. It’s ‘cause my body doesn’t stop me,” as the second verse passed.

The song felt both heartfelt and lighthearted at the same time. Especially when the final chorus rang on, its repetition hitting hard and meaningfully.

“I’ve been in love with her for ages, and ages, and ages, yeah,” He sang, eyes flickering across the sea of faces that shouted the words back to him. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, for ages, and ages,” The more he thought about the lyrics, the more he felt the need to do what did next, as the end of the performance neared.

Matty fully turned his body to where Este stood, surrounded by gear and wires and techies. His right hand came to a halt, and instead of continuing to play the chords, he straightened out his arm and pointed right at her. Este could feel his eye contact burning into her despite the flashing screens.

“I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

15 >>

[iluffyouxo]

hꪮᥒꫀᥡ ᥣꫀꪑꪮᥒ ᖯᥣᥲᥴk tꫀᥲ || jꫀꪮᥒ jᥙᥒgkꪮꪮk

방탄소년단 — jeon jungkook x black, female oc

It was a bright morning, almost nippy when the wind blew at a certain pace. The pavement glistened like a carpet of crushed diamonds in the early morning sunshine. Though, the few grey clouds that dotted the sky made a promise of rain later on in the day—and, if the weather report is reliable enough to go off of, that later would be sooner than noon.

However, despite those warnings, I decided to go on my Saturday morning walk to gain inspiration for my artwork.

I had been in a slump for months now and, if I’m being honest with myself, it’s mostly due to my poor life balance between school, work and my own sanity. So, maybe a long walk through campus will do me some good…hopefully.

“Kyoko? What’re you doing out here so early?”

A familiar voice and a pair of steps sounded from behind me. “Zenni and Chae Yeong? Hey!” I smiled as my two closest friends walked up to me in cropped hoodies and sweats. “I’m going on a walk, and you?” Zenni smiles back at me, “Same here.”

“It’s too pretty of a morning not to,” Chae Yeong finished, “How about we walk together?” I nod, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

•

“So, have you seen him…?” Chae Yeong mumbles to us as if she’s telling the world’s darkest secret. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Seen who?” Zenni voices my thoughts.

“The new student? Jeon Jungkook?”

My eyes grow wide and I gasp, “No way. The Jeon Jungkook…? Nope…never heard of him.” I chuckle as Chae Yeong huffs and slaps my arm. “I’m being serious Kyoko!”

“Okay, so who’s this ‘Jeon Jungkook’ you speak of?” Zenni asks between amused snickers. Chae Yeong’s eyes sparkle as she begins to explain.

“I first met him in Professor Mae’s class. She was in the middle of explaining our social marketing project when he ran in panting and apologizing. And he sat down next to Bin Mi-Gyeong, lucky bitch. He has dark hair, a tattoo sleeve and wears all black. From what I gathered he’s a gamer on YouTube from Busan with over twelve million subscribers and eight million followers on Instagram. He curates at least one point two million likes between both platforms almost every day—Instagram, of course, gaining the most the fastest.”

Chae Yeong pulls out her phone and shoves it into our faces, my eyes forced to see a rather aesthetically pleasing Instagram page of an almost bunny looking, doe eyed boy.

“And he’s talented at everything he does. Just name it! Dance, singing, drawing, photography, boxing! He’s good at it all!”

I cross my arms. “And you just found out all of this…today?” The brunette only nods as she begins scrolling through the guy’s pictures—of which I’m sure she’s done a million times in the past hour.

“Come to think of it, I have heard of him,” Zenni starts, “Frankie Lennox was gossiping about him to her group of friends in class yesterday.”

“He just got here and he’s already making a fuss? I dunno if I’mma like this Jungkook guy,” I grumble. Chae Yeong just waves me off. “Oh, please, you say that now. But, wait until you see him. He missed most of his classes yesterday, but you share all of his morning courses.” Zenni laughs, “Be sure to say hi to him for me.” I roll my eyes, “Whatever.”

•

“Bak Yong, is that him? The one everyone’s been gawking over?” She sends me a dirty look but nods before returning back to her schoolwork.

Truthfully, I couldn’t help but to feel a bit curious. The boy had been the talk of the town lately. He and his friend, Bak Jimin, were rising in fame at the school rapidly. It was almost scary how far looks alone could get you. That’s definitely something I could never relate to. I sigh. “Someone like him would totally end up with someone like Zenni or Chae Yeong…maybe even Yoko.”

Yoko was my younger sister of two years. But, even so, I seemed like the youngest. She was more beautiful and more talented than I ever was. And it had always been that way. Though, I had never been jealous of her…I could only ever be proud of her accomplishments. Proud of the fact that she had never ended up like me.

In a weird way, I guess that makes me kind of pathetic.

•

Another day had passed and I found myself in my pajamas eating ramen with Zenni and Chae Yeong. “You saw him today, right?”

“For damn near five hours.”

“What was your reaction?” I sigh, “I only thought of how he would be a perfect match for Yoko.”

There was a long pause after that (the only sound cutting the silence was the slurping of my noodles).

“Yoko? Why do you think so highly of her?” Zenni questions, and I could hear the faint trace of frustration in her voice. I shrug. “I’m just proud of who she’s become. I am her older sister after all.” Chae Yeong growls, “You know she doesn’t think the same of you.” I only shrug again. “What does that matter? She’s better than me in every way…and that’s okay.”

“And do you really think that?” Zenni raises an eyebrow at me. I nod. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I smile at her before looking down at the empty broth of my cup noodles.

It is okay, right?

•

“Now that I’ve explained your semi-finals project, I’ll be calling out the groups I chose. Since the class is uneven, there will be one team of three. Sītú Chan-juan and Kim Nabi, Ahn Min Jeong and Cha Ga Eul, Jeon Jungkook and Kangjeon Kyoko, Seok Nari and Asaki Luan—“

The world sat still for a moment. Everything went mute. And I could only focus on the fact that Professor Nam had just announced that Jeon Jungkook was my art project partner.

I could practically feel the hundreds of jealous eyes burning holes into every side of my head. I gulp.

I am so dead.

“Bak Yong, Bak Jimin and Seonghun Min. Please, go sit next to your partners. These will be your new assigned seats for the remainder of the year since you will have the same partners for the finals. Get started when you’re ready and remember to have fun, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The months of effort I put in to ignore him just so I could avoid a situation such as this one went down the drain as soon as Jungkook sat down in what was once Bak Yong’s seat. I groan, “What a disaster.”

“What’s a disaster?” He blinked at me with innocent eyes and a cheerful grin. “Hi, I’m Jungkook, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” I mumble. “Kyoko.”

“So, you’re Yoko’s older sister, huh?”

At the mention of Yoko’s name I sit up straight in my seat and turn all the way to face him. “You know Yoko?” He nods. “Yeah, we’re close friends. She told me that you think the world of her so, mentioning her would get me on your good side. You’re really scary and cold, did you know that?”

I glare at him. “How do you know Yoko?”

“She’s a really popular singer on YouTube these days. We met playing Among Us during a livestream with some mutual friends.” I purse my lips, “Well, if you’re good enough to be Yoko’s friend then, I guess you’re okay.”

“She said you’d say that, too…but, she doesn’t speak very highly of you.” I shrug. “So? Anyways, let’s get working on the project.”

•

A week. An entire week has past since I became Jungkook’s desk mate and project partner.

An entire week of threats and bullying. An entire week of bloody fights and teacher conferences.

An entire week of no motherfucking peace.

And yet Jungkook sat in front of me with the most carefree smile and, truly, wholeheartedly, I wanted to deck him in his pretty face so damn bad. But, instead, I grind my teeth together and continue searching for a reference for the portrait we decided to work on.

“Kyoko…?” His voice is soft as he murmurs my name. I glance up at him. “Yeah?”

“Can I…use you as reference for the portrait?” He’s shy as he asks. It really made me want to punch him even more.

“Why? Just use Yoko,” I reply dismissively.

“But, I—“

I glare at him.

“I wanna draw you.”

I sigh and sip my coffee. What the hell for? Though, as I continue to stare at him, I couldn’t bring myself to voice my thoughts. “Alright, fine, but don’t be upset with me when the painting gets ruined.”

And in turn his infamous bunny smile is directed at me as a faint blush dusts his cheeks. “Thanks.”

•

At some point honey lemon black tea—that and iced coffee—became my favorite drink to sip on while perfecting my art skills. And I had shared my newly found obsession with Chae Yeong, Zenni, Yoko and Jungkook.

It wasn’t long before him and I began sharing one cup with two straws of the sourly sweet flavored tea as he sketched me in his notebook more times than I cared to remember and as I sketched out different backgrounds for the easel.

“Y’know…you’re really pretty, Kyoko.”

“Stop mumbling nonsense.”

Jungkook had also become a lot more bolder and a lot more frequent when it came to voicing his nonsensical thoughts. Which, more or less, were compliments directed at me.

“But, it’s not nonsense. I really think so,” he continued confidently.

I put down my pencil with a sigh. “You don’t have to lie to me to get on my good side, Jungkook, I already like you.”

The ravenette blinks harshly at me before his nose scrunches up disapprovingly, “You can’t even tell a compliment from an insult. Does everyone really think that lowly of you?” I only shrug. “When you have the most perfect and beautiful younger sister, you’re kinda always compared. And…I’m okay with that.”

It’s silent for a moment too long, and I think the conversation is over, when he lets out a frustrated groan.

“I know we’ve known each other for barely a month now but, I’ve known your sister for two years and I think that—“ He cuts himself off, his face flushing a potent bright red. I raise an eyebrow at him, a gesture that he continue his sentence.

“…I think you’re more worth it than she is.”

“Worth what?” I breathed.

“Everything that she has and more.”

I glance up at him for a while. Trying to grasp onto every word he’s stated. I’m worth that much to him? That thought alone caused me to smile at him. “Whatever,” I chuckle, “Just get back to work.”

I pick up my pencil again, ready to begin drawing, when his next words caused me to drop it on the floor and abruptly stand up from my chair, “I like you, Kyoko.”

My fists begin to quiver as I glare down at him. “Alright, dude, you can stop now. Do you really think I’m that gullible? I can’t believe you.”

I hastily grab my things and rush out of the main campus library. “What an idiot,” I huff.

•

I didn’t see him for the next few days after that. We occasionally sent pictures of our progress to the project and some times, every now and then, he’d send a voice memo of him singing American slow jams.

Other than that…the weekend was quite boring.

“It hasn’t even been a month since we started talking to each other, do you think he actually likes me?” I voice my thoughts to Zenni as she smacked on some cereal she had ordered from abroad. Chae Yeong was in her room cussing out some poor fella on her team in Apex.

“Kyoko…he’s liked you far longer than that,” Zenni speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “What the hell makes you say that?”

“He came up to us not too long before your project began, asking us if you hated him and if there was a way to make sure you two became partners. He said that Yoko gave him a misinterpreted version of yourself and that you’re the exact opposite of who she said you were.”

“It sounds as if Yoko is jealous of you,” Chae Yeong interjects. “She wanted to make sure Jungkook never liked you. Guess that backfired.”

Chae Yeong turns around from where she had been rummaging through the fridge. “So, are you gonna call him?” She takes a sip of her beer before heading back inside her room.

•

The phone rang once…twice…, “Hello? Kyoko?”

My breath hitches at the sound of his voice. This is the first time we’ve spoken on the phone. I clear my throat. “D’you wanna go to the gaming basement with me?”

I hear him take in a quick breath before humming. “Uh…yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”

“Yeah? Okay. Does around twelve sound good?”

He hums again. “Yeah, that’s fine. C’ya then.”

•

Somehow, in the middle of playing COD, his lips met mine after a well-deserved victory. “You didn’t push me away,” he breaths. I chuckle, “Don’t worry, I thought about.” I sit back in my seat and hum. “But, you’re a damn good kisser, Mr. Jeon.”

He blinks, shocked by my bluntly honest answer, “Really? Well—uh—thanks.”

I lean in close with a small grin, poking his nose, “Lemme kiss you again, okay?” Jungkook begins coughing with wide eyes and leans away. “Eh!? You can’t just say stuff like that Kyoko!” I laugh, “Why not? I liked it so, naturally, I’d wanna do it again.” I lay my head on the table and grab his hand.

“I kinda like you…I wanna kiss you more than once.” Being so honest was foreign to me, however, I didn’t mind it all that much.

After getting over his initial shock Jungkook laid his head down next to mine. “Then, do me a favor—“ he pecks my lips, “—become my girlfriend.” I hum. “Sure, why not? I’d be doing you a favor.” He chuckles and grips my hand back, “Yeah, you would be.”

•

“WHAT? He’s your boyfriend now!?” Chae Yeong yells in my face. She squeezes my shoulders. “The progress happened so quickly!”

“Yeah, it did,” I smile to myself.

It was a cloudy morning as Chae Yeong and I walked around campus. We were meeting up with Zenni and Jimin (who had began dating not too long ago) at our local coffee shop Honey Lemon. Kind of an ironic name. “Kyoko!”

I perk up at the voice that beckoned me. “Kookie.”

Chae Yeong waves happily at him as his steps sync with ours. “Heading to the cafe?” He grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. I nod. “Yeah.”

“Then, let’s go together.”

I grin, “Mmmm. Yeah, let’s go.”

“You guys are such love birds,” Chae Yeong cackles, “But, I totally called it.”

[rosignoelle]

mckirk rec list

Some of my favourites from this pairing, in order of increasing word count. All of the fics listed here are aos inspired (i’m a total spirk shipper when it comes to tos but mckirk has my heart for the aos).

where i lay my hat

Rating: G

Word Count: 5k

“If Bones wants to spend a ridiculous amount of his own salary keeping an empty apartment, then by all means.”

Jim accidentally moves in with Bones over the course of several shore leaves. The relationship progression is lovely.

and i can lend you all my broken parts that might fit (like this)

Rating: E

Word Count: 17k

“Academy Era. First they fall into bed. Then they fall in love”

A study in intimacy.

blueshift

Rating: E

Word Count: 22k

“When Leonard shows up at Starfleet Academy, he wonders just how drunk he was when he met with the recruiter. He has no friends, misses his kid, and if drowning his sorrows doesn't kill him, PT will. Then he meets Jim Kirk again.”

This is probably one of my favourite depictions of a character with depression. A little rushed towards the end, but very well written overall.

Better Strangers

Rating: E

Word Count: 23k

“When Leonard McCoy moves to San Francisco it's to start a new life. Something different from his old life. That means putting up with Starfleet policies, combat classes, idiot hospital employees and Jim Kirk.”

Major focus on Bones working as a doctor, which I love, and the characterizations feel spot on! The ending is a little abrupt.

Denial

Raring: E (teen until the last chapter)

Word Count: 26k

“Denial or, 5 times Bones touched Jim when he wouldn't know, and one time he did. When Leo bumped into the kid at the bar, he never knew that he'd met the one who would save him from his loneliness.”

This is written in a stream of consciousness style which plays out very well. A very sensual piece.

Old Man and the Enterprise

Rating: M

Word Count: not listed but probably ~30k

“The life and times of James T. Kirk and Leonard H. McCoy; a series of short scenes which start on shore leave and end in the indefinable future.”

This is not a sad fic by any means, but it feels mournful and yearning and lovely. gorgeous allusions to literature throughout.

This Business of Art

Rating: M (maybe T+)

Word Count: 46k

“Art culture modern AU mystery --- “Listen, Jim, I don’t know what you’re trying to do. Whether it’s taking the skeletons out of your closet or resurrecting some lost essence your father possessed…it’s not going to work.” He leveled his gaze upon Jim’s own, “It will only bring about more pain and upset everyone you love while you’re at it.” – the problem was, Jim thought, in this world of art and business who did he love, friend or foe?”

It’s a murder mystery and and art AU all in in one! I adore how this author adapted canon tidbits to their AU. Great use of foreshadowing.

Touch and Go (Right in Front is You)

Rating: M

Word Count: 48k

“Four days. That's now long Leonard had known Jim. Four days and eight train rides, during which they'd shared three thermoses of tea, several pints of beer, a handful of snacks and texts, and a red and white tin of mints that started the whole fucking thing.”

This is a great story— the author lived in the area where the story is set, which contributes to the gorgeous world building. It also has a nice focus on friendship and an ensemble cast!

the violence of comets

Rating: T

Word Count: 57k

“Jim has never once, in his life, believed in love. He wears his bare skin with only his own tattoo circling his ankle as a badge of honor. He meets a man named Leonard McCoy on a shuttle in Riverside, Iowa who believes exactly the opposite.”

A very cute AU with a nice focus on building trust.

Love, Like Ghosts

Rating: E

Word Count: 64k

“This is several stories, not just the story of Jim & Bones' epic romance.

Jim's story. "Most would think defeating the Narada was my greatest triumph, but those closest to me know the truth. The Narada was a distant third. My last Kobayashi Maru comes in second-- and not for the reasons you'd think. The first, well..."

Chris's story. "I reached a certain age and thought I knew exactly who I was and what I wanted out of life. Then I walked into an Iowa bar and realized I wasn't the person I thought I knew. Not even close..."

Leonard's story. "You know that story? the one where Pike meets Kirk and there's mentoring and bonding and they tiptoe through the tulips into happily ever? Well, this ain't it. Dipshit."”

The characters are so wonderfully flawed in this fic, it feels like a psychological piece in the best way.

visions

Rating: M

Word Count: 65k

“Jim and Bones met in high school. music was something they shared from the start. Over the years after they parted ways, they find each other again and again, and wonder if there will ever be some version of the future where the two of them can be together”

This is tagged as a high school au, but is primarily set during adulthood. A great example of non-linear storytelling, and a happy ending guaranteed!

Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe

Rating: E

Word Count: 70k

“From Variety, June 2008:

Pavel Chekov ("Charlie X") and Gaila ("Bread and Circuses") have joined the cast of small budget drama "That Which Survives," funded by Fleet's indie arm Academy and supervised by Nyota Uhura.The debut feature from longtime script doctor Leonard McCoy, former show runner on sitcom "Three to Tango," centers on a college student coping with his father's terminal cancer. Chekov plays the son, Gaila the nurse. The father is yet to be cast. Also attached are director James T. Kirk and producer Spock, the team behind the blockbuster spy-girl franchise starring Carol Marcus, the latest of which, "A Taste of Armageddon," opened last month. (A modern-day Hollywood AU.)”

The romance definitely takes the back burner here, which suits the realistic vibe of the fic. the storytelling is really well done.

En Promenade

Rating: E

Word Count: 73k

“After three months of weekend bar-hopping and a slow process of elimination -- with finding the right bar, that was, and tragically not discovering who Bones was into -- Jim was starting to narrow it down. Bones was actively scowling less, which seemed like a good sign, but Jim still didn’t quite have it right, and lo, he was determined.”

It’s the dancing fic. One of my all-time favourites, this is an excellent academy-era fic with a plot that manages to be both absolutely insane but incredibly compelling.

Friends with all my Demons

Rating: E

Word Count: 93k

“Someone has to teach Jim Kirk how to take care of himself, ‘cause he sure as hell isn’t picking it up on his own.”

A gorgeous academy-era slow burn, strong focus on medicine and how bones balances being jim’s doctor and his friend which was really nice to read.

Catching Fire (The Firehouse AU)

Rating: E

Word Count: 137k

“21st Century fire department AU. Paramedic Leonard McCoy flees a disastrous break-up in Savannah and ends up working at a fire department in Iowa.”

The character development in this fic is exquisite, and Bones makes for a great unreliable narrator which allows for some great set ups.

Two Men and a Motorbike

Rating: E

Word Count: 150k

Alternate Link AO3 Link

“One of the few constants in James Kirk's life the last three years has been his best friend, Leonard McCoy. After saving Earth from a bunch of crazy time-traveling Romulans, Jim & Bones find out what happens when best friends cross the line between friendship and something more after a late night ride on Jim's motorbike. There are good times and bad times, and times that are just plain complicated.”

A post-Narada academy fic that’s simultaneously a total romp and wonderfully endearing. Also has a 60k sequel with an emotionally mature depiction of two (admittedly fucked up) individuals navigating a romantic relationship.

Switch

Rating: E

Word Count: 230k

“The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense. A Starfleet Academy story, set in the ST:XI universe.”

For me this is THE mckirk fic. The storytelling is so seductive. It’s beautifully written and the characters are deeply compelling.

[seidenbros]

Rock You Like a Hurricane

Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (perv) Female!Reader

Word count: 3416

Summary: Twice you've been enjoying each other's company now, and Eddie keeps thinking about you. But when he finds you sitting in his apartment when he comes home, you scare him nearly to death. A little punishment leads to a lot more.

Warning/Tags: shameless smut/porn, dirty talk, bit ofmasturbation (f), vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (m receiving), deepthroating, breast fucking, shower sex, multiple orgasms (let me know if I missed anything) | 18+ MINORS DNI

A/N: WELL I guess this turned into a series now, but you can read each part by itself and don't need the others for this. This is smut after all (probably should call this porn instead of smut). And the wonderful @ethereal27cereal came up with the Naughty Neighbours, so I'll just name the series like that. Thanks for that, love

Read on AO3

Naughty Neighbours Series: Part 1 | Part 2

Work had been a hassle with customers that changed their mind mid-tattoo and that one woman, who’d been trying to get something more of him when she brushed the back of her hand against him again and again in places where her hand had no business being. At first he’d thought it had just been an accident, but when she’d told him that she could come back later to show him how grateful and happy she was about her new tattoo, there had been no doubt about her intentions. But Eddie had politely declined. And then not so politely when she’d waited in front of the shop for him after they’d closed. Eddie had gone back in to wait until she got bored and went home.

Maybe, a couple of weeks ago, he might have taken her up on that offer, but not now. That night he’d spent with you, after he’d just climbed over the balconies when your door had been open, had been in his mind ever since. It had only been a couple of days since that night, but you’d been on his mind all the time. And he wanted to repeat that, wanted to hear your pretty moans again, and he would certainly knock on your door, but first he had to get home and get changed.

When Eddie turned on the lights and closed the door, he was ready to head for the fridge and pour himself a big glass of Whiskey. It had been a long day, but he was glad that he didn’t have anything in his hands when he turned around and saw you on his sofa.“Jesus H Christ!” placing a calming hand over his heart, he stared at you, but his lips slowly pulled up into a smirk, as his eyes landed on the black lace panties, the matching garter belt and stockings that adorned your legs. He dropped to his knees, bracing himself on the hand that was not clutching his heart. “You’re trying to kill me, right? Scaring the bejesus out of me and then looking like that!”

“Well, just wanted to return the favour!”

You were nervous, there was no denying it, because you’d never done anything like that. Even before, you’d worried about what to wear, whether this was the right decision, but you were here now. It was a good thing that you had a whole drawer full of pretty underwear, because that at least made you feel a little sexy while you were sitting here in front of him, heart racing in your chest. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, about his hands all over your body, his eyes watching you as you touched yourself, because he’d wanted to watch you. This night had fueled your dreams and fantasies, and you wanted more.

“In scaring me half to death?” He smirked, slowly getting back up on his feet to close the distance between you. “You’re lucky that you’re so incredibly hot, especially in that outfit.” His eyes raked over your body, swallowing hard, because he wanted to throw you over his shoulder and carry you down the hall to repeat just what you’d done the last time, but then he thought better of it. “Still… need a little punishment for scaring me like that.”

“Ohh,” you managed, breath catching in your throat, and you felt your arousal shoot straight to your core because of his words. You were willing to try new things with him. That was the beauty of this… arrangement? If you could even call it that, because both of you had kind of slipped right into this without talking about it. But you trusted him, felt comfortable enough to explore new things and even voice your needs.

“I mean…” Eddie pedalled back a little, licked his lips thinking about how to word his thoughts. He didn’t want to scare you away, not now that he’d gotten a taste of you. But all this had to be completely consensual.

“No, you’re right.” You said getting off the couch to drop to your knees in front of him. You looked up at him through your lashes. “I need to be punished for that.” The small smile that was playing on your lips betrayed your words a little bit, but you achieved what you wanted with them: That Eddie felt comfortable in his position again. You could see it immediately, the way his eyes glazed over, the way he palmed his growing erection through his pants.

“I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” Eddie smirked, brushing his knuckles across your cheek. “You’re gonna get to work yourself or you need me to tell you?” His thumb brushed over your plump bottom lip, and he groaned when your tongue darted out to meet his thumb. You could see him getting impatient when he pulled back his hands to unbuckle his belt.

You pushed his hands away and opened his jeans, pulled them down along with his boxers. The sigh of relief from Eddie’s lips made you look up at him when you licked the palm of your hand before you wrapped it around his dick. You felt him shiver slightly at the touch. Eddie managed to pull his shirt over his head to get that out of the way, before he looked back down at you.

Your hand started moving along his length, pumping him until he was fully hard, which didn’t take long. Eddie gathered your hair in one hand to hold it back from your face, eyes fixed on you when you ran your flat tongue along the underside of his cock, swirled your tongue around the head. You closed your lips around him and sucked, your hand still holding him at the base.

“Fucking hell… that feels good!” He’d been thinking about this among other things, but especially about your plump lips wrapped around his cock while you looked up at him. And you didn’t disappoint, no, it was even better than in his imagination.

When you took him deeper, you could hear him groan, the grip on your hair tightening. You put your hands on his thighs, urging him on when you felt his hips buck against you, pushing himself even deeper, making you gag.

“Such a pretty little mouth… doing such dirty things…” He panted, his hips thrusting forward again, but you didn’t stop him, instead you urged him on. This was your punishment, but you enjoyed it way more than you’d probably like to admit. “Taking my cock so well, sweetheart…”

You moaned around his cock when you heard his words, the vibrations making him gasp. You relaxed your throat, when you took all of him, your nose buried in the fine curls above his dick. You nearly made him fold in on himself, because he hadn’t expected that. When you pulled back slightly, Eddie couldn’t control himself and thrust into your mouth. Tears started pricking your eyes, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the blissed out look on Eddie’s face when he looked down at you and fucked your throat, muttering something you couldn’t make out. But then he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air. Your right hand came up to wipe at the corners of your mouth, to wipe the drool away, while Eddie stood in front of you.

“As heavenly as that was, I don’t wanna shoot my load down your throat. Not today.” Eddie said with a smirk, and you couldn’t help but whimper at his words. Another promise of more that made you clench your thighs together. You knew that your panties were already soaked with your own slick, because pleasing him like this had only made your own arousal grow even more. And then you remembered what you’d said the last time. That he could fuck your tits next time.

You scrambled to your feet only to sit on the sofa, which gave you the perfect height for this. Eddie stepped in front of you, eyes fixed on your slightly swollen lips, before he looked back into your eyes.

“As pretty as that bra is… take it off!” And you followed, reached one hand around your back to unclasp the bra and let it fall down to the floor.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” He brushed his fingertips over your cheek, but then dropped them down to your tits, his thumbs brushing over your erect nipples, making you let out a little moan. “Yeah, fucking perfect… and these gorgeous tits…” He cupped them with his hands and pushed them together, prodded his cock against them. “You gonna let me fuck these perfect tits of yours?” He was waiting for your approval, because even though you’d mentioned it the last time, didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to change your mind.

“God yes,” you breathed out, the thought already making you even wetter. Your hand wrapped around his cock and led him between your tits, and he slid between them easily, still lubed up from your spit and his precum. Eddie didn’t waste any time and bucked up his hips again and again, eyes fixed on your tits while his thumbs rolled your nipples beneath them again and again.

“Such a fucking good girl… you’re a dream come true!” You looked at his face, at the pleasure you could see there, knowing that you were the reason for that, and that definitely boosted your ego. But you were getting desperate for some friction as well. Since he was pushing your tits together, your hands were free, and so you found yourself running your left hand down your body to disappear into your panties, only to be greeted by your own arousal coating your fingers immediately. You rubbed them over your clit, moaning out Eddie’s name. That certainly got Eddie’s attention, and his eyes wandered down to see what you were doing.

“Oh yeah, rub that clit for me. Make yourself feel good. You deserve it! Been such a good girl tonight.” He rambled, he always did when he got close. His movements got sloppier, because he tried to get a glimpse at your hand in your panties, but you managed to pull his eyes back towards your lips when you stuck your tongue out to touch the head of his cock with every thrust he gave you. “Jesus Christ, you’re really something… Letting me fuck your tits like that… Goddamn, I’m so close… Are you close?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled an answer, your fingers rubbing your clit a bit harder, getting you closer and closer to the edge. You’d never been so close so fast, but this whole situation was something that had you longing for more. More of this, more of him, and you could have probably come just from giving him that pleasure.

“Go ahead… make yourself come. I wanna see you, hear these beautiful noises from you!” Eddie pretty much ordered, while he let go of your tits, taking his cock into his own hand while he watched you. Your eyes were fixed on him as you felt that coil inside you tighten even further before it finally snapped and your cunt clenched around nothing, sending wave after luxurious wave through your body. Your legs trembled, your hands haltet in their movement, while you chanted his name over and over. Eddie Eddie Eddie!

Seeing and hearing you like this made Eddie let go as well. He’d needed to see you like this to let go, and he grunted and cursed when he shot his load all over your chest, milking himself dry with his fist, until you were both a panting mess.

You slowly pulled your hand out of your soiled panties, but before you could do anything else or say anything, Eddie wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you up and into his arms, not caring that his own seed was no pressed against his chest, he just needed to hold you.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked into your neck, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss against the skin, while his fingertips made their way down your back.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked with a laugh, pulling back slightly to look at him. “That was fucking intense… and amazing.”

“Good.” You saw relief wash over him before he tilted your head up to kiss your lips. “Didn’t know if all that was… okay. We haven’t exactly talked about a lot.”

“No shit.” You chuckled against his lips, your hands landing on his arms, slowly stroking upwards.

“Want to join me in the shower again?” Eddie asked, his hands running over your sides to the garter belt you’d nearly forgotten about. “Maybe keep these on?”

“Oh, you like them?”

“Sure do. Just had my hands full with other things before.” The smirk on his lips made you swallow hard, because even though you’d just come, you felt your arousal rise again because of him, because of his words and the gentle way he touched your hips, before he let his fingertips rum over the smooth fabric of your stockings.

“You sure did,” you couldn’t help the chuckle that came over your lips, your body responding to his almost innocent touches. You didn’t want to go home, you wanted more of him, and so you took his hand in yours. “I think they’ll survive a shower. And these panties are ruined anyway.” You took a step back from him to shimmy your panties down your legs, but when you wanted to toss them to your bra, Eddie took them from your hand.

“Mind if I keep them? To remember this night?”

“N-No… they’re all yours.” The glint in his eyes made your heart beat faster, and you watched him put your bunched up panties into the pocket of his jeans that were still pooled around his ankles. Now, he stepped out of them and threw them onto the sofa.

Eddie took your hand in his and led the way to his bathroom. The layout of his apartment was similar to yours, but you were still glad that he was walking ahead, because you would have probably ended up in his bedroom, since you weren’t thinking straight. Not with everything that had happened tonight that was clouding your head.

He turned on the water and waited a second before he stepped in, still holding your hand to help you inside. When the hot water hit your skin, you gasped, but then it started to feel good. Eddie stepped behind you, his lips pressed to your shoulder as he reached for the shower gel to pour something into his hands. You’d masturbated in front of him, you’d had sex, but this right here, right now, felt more intimate somehow. You closed your eyes when you felt his hands all over your body, making sure that he got you really clean.

You returned the favour, mapping out his body with your hands while you lathered his body up. The scent from the showet gel filled your nose. Something fresh with a hint of lemon and mint. Once you’d washed all the shower gel off your bodies, Eddie pulled you back against his chest again. You gasped when you felt how hard he was against your back.

“Can’t help it… you have that effect on me, princess.” He kissed the shell of your ear, kissed further down the side of your neck before he slotted his lips over the spot where your neck met your shoulder, and sucked softly.

“I’m not complaining,” you said, taking one of his hands in yours to push it between your legs and show him how ready you were for him again, because Eddie had that same effect on you as well.

“Fuck,” he cursed against your skin, lifting his head again, wet curls grazing over your shoulder before he turned you around in his arms. One last look in your eyes, before he kissed you like he was drowning and you were the only source of oxygen for him. You wrapped your arms around him, looking for some support as you felt him lift you up. Your back hit the wall, but the slight pain was quickly overturned by the pleasure you felt as the tip of his cock brushed against your aching core.

Eddie pushed one hand between your bodies to guide his cock into position so that he could slide into you easily. Your legs wrapped around his middle, as you tore your lips from his in a loud moan. He was buried deep inside you, stretching you so good that you could swear that you were seeing stars for a moment. The pain gave way to pleasure, as he pulled nearly all the way out only to slam back into you.

“Oh fuck… Eddie!” Your nails scratched his shoulders.

“Mhm?” he mumbled a response, his head leaning against your shoulder, while his fingers dug into the supple flesh of your thighs, keeping you in position. When rolled his hips once again, you gave another moan that was practically music to his ears, the sweetest sounds he’d heard all day.

“What do you need?” he asked all sweetly, lifting his head just enough to look into your eyes, his pupils blown wide from lust, mirroring your own, because you wanted him so much, needed him.

“I need…” You tried to collect your thoughts, but failed. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, which immediately drew Eddie’s attention there. “I need your dick… I need it rough Eddie! Just.., fuck me please, this is torture!”

“I’m not trying to torture you.” Eddie leaned down to steal a kiss from your lips, before he straightened a bit. “Just figuring out what you need.” And with that he started to set an unrelenting pace, pistoning in and out of you with deep, hard thrusts that left you a moaning, mewling mess, completely drunk on him and his cock.

“Look at you… all needy and so… so pretty. Fuck!” Eddie grunted, his hands keeping you in place, while he gave you just what you needed, just what you’d asked for. You could already feel it again, the next oragsm, that was threatening to pull you under.

“I’m… fuck Eddie… so close!” Your moans echoed through the bathroom, and you were pretty sure that your nails would leave marks in his shoulders that he’d still be able to see the next day. “Gonna come… I need to-” Your words were interrupted by your own orgasm that suddenly rolled over you. Your legs wrapped around him tighter, your pussy clenching around his cock again and again, making his hips stutter.

“That’s it! Fuck you’re so pretty like this! Such a good girl! Taking all of my cock. Keep going!” His hand was between your bodies all of a sudden, his fingers rubbing over your clit to prolong your orgasm, while he kept thrusting into you. It didn’t take him long to reach his own high when your walls were gripping him so tight. Eddie’s head rested on your shoulder a string of curse words leaving his lips, as he painted your gummy walls with his white hot seed.

Your head was swimming, your legs absolute pudding as he slowly lowered you onto them. Your hands still held onto his shoulders, because you would have just collapsed to the floor otherwise. Eddie realised that and wrapped one arm around your middle to hold you up, to hold you close.

“Come on… I’ll clean you up and then… we can maybe get something to eat, how’s that sound?” His voice was low and quiet next to your ear. “I think we can both use that to regain some energy, hm?”

“Yeah… probably.” You chuckled as you placed your head against his shoulders, closing your eyes. You needed another moment, but it was nice to feel him taking care of you. He was careful, treated you like the most precious thing he’d ever had, and that made you feel even more at ease in his presence.

“Wanna stay the night? That way you won’t have to climb over the balconies again.” Eddie chuckled as he pushed your wet hair from your face. “Or risk someone seeing you like that in the hallway.” And even though he didn’t want to admit it, he’d prefer it if nobody else saw you like that.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

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Let me know (send me a message) if you want to be on one of my tag-lists. I have one for the Promises Series, Eddie x Reader, Steddie and Steve x Reader 💚

[chronic-claire-universe]

Tokyo Revengers: Bad Habits

Hello my sweet plums, hard times come always in the disparate moments that’s why I always come up with new ideas in the depth of night. Bad habits, we have tons of them as humans, but what are those of our bad boys?

Characthers: Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Hajime Kokonoi

Warnings: Smut, Smoke, Impact Play, Degradation Kink, Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Use Of Safe Word, Minors DNI, 18+

A.N: Thanks @roppongiperfume for being always inspirational for my works 💜

AFTERSEX CIGARETTE

“F-fuck princess, so hot when you beg for my cock like this” Ran groans while moving his hips towards yours. Hand on his purple hair, the only thing that you can do is moan his name every time he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

“Ran I love it, I love you” you say while marking his tattooed back with your nails making him hiss in pleasured pain, “Shit, calm down princess don’t want me to cum already, right?” he says near your ear making you shiver for his imposing voice, “Ran, wanna come with you” you mewl with tears in your eyes, his styled and slow movements making you impatient to reach your orgasm and finally see the fucked up face your husband gift you while shooting ropes of white cum inside your walls, “Ran want you to cum inside me!” you say with doe eyes trying to not moan meanwhile, “Tsk, tsk, that’s not how you ask for something right?” he says while taking your face and blocking your vision into his lusted one, “Say the right name” he continues while going faster “Ah, yes daddy more!” your walls tighten at the new stimulation he gives while circling your clit, “Want daddy to cum inside you? - shit - let it go princess cmon” he grunts before his balls tighten and shoot ropes of cum inside your convulsing walls.

“Fuck this was so good” you say while panting beside him, “Just this time princess?” he says while turning to you, sweated forehead and disheveled hair, “Why do you need to be so handsome even with this fucked up state?” you inquire while caressing his face, “No need to worry about it, it’s all yours this pretty face after all” he chuckles while standing up and giving his signature smirk, he opens the balcony door while lighting his cigarette, “You need to stop blowing that pocket cancer if you want to be mibe all your life, it’s already enough trying to cope up with your fucking work and boss. I’d rather give you a more interesting blow than this shit” you say while giving him a smack into his naked ass taking his cock into your hands and making the cigarette fall on the floor, “Think that I’ll quit if this is the treatment”

IMPACT PLAY

“Look at you, taking me so well!” Rindou says while harshily slapping your ass cheek, it’s hours that he’s been fucking you in every position, leaving bites and bruises all over your body, the only features that adornes your face are begs, tears and painful orgasms.

“Being so good for me” he praises snapping his hips violently towards yours, Rindou is out of his mind he only feels his pleasure, the raw pleasure to fuck his previous load inside you, and keep it while being sure to fix it deep into your womb.

“Fuck think I’m gonna cum another time” he says unbothered to even hear your answer, he grunts tightening the grip into your waist you scream in pain while he shoot spurts of load, his hips falter feeling the warm liquid flowing and making his cock hard again, “Gotta fuck you again” he says despite the overstimulation but he stops as soon as he hears a word and you faint face on the pillow.

“Y/N, fuck fuck love I’m sorry” he says while turning and seeing your tears streaming even though you’re unconscious, “Love please” he says while caressing your face and seeing the state he reduced you, he doesn’t even remember when your tears and begs started to be an ask to stop this insane sex, and he finds himself cursing in his mind.

Your eyes open at the feeling of the warm water touching your naked skin, “Rin” you say with a smile, “Don’t” he says while avoiding your gaze and adjusting his glasses, “I’m sorry" he mutters giving you his shoulders and taking something, “Don’t know what happened, I was out of my mind and too much angry” he continues taking a bath cream that he starts to smear in your back, “Don’t wanted to make you cry, I mean it” he says exhaling a breath, “Rin” stopping his hand and taking his chin you make him look at you, lucid purple eyes stare at you, “I know you didn’t mean it, everything is ok got it? Just find another way to calm down, I can’t cope up with this negative energy of yours” you say before kissing him, “But you faint” he says locking his lips with yours, “Then you just have to learn how to avoid it next time, right?” you say still looking at him, “Right - told nii-san I’m not going to work for the weekend” he says with a blush, “Good, cause you need to pamper me to be forgiven” you reply with a grin, making him blush and low his gaze towards the floor.

DEGRADATION KINK

Insecurities and thought are what fill your smart husband’s mind, “Look at this whore, beggin to be fucked” he says ruining the lingerie you wore to help him distract his mind, but this endep up in a fucked up situation where Koko takes you from you behind and slaps you with bribes and insult you, “You can’t even answer filthy whore, too fucked up by this rich cock to say something?” he inquires while fasting his thrusts into your cunt, “Koko” you cry tigting the grip into the pillows, “Don’t fuckin ruin my sheets with your filthy hands” he says taking them and arking you up you start to feel the mental exhaustion of this attitude, “Koko” you repeat again trying to look at him with your blurred vision, “What bitch? Want more? Then I’ll give you more” he snakily says while taking you to his chest, pinching your nipples and continuing his humiliating process, “You’re nothing but a whore, tell it? Is it right? You’re here for my money? Just like everyone else?” he says before spitting into your cheeks. The point of no return hits both of you when he does this, your cries fill the room and you start to tremble wanting to go away from him, “KOKO - NGH - STOP” you cry incessantly trembling in fear, “Angel?” Koko says stopping his rythm while looking at you through the mirror glass, “Koko no more” you say turning your face and sobbing harder, “Angel I’m sorry…” he says while caressing your naked body, “I don’t know why I said those things, I thin- think I’m still insecure about this” he says while caressing you and letting his platinum hair run down your shoulder and back, “Will you forgive me?” he says while trying to calm you down, “Of course” you say while calming down your whimpers, his hands delicately trace you making you exhale a calm breath “There’s something you want me to do? Perhaps tha-” he mutters before you stop him and hearing his heartbeat you say “Don’t need gifts, just make love with me next time” you mutter finally able to look at him in the eyes, “This is something so simple” he says while caressing your cheek and adjusting your hair, “Bath now? Jacuzzi is ready to gift you some deserved relax” he says while taking your hand towards your foggy bathroom, “Only if you stay with me love” you say while looking at his precious face, “That is something I plan to do for the rest of my life”

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[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

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

[nationalharryleague]

Two for the Show

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

Genre: Famous Fake Dating! 

Word Count: 17.1k!

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

***

Keeping appearances in the public eye is a delicate balance.

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

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

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

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

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

But something kept holding her back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

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

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

“I see,” she mused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

All was going according to Jeff’s plan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was honestly speechless. This was huge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response came only seconds later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really good job, kiddos.

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

@Harry_Styles: We treat people with kindness.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Emma,” she breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were screaming in excitement, screaming for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

Fans took notice and loved it.

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

The fans loved that too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it was rude.”

“It was necessary.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to celebrate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you?”

“What?”

“About your ex.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always,” he said with a gentle smirk.

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

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

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

“What a dirtbag.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck it,” she shrugged. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Noted.”

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

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

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

“Were the rest of us chopped liver?”

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

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

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

“Rude-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, I have another!”

“Watch it, smart ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was her best friend.

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

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

“Just remember me when you get famous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re welcome, love.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you flirting with me, Styles?”

“Just practicing.”

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

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

He was always in hers.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

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

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

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

“You said you liked surprises!” he defended.

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

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

“Sing what?”

“That’s the surprise.”

“Do I even know the words?”

“You definitely know the words,” he chuckled.

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

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

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

“I had Lambert put something together for you.”

“Of course you did.”

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

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

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

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She could never say no to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

There he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t remember anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just a question, princess.”

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

“What’s so funny?”

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

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

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

“You're cruel.”

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh thank god,” they mumbled in unison.

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

“How did I get into Harry’s clothes?”

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

“But why Harry’s?”

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think it would be weird.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Neither do I.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An extra for our babies can be found here!

[gucciwins]

Leather and Lace

The one where Harry goes to the Grammy's and Y/N is his date

Word count: 4,960

A/N: Hello beautiful friends! Harry at the Grammy's just blew me away, the leather look is all I want to talk about for the rest of my life.

I was feeling inspired and decided it was only fitting to continue Adore You. Part two is Three Time following nominations. So this is part three. Yes, I have a soft spot for Harry and Atticus. Will always write for them if the inspiration strikes.

warnings: smut (female pleasure), pandemic

There's been one thought running through Y/N's head for most of the day, and Harry can tell because it's nearing five pm and she has not started on dinner. Instead, she's sitting on the backyard steps that give her the beautiful view of the pacific ocean, an empty glass of wine in hand.

Harry doesn't say anything, just sits next to her, knowing she will speak when she's ready, but he also knows she enjoys the quiet moments with him.

Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, letting out a deep breath before settling down the wine glass to wrap her arms around his bicep.

"You asked me an important question."

"Wasn't that important." He shrugs.

"Harry," No nickname making sure he knows she's serious. "It is important. You asked me to be your date to the Grammys where you're opening the show and are a three-time nominee during a pandemic."

"Well, when you put it like that." He teases.

Y/N and Harry made two years of dating on February 16. To celebrate, they had dinner from their favorite Italian food place with chocolate strawberries for dessert that Atticus made for them with the help of Mitch and Sarah, who were more than pleased to take him for the night. It was a beautiful day primarily spent in bed talking and enjoying each other, reminding each other how much they were loved and would continue to be as years went on.

Two years and their relationship has been well hidden. Honestly, Jeff has been impressed at how not one word has gotten out. This may be due to only close friends and family knowing about the relationship. Also that they spent almost one entire year inside due to this ongoing pandemic.

She's not worried about others finding out about her relationship with Harry; that isn't her big concern; it is what they will say about her and Atticus. Harry is a single dad to the world, and Atticus is his first priority, and everyone knows that; she does not want to be the reason they write about how Harry is a neglecting father for dating someone so openly. She fears the backlash and how it can affect how Harry sees her.

Reasonably, Y/N knows that won't happen and that Harry sees her as his life partner as he's told her on multiple occasions. Also, the assurance that Atticus gives to her by calling her Mum more openly around their family. The constant I love you's get her through it.

"I understand if you aren't ready, love."

"Don't think I'll ever be ready, but there are lots of times where I just find myself wanting to shout it from the rooftops how much I love you." Harry smiles, knowing he's felt the exact same way.

"Yes, I'll be your date to the Grammys." She breathes out after a moment of silence.

Harry sits up straight, shifting to make her look him in the eyes. "Yeah, you will?"

"I'd be honored."

Harry's smile is breathtaking, and the next thing she knows, his lips are on hers. It's passionate and full of thank you's because she knows how much this means to him.

He pulls back but not before pecking her lips twice.

"I'm going to call Jeff." Harry rushes inside, leaving her alone once more, but a sincere smile is left on her face.

Y/N said yes because even though a part of her wanted to say no, the urge to say yes won because to be there by his side holding his hand no matter the results win her over.

She says yes because as much as she may have wanted to say no, the urge to say yes and be there by his side, holding his hand no matter the results, wins her over.

Harry comes back ten minutes later, a bottle of champagne in hand, with his eyes shining bright as if he had already won the award. "Jeff said it's all set. He's going to be our third wheel for the night."

She laughs, knowing very well he loves when Jeff has to be around them without his wife now. Always teasing him, but also very happy for him.

"Pop that open then! Let us celebrate." They walk back into the house, getting glasses, when they hear small steps approaching them.

Atticus is thrilled at hearing the news about Harry performing at the Grammys. He got even more excited when he found out Harry was taking Y/N as his date. Told them that she would be the prettiest on the carpet, Harry had pouted, asking what about him. Only to agree when Atticus said no one's beauty compares to his Mum's.

Harry had asked Glenne to watch over Atticus, and she eagerly accepted. They let Atticus know, and he was over the moon excited. Atticus knew his Auntie Glenne had a hard time saying no to him.

In a different time, if there was no pandemic, Harry knows Atticus and Y/N would have been the perfect dates for what is supposed to be a joyous night.

Grammy day arrived, and Harry walked the red carpet alone.

It's something all three agreed on, not at all wanting to steal any attention when it was such a big debut for Harry. As much as Harry wanted photos with her, he knew this was the way to go; she would be sitting next to him for the rest of the night, which he was thankful for.

Harry felt comfortable and happy in his red carpet look. He was wearing a green and yellow check tweed jacket and a tartan sweater combo worn, flared trousers, and lavender boa. It was a bit different but entirely himself, and that's all he wanted.

As soon as he's done posing for photos, he has his mask back on and is ushered into his changing room to change for his performance happening very soon.

Y/N is waiting in there chatting with Sarah, and when Harry opens the door, he's taken back by her beauty. Yes, he saw her dressed at home, but she seems like a dream here in this new light. Y/N is wearing a lilac satin backless dress, a long slit going up her left leg. She's wearing gold heels that their wonderful friend Harry Lambert acquired for her. The gold primrose signet ring adorned her right-hand ring finger. A few more that she has gifts from her mother and others she bought for herself, but his attention is on the one he gives her because even as she is in a conversation with someone she's fidgeting with, she has the feel of it under her fingers.

"Clear the room, friends," Jeff announces. "Styles here has to get ready. We can start heading to the stage."

Everyone is up and out in a matter of seconds, Jeff shutting the door behind him, telling him he only has fifteen minutes.

More than enough.

"Are you going to help me or just sit there ogling me?"

She smirks. "If I help, there's no saying you'll get clothes on in time."

Harry feels a twitch in his trousers and knows she's right. He huffs, not bothering to argue, just throwing his lavender boa in her direction.

"I'll always accept a striptease."

"I should have had Jeff kick you out as well," Harry says, not meaning a single word.

Y/N pouts. "Not nice, H."

"Baby, please. No more teasing, not really a fan of going on television with a boner, especially in leather." Harry stops her before she can continue on.

"Alright, I'll behave."

Harry breathes a sigh of relief because he's always so close to caving in. She has that effect on him.

Y/N sits there, turned on by Harry changing his outfit. What she wishes she was home instead because watching and not being able to touch is absolute torture.

Harry shimmy himself into the leather pants wanting to get Y/N to laugh, and it works like he knew it would.

"Got a nice ass, Styles. Might have to take it for a ride."

Harry mutters a fuck, and she's giggling. "It's like you hate me."

"On the contrary, I adore you."

"Yeah, well, hand me the jacket, please."

Y/N gets up, the black leather cropped jacket in hand; she stands behind him, guiding him to slip in his left arm, followed by his right. It rests perfectly on his shoulders; she let her hands slide down his arms before turning him around and getting a good look at the completed fit.

She takes a step back as Harry reaches for the mint feathered boa slipping it over his shoulders before dramatically swinging it over his left shoulder. He poses a hand on his hip.

"What's the verdict?" He's biting back a laugh.

"I'm in love. You should ask for my help in designing a look more often." Y/N's gaze has not left his exposed torso. The butterfly fly tattoo starting back at her, Harry's a bit leaner, but he's never looked, fitter. Definitely, feel lucky she can run her fingers over his abs as soon as they get home.

"You recommended no shirt."

"And look how right I was. Your fans are going to go crazy."

"There's only one person I care about going crazy." He steps forward, pressing a kiss to her neck before trailing up to her lips. Leaving soft kisses, not giving her more, and she needs it. She needs him to push her up against a wall and just take her.

"Trust me, baby. I'm showing so must restraint right now. Fuck, you need to walk out now before you're late."

Harry smirks; he likes knowing the effect he has on her. She's the reason he's wearing leather, having confessed thinking he'd look really good. And right she was. "Need a good luck kiss."

Y/N nods, bringing a hand up to rest on the back of his neck, the heels adding a few extra inches making her aligned perfectly with his plump pink lips. She's gentle as she connects their lips; he wraps a hand around her waist before taking control of the kiss, slipping his tongue inside; she lets out a soft moan as he kisses her with all he has. Harry pulls away, a dimpled grin on his face. "Lots of luck in that kiss." a

She nods, still in a daze. "I'll be watching, baby."

Harry and Y/N walk out hand in hand, masks on as they find Jeff, who directs him to the stage entrance, a whispered I love you and a final kiss. He's walking towards the stage, greeting each of his band members lingering a second longer with Sarah.

Y/N was grateful she was allowed to watch the performance from a hidden side stage with Jeff by her side. Those three minutes of Harry singing, she was left in awe as she always is; he's got a way of capturing your full attention. She let out a gasp when Harry threw the boa and turned to have exposed his chest, a broad smile on her face. Jeff was trying to stifle a laugh next to her, and she knew he would be passing this information along.

She felt lucky to be loved by Harry.

As soon as Harry finished performing, Jeff ushered her to his changing room where she could watch the other performances as they waited for Harry to join them once more before going to sit at the socially distanced tables.

Harry came back, a deep smirk on his face, his mint boa now resting on Mitch's neck. "What you think, love?"

"You were wonderful; you and the band just killed it. I felt like it was my first time listening to it. Those note changes were beautiful." She hugs him, happy to have him in her arms again. "Get changed, not much time."

Harry nods, going to the clothes rack but comes back to give Y/N a kiss. She feels herself melt into his touch. She pulls away and sees his green eyes glistening. "Thank you for being here." Before she can respond, he's walked away and changing into his previous outfit.

Harry is dressed, and Jeff ushers them out. Harry leads, greeting people as they walk by, occasionally stopping for someone. Y/N falls behind, smiling at everyone from behind a mask, she laughs, remembering others can't see it, but hopefully, they feel it. She spots a women's restroom and grabs Jeff's arm to get him to stop. He turns concerned. She leans in close, letting him know she's heading to the restroom and will catch up soon.

Y/N is walking out of the restroom heading down the hall when she stops hearing her name called. She turns and finds it's her good friend Julia Michaels.

"Hi darling," Y/N greets a large smile hiding behind her mask. "You look brilliant." Julia was dressed in a black gown adorned with white patterns resembling seashells and her tattoos on full display. Y/N was in awe.

"Thank you! As do you." She says, pulling her in a hug. "Is that a bit of an accent I hear?"

Y/N laughs. "Don't know about that; I've been living in London for years now. Might be that I've been around my British friends constantly."

"That or-"

Julia is interrupted by a man calling her name. Y/N sees it's her boyfriend, JP Saxe.

"Ah, the beau is calling for you, it seems." Y/N teases.

"Oh bummer, I love chatting with you. I would tell you all about him, but I'd expect the same."

"What do you mean?" She feigns confusion, but Julia sees past her.

"Well, who's your date?"

She can feel her face warm, knowing exactly who she's referring to.

"I came with my boyfriend," Y/N answers proudly.

Before Julia can respond, Y/N feels a hand on her back and turns to find Harry behind her. "Calling for us to head to our seats, nominations up next."

"Okay, H." She smiles, knowing there was a look of concern for her hiding behind the mask.

Harry seems to remember she was speaking with someone.

"Hello, Julia, lovely music. This one always plays it around the house." Harry knocks his hip with Y/N's. "Especially this new song that's nominated, she always had it playing. Soon my son was singing it as well. It meant I had to join in. I don't like being the odd one out."

"Thank you, Harry; I'm glad you could all enjoy my music. We've been doing the same. Fine Line is a gorgeous album. Best of luck tonight." Julia tells him sincerely.

"You as well."

"One last thing between us."

"Of course," he nods.

"She's a special one; take real good care of her." Y/N has never been more thankful for a mask because it hides her face that she is slowly starting to heat up.

"I like to think I've been doing a good job, or she wouldn't have stuck around for two years so far."

Julia doesn't hide her shock, her eyes go wide, and Harry just smirks.

Y/N laughs. "We have been good at laying low. Except for this one, he likes to always be doing something new."

"What can I say? I like to keep busy." Harry shrugs, knowing everyone knows about his next film in London.

"Now we definitely have to grab dinner soon or a zoom date, I don't know. I want to hear all about it." Y/N can tell Julia is curious but overall happy for her.

With that, they bid each other goodbye, and Harry escorts her to their seats.

"Someone is very open," Y/N tells him, adjusting her dress as she sits down.

"She's a good friend of yours but also Niall's. I know we can trust her." Harry tells her honestly.

"I see. We'll see how interviews go soon." Y/N knows Jeff had told them he had to do at least one interview if he didn't win, and if he did, it would just be him addressing the virtual press room.

Harry is sitting in the middle, Jeff to his left andY/N to his right. He's never felt as safe when they name the nominees for the category.

Y/N feels the tight grip Harry has on her thigh, and his left hand is rubbing up and down his pants to dry the sweat she can only imagine is building up. She looks up at his face, but he's calm, but she knows him; there's a storm of thoughts running through his head. Y/N knows there isn't much to help ease, but she can remind him she's there for him. She lifts his hand that was resting on her thigh to her lips and gives it a gentle kiss through her mask, yes he can't feel it, but the sentiment is there. She sets his hand back, fingers now intertwined with hers. Y/N knows he's looking at her and meets his gaze reassuring him with his eyes she loves him.

Rachelle Erratchu is opening the envelope, and in the next few seconds, she will announce the winner for the best pop solo performance.

"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"

Harry sits there shocked, his shoulders dropped, eyes wide, not at all able to hide the shock. He just heard his name called; he just won a Grammy.

In the next second, he's standing up, removing his mask, his nervous smile now able to be seen by the camera. Jeff is quick to pull him in a tight hug. Y/N stands feeling the happiness travel through her entire body.

Harry won.

A mask is no longer hiding his smile, and she knows if she removed her, she'd have a matching smile. Harry hugs her tight, her arms going around his waist; she can feel how fast his heart is beating. Harry is not at all ready to let her go but knows he has an acceptance speech to give.

"You did it, H," she whispers, ushering him to head up the stage.

Harry gets up, letting out a deep breath as he hears the applause continue. He picks up the Grammy for a second before setting it back down. He looks out at the audience, and he's just astounded that he's won.

"Wow, um..." Harry takes a deep breath before starting. "To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. This was the first song we wrote after my album came out, during a day off in Nashville. I just wanna say thanks to Tom, Tyler, and Mitch, and everyone, Rob Stringer, everyone at Columbia, my manager Jeffrey who always nudged me to be better and never pushed me and thank you so much, and I feel very grateful to be here." He smiles at Y/N. "Thank you to my son, who has been the light in my life and my biggest fan. Everything I do is for him, and I hope I continue to make him proud. I love you, darling boy." Harry knows he's got only so much time left, but there is one last person to thank. He doesn't address her by name, but everyone in that room knows what he says next is for Y/N as he never takes his eyes off of her.

"Thank you for believing in me. I was not the easiest to deal with when we first met, but you're here and have been every step of the way. Thank you for helping me become a better man each day. I adore you." He chuckles, continuing on, "All these songs are fucking massive, so thank you so much; I feel very honoured to be among you, so thank you so much."

Harry walks off stage, leaving the grammy he had just won behind, eager to have Y/N back in his arms. His eyes are set on her; she's standing arms open, ready for him. He melts into her touch, hiding his head in her neck placing a gentle kiss on her exposed neck. "I love you," he whispers.

Y/N softly cradles his cheek as he leans into her touch, her eyes filling with tears of joy. "I love you, H."

Harry pulls away, letting her take a step back as Jeff hugs him tighter than before. He's so happy he places an affectionate kiss on Jeff's masked cheek.

Harry's happy; he knows he didn't need an award to let him know how talented he was, but it was an honor to have his support team by his side as he did receive the award.

Harry had taken Y/N with him to help change, claiming he needed help. Jeff knew better but let them be.

As soon as Harry ushered them into the changing room, he pushed her up against the locked door, ripped his mask off, shoving it in his pocket, kissing down her neck.

Y/n reaches a shaky hand up to remove her mask, letting it fall in Harry's waiting hand to place next to him.

"Kiss me," she breathes.

Harry, never one to deny her, brings his lips to hers. Y/N felt her whole body tingle as he claimed control over her mouth, hungry and intense as if she'd disappear if he would slow down.

Y/N laughs as her hands rest on his shoulder, letting him kiss all the skin she has exposed.

"Baby, you're a Grammy winner." A hand now in his hair as she feels his lips right above the curve of her breasts.

"Just like you."

"Atticus must be so proud," Y/N says, now lost in thought.

Harry pulls back, "As much as I love our baby, please don't mention him as I'm trying to shag you in my dressing room."

Y/N grins nodding, she pushes the plaid jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor. "Sorry, did you say shag? Is that Grammy fame getting to your head?" She teases

"The only place my head is going is between your thighs." His voice rough, no longer teasing. She can see the lust building in his emerald eyes.

"Guess I'm the real winner," Y/N tells him, pushing up her dress to reveal her black lace panties, Harry's favorites.

"Fuck." Harry trails his hands down her thighs as he sinks to his knees.

Y/N holds her dress up as Harry begins to pull down her panties, letting them fall to her ankles. "Those are too hot to be hidden, baby. Fuck, knowing you had those on the whole time for me has me so hard." He unbuttons his trousers giving himself breathing space.

"Please, baby," Y/N begs, wanting him to give her some kind of release.

"Alright, darling, since we don't have much time."

Y/N has her legs spread open for Harry; her face was flushed, knowing the pleasure Harry would soon bring her. She was wet; she had been since she saw Harry perform in his whole leather outfit; she swears this look will enter her dreams when he's away.

"Love, you're so wet." He smirks, knowing this was for him, but a bit of confirmation never hurt anyone. "All-cause of me?"

"Yes, always wet for you." She breathes out, looking down at him.

Harry leans in, pressing soft kisses on her thigh, getting her to relax, wanting her to enjoy this as much as he's going to. He loves how soft her skin is; he litters kisses as he watches her, still feeling how close he is to where they both want him to be.

Y/N feels like she can't breathe; Harry's teasing always so good but not now. Not when she wants him inside her, but she settles for him eating her out. He's proven more than a dozen times how good he is with his tongue.

"I'm ready, darling. I'm ready to taste you, fuck, you smell amazing, but oh, there's something special about how you taste. Will you let me?" Harry asks, always asking for her consent, never wanting her to feel pressured.

"Yes, please." Harry always knows what she needs; she's happy to relinquish all control to him.

Harry tightened his grips on her thighs, scooting closer. He smiles at how glistening her pussy looks for him. How wet he's made her. He didn't have time for foreplay as much as he wanted to tease her have her withering under his touch. He drove right in, his tongue in between her lips, tasting her sweet juices. It was good, sweet, and just for him.

Y/N let out a moan; Harry wanted more from her; he wanted her a moaning mess. Y/n felt his tongue against her most sensitive spot and felt her knees go weak, fuck; he knew exactly how to bring her the pleasure she seeks.

Harry's eyes were closed, focusing on the noises Y/N was making and savoring the taste.

Y/N has a hand in his hair, her right hand holding up her bunched-up dress. "My winner," she moans out.

"You're always a winner. Fuck, so good." She pants.

"You are….baby" Nothing's making sense. She's lost in her pleasure. Harry was focusing on her clit; he licked at the small peek, knowing she was close.

She pulls harder on his hair, he lets out a moan against her pussy, and it brings her twice the pleasure. "Make me cum, baby." She whines, "Show me exactly why a song about oral sex deserved to win."

Harry, edged on by her words, begins to suck on her clit, letting her feel the ecstasy it brings her. Y/N lost in her pleasure, misses Harry's cursing against her.

"Harry, I'm close." She whimpers out.

"Cum for me, darling." He doesn't slow down, lapping against her pussy, taking everything she gives him. He sucks on her clit, swirling his tongue around as he brings a finger to her hole, gently pushing in, knowing it will drive her over the edge.

"Fuck, you're always a winner. This mouth is always a winner."

Y/N whines out his name, pulling him closer as he licks up all she offered him, letting her ride out her orgasm enjoying every moment. Harry pulls his hand away, setting it on her exposed thigh, drawing small comforting circles, until he's sure she's ridden it through.

She lets out a long sigh as she slides down the door, no longer able to stay standing. Harry grins, guiding her down gently as he sits back on his heels.

"Can I return the favor?" She blinks at him, lust still swimming in her eyes.

Harry blushes but not at all embarrassed. "Watching you cum for me did the job, baby."

She pouts her lips.

"Can treat me to a good time later," he promises; she eagerly nods, already knowing how she'd make him go crazy at him. The taste of him on her tongue later, something to look forward to.

"Think this was the reason you had a third outfit picked." She jokes,

Harry laughs, "Definitely."

Y/N and Harry sit there staring at each other, blissed out in pleasure, taking in the other's smile when a loud knock on the door startles them reminding them where they are.

"When you walk out of here, there better not be a single trace to what you did in there," Jeff tells them.

Harry smirks, "oh Jeffery, who does he take us for?"

Y/N is helped to her feet by Harry, who slips her panties back up her thighs. Y/N walks to the restroom to fix herself while Harry washes his face at the sink provided. Harry is quick to get out of his clothes and into the final outfit of the night. An orange blazer with a white low-cut shirt and plaid pants.

He's ready to step back out and mingle, showing off his girlfriend to everyone who approaches them. Harry stands in front of the mirror looking at the deep red mark on his neck where she left a love bite; he doesn't even remember her giving it to him.

She smirks, seeing him trace his finger over it. Y/N walks up to him, placing the black-feathered boa over his shoulders.

"I could get behind the feathered boas if it means I can leave more kisses like that behind," Y/N tells him as he swings it over his shoulder, adjusting it to hide the mark that would bruise over the next few hours.

"We'll see, love."

Y/N stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress. She smooths her hands over her dress, happy with how she looks. Not at all like she was just given the orgasm of her life. Harry smiles, grateful she was here with him on an important day. He loves her, and he knows she loves him.

"Ready, love?" He stands being her, hand on her waist

She turns her head up to look at him, puckering her lips, waiting for a kiss that Harry happily gives her. "Now, I'm ready."

Y/N and Harry walk hand in hand, masks on.

Harry may not have won any more awards, but he truly felt like he had won it all way before ever hearing his name being called. With a woman like Y/N on his side who was intelligent, beautiful, and independent, constantly pushing him to be a better person every day, there was no way he would ever know what it would be like to lose.

Thank you so much for reading! I adore you. Hopefully, the future allows me to write for Harry, Atticus, and Y/N some more but for now I hope you enjoyed this continued story. <333