#i probably shouldn’t say i had a dream about him tonight?? yeah…

[thoughtfulseason]

watched emily in paris latest season part 2 yesterday (yeah it’s dumb and if they didn’t make her and gabriel get together i wouldn’t have honestly watched it but i saw the carriage scene on instagram) and since the beginning i was rooting for emily and gabriel but

marcello. my god this guy. he’s perfect. with alfie it was meh but now it actually got tough to choose. i still wanna say gabriel but also how could she ever drop marcello? so idk but rn my heart is saying marcello

[steddieas-shegoes]

“any regrets? anything you’d do differently?”

eddie knows the interviewer is just doing her job, probably doesn’t even realize that’s the worst question she could ask. but the guys tense and the air gets thick and something shifts inside eddie’s chest.

“it’s been two years and i still haven’t apologized.”

the interviewer doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to. he’s not gonna explain more than that and he doesn’t care if people make their own connections and excuses.

maybe steve will hear it. maybe robin will. maybe dustin will convince steve to call him.

or maybe he was cryptic for nothing and steve will keep ignoring his calls. he used to think his timing sucked until mike let it slip that he lets all calls go to his answering machine to avoid picking up when eddie calls him.

eddie only calls on bad nights, if he’s drunk or high, or sometimes on the nights that could only be better if steve was by his side. eddie calls most nights.

the interview is done and eddie is being whisked away, getting berated by their publicist about his answer to a question that can never have a good one. the guys are pretending not to listen, but failing. eddie loves them for trying.

the next interview, he stays quiet, at least as much as he can get away with. he fakes a smile, a laugh, whatever it takes to seem like he didn’t just admit that he fucked up on live television.

they get to sleep in their own beds tonight, but tomorrow is the start of their radio show tour to promote their album. it’ll be two weeks long, hitting the major stations daily until they’ve answered all the hard hitting questions like if gareth snores or if they ever find time to eat healthy on tour.

but his bed is his least favorite place to sleep, and no amount of tossing and turning is gonna give him what he needs.

so he calls steve.

“harrington’s house, you’ve reached the harrington who actually lives here.”

eddie’s so shocked that steve answered he barely even registers his words.

“hello?” steve’s voice turns serious. “anyone there?”

“stevie?”

eddie shouldn’t have started with that, but he wasn’t in control of his body anymore.

steve hangs up.

somehow it’s worse than if he hadn’t answered at all.

but eddie is fine. he is.

he’s gonna close his eyes and go to sleep and maybe not dream about dying or fucking up the only good thing he ever had.

his phone rings and he’s almost certain he’s dreaming already.

“hello?”

“sorry i panicked.”

steve’s voice is like a reverb in an arena, sending chills down eddie’s arms.

“you’re not the only one.”

“but…you called me.”

“because you never answer.”

“so why call? if i’m never gonna answer.”

“because if you do answer, i can hear your voice.”

steve sits with that answer for a minute before he speaks.

“dustin played me the interview.”

“yeah.”

“was it me? was i your regret?”

how could steve think that? how could the man who saved his life ever believe he was anything less than a gift? in no universe would eddie regret steve.

“no. my regret is making you ever think that you could be a mistake.”

eddie should end it there, let steve marinate with that. he knows no amount of apologies will actually help, but he could give it a try anyway.

“i’m sorry i left when you needed me. i’m sorry i was selfish and chose to get out and leave you behind. and i’m sorry none of my sorries even matter because it’s too late.”

for a minute—yes, eddie counts— there’s silence. and then there’s a small shuffling sound and eddie’s almost sure that steve’s gonna hang up.

instead, steve sounds like he’s holding back tears when he speaks.

“are you gonna come back?”

eddie can’t. he can’t just put a pause on the band or any of their plans. it’s not fair to the guys or the fans or himself.

but he can do something he should’ve done two years ago.

“will you come with me?”

the question hangs in the air for what feels like forever. steve may say no. that’s part of why eddie didn’t even ask the first time. but he may say-

“yes.”

“you will?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“you stop trying to forget all the bad parts. the bad parts sucked, but they brought us together. running from them means running from me. at least hold my hand so i can run with you.”

eddie thinks maybe he could write a song about that.

and he thinks he’d like to hold steve’s hand while he does.

[roosterforme]

Red Flags, Green Flags | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Hangman complains about his date’s red flags, but Bradley thinks this girl sounds amazing. 

Warnings: Fluff!

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more.

Hangman tossed some darts listlessly at the dartboard and sighed.  "What's your problem, man?" Bradley asked. "You look miserable tonight." "Yeah, you usually get off on beating us at darts. What's wrong?" Phoenix asked.  "I have a girl meeting me here for a second date in a little while," Hangman drawled, sipping his whiskey. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have asked her out again." Payback snorted. "What's wrong with her? She not hot enough for you?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. That was probably the case as each girl Jake dated somehow looked more like a model than the previous one. "Nah, she's real cute," Hangman said, scratching his chin. "She's just giving off some red flags for me. I think I was momentarily blinded by her face when I asked her out again, because she's definitely not my type." "What red flags does she have?" Phoenix asked, taking her turn at darts.  Bradley settled into his seat to listen. This ought to be good. "Well, she's really close with her family. Likes spending time with them," Jake said with a frown. Bradley's brow scrunched up; he thought that sounded pretty nice, actually. "And she volunteers all the time. At the library and the animal shelter and the soup kitchen. She's always so busy, it took forever to even schedule the first date! So I don't see this lasting past tonight," Jake added, finishing his drink. "She sounds pretty good to me," Bradley said cautiously. Actually she sounded really great. "You could always volunteer with her one day, then you'd get to spend some time with her." Jake scoffed. "I'd rather just find a girl who wants to spend her time with me," he said, flashing his charming smile. "This one is finishing graduate school for social work and likes to take her grandma to bingo. Plus, she definitely seems like the kind of girl who would wanna hold hands all the time." He grimaced as he finished.  Bradley just gaped at the other aviator, rendered speechless, because Jake had just described his dream girl. Cute, smart, helpful, loving, independent, and kind. And if she agreed to a second date with Jake, then she was definitely interested in him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" "Oh shit, there she is," Jake grumbled, setting down his glass and heading toward the bar. Bradley stood up and stared as Jake approached a beautiful woman with a stunning smile.   "Is he for real?" Bradley asked Phoenix in a dreamy voice. "She's awesome." "He's an idiot, but we already knew that," Phoenix told him with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to her, Rooster. She's adorable." Bradley shook his head. "I can't, Nat. She's on a date with him!" But the more Bradley watched you and Jake together, it seemed like you weren't really into him either. You were smiling, but it wasn't reaching your eyes, and you had your arms crossed as Jake chatted with you. "Hmmm, fuck it," Bradley muttered as he took a deep breath and headed for the bar.  ---------------------------------------- Jake was nice and attractive, but he wasn't really doing anything for you. And now you were starting to regret agreeing to meet him here. You'd been contemplating calling him all day and canceling for tonight and any future dates, but you ultimately decided to give it one more shot.  But now you weren't paying any attention to him at all, because your eyes just landed on the most handsome man you'd seen in a long time walking up to the bar near where you were standing. He was literally the definition of tall, dark and handsome, and wearing a fun Hawaiian shirt. And he was looking right at you.  You felt yourself smile at him like an idiot when he grinned at you from behind Jake. He had a mustache that somehow made him look cute and playful. You wished he would say something to you. Oh shit, you hadn't heard anything Jake was saying.  You tried to pry your attention away from the newcomer, but then he rested a hand on Jake's shoulder and said, "Hey, Hangman, you gonna introduce me to your new friend?"  His voice! You were biting the inside of your cheek to keep calm, because this man's voice was sexy. Like pillow talk sexy, and making out in a movie theater sexy.  "Uh, sure," Jake replied, looking mildly annoyed. "Y/N, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is Y/N." "That's a pretty name," Rooster told you with a crooked grin, and it took you a second to realize he was talking about you. "Thanks," you replied with a laugh. "Rooster must be your call sign? You're an aviator, too?" "Yeah, my name's Bradley." "Bradley, it's nice to meet you." You liked his name, and his silly call sign. You liked the way he was looking at you and his kind brown eyes.  "Jake didn't get you a drink? That's not very nice, Jake," Bradley said to your date who just shrugged. "I'll get you one. What do you want, Y/N?"  You had to bite your lip before you accidentally replied with 'you'.  "Gin and tonic," you told him, and you watched as he was instantly flagging down a bartender. His huge bicep was flexing below his sleeve as he leaned against the bar and turned toward you. "So, Jake was telling us all about you," he said, and you were surprised once again to find Jake was still in your proximity, because Bradley had your full attention now. "Really?" you asked, eyeing Jake, surprised he would have been telling anyone about you. There wasn't much to tell after the first date. He didn't seem that interested in you, and you hadn't even kissed him goodnight.  "Yeah, he said you're getting a master's degree, and that you like volunteering and hanging out with your grandma," Bradley said, handing your drink to you when it arrived.  "Um, yeah, I do," you said with a blush as Jake smirked at you.  But you turned your attention back to Bradley when he spoke again. "That's cool. I volunteer with Big Brothers and Big Sisters as a youth mentor. And I used to love knitting with my grandma when I was a kid. I'm still pretty good at it, actually." Your jaw was hanging open, and you were having a hard time speaking. Was he for real? You took a sip of your drink and tried to gather your thoughts. Was it okay to ditch Jake and hang out with Bradley instead?  "I volunteer a few times a week, but I always make sure I have time to take my Nana to bingo," you said with a laugh when Bradley smiled at you. "You're really a youth mentor?" "Yeah, last week I took some kids on a hike to the state park beach, and Wednesday evening I'm going to teach them how to bake a cake," he told you before finishing his beer and setting down the bottle. "That's sexy," you said, surprising yourself and Bradley. But you didn't regret saying it. Not one bit. Because Bradley's cheeks flushed pink, and your eyes were drawn to his scars that you were itching to touch.  A startled laugh escaped his lips. "You think so?" "Yeah," you said, nodding your head fervently. Bradley shifted closer to you, and you noticed that Jake was nowhere to be found.  ---------------------------------------

Bradley liked you. A lot. You were absolutely gorgeous to look at, but you were also smart and funny and interesting. The more he asked you about yourself, the more interested he was.  You told him about school and your family and how much you loved going to the beach. And now you were so close to him, you were tracing his watch band with your fingers while you talked.  "I think it's sweet that you used to knit with your grandma. Mine is practically a professional bingo player, she wins almost every week. And she's really cocky about it too," you said, and Bradley laughed. "She is! She likes to gloat about it when she plays shuffleboard." "She sounds fun," he told you. "And just so you know, I'm pretty good at bingo, and grandmas love me." "I'll bet they do." You actually giggled. He was making you giggle. God, he didn't want this night to end. He was trying to think of a way to ask you out, without making it awkward for you or Jake. "So what kind of cake are you baking on Wednesday?" you asked him playfully.  "Not sure yet, but I was thinking about chocolate. You wanna come over and help?" Bradley couldn't explain it, but the idea of you helping him with the baking project had him excited. "You could stay and hang out afterwards. Maybe we could watch a movie together and have some of the cake?" "Are you asking me on a date while I'm technically still on a date with Jake?" you asked him with a grin. "Oh, your date with Jake ended a good thirty minutes ago," he informed you with a very serious look. "Now you're on a first date with me. You having fun?" You started laughing and looked away as your cheeks flushed. "A lot of fun, actually. I like you. You had me at youth mentor and really sealed the deal when you offered to feed me chocolate cake." Bradley couldn't stop smiling. "Can I get your phone number?" "Yes," you replied, and Bradley noticed you and he were standing so close now, your bodies were practically touching.  He watched you type your name and number into his phone as he asked, "You'll come over on Wednesday then? For our second date?" "Yes," you replied, handing his phone back to him with a smirk, but your lips were twitching like you wanted to laugh.  "Since we're going out now, is it cool if I kiss you?" Bradley asked with a smirk of his own. Your lips looked so soft, and Bradley really wanted to touch you.  You smiled up at him and said, "That was pretty smooth," before running your fingers along his scarred neck and up into his hair, pulling him closer.  Bradley leaned down until his lips met yours, and it was the perfect kiss. You were perfect for him. He put his hands around your waist and pulled you a little closer, kissing you a little deeper.  When you pulled back, you pressed your lips together. "Text me your address and I'll be there on Wednesday. For cake baking assistance and our second date." "I will. I can't wait to see you again," Bradley replied, and it was the truth. Bradley walked you to your car, and with one more sweet kiss you were gone. When Bradley went back inside to settle his tab, Jake approached him. "You stole my date," Jake drawled, shaking his head but smiling. Bradley just grinned at Hangman. "It's pretty funny when you think about how she completely ditched you for me. Maybe I'll let you give a speech about it at the wedding."

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

SO FLUFFY! Thanks for reading!

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[dreamwatch]

Looking California, Feeling Indiana

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #28 - Prompt: Back To Indiana | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: chronic illness | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: pre-Steddie, broken dreams, band break up

(I’m laptop-less tonight so hoping typos etc aren’t too bad - I’ll fix them tomorrow 😆)

The logistics of getting home are left to Jeff. They have a van that might get them from California to Indiana, a station wagon that should get them there, but six years worth of possessions and equipment into a van and station wagon doesn’t go. They sell a load of their shit before heading home. It’s not like they need most of it anyway.

It’s a sombre journey, so different to the one they made to Los Angeles six years ago, so full of hope and excitement, one step closer to their dream. They could have stayed and just built lives there, grounded ones, sensible jobs, sensible hours, sensible lives. But Eddie needed to go back, even if it was just for a few months; he’s twenty seven in a few weeks and he feels like a seventy year old. New aches over old hurts, mystery illnesses slowing him down.

(He knows they’re Upside Down related, knows no one can do anything about them, and knows they’re getting worse. He hates knowing things.)

The Welcome To Hawkins sign looks new; Wayne said it still gets vandalised from time to time, a new one in its place the next morning, reckons they’re buying them in bulk.

Jeff drops Eddie off first because Wayne’s waiting around to see him and get his shit inside before he has to get to work. He’s sixty five now. He shouldn’t be working in that fucking plant anymore. How many times did Eddie say one day Wayne, you’ll see. Useless fucking liar.

They hug, they eat, Wayne looks him over with a sigh; he’s too thin, too pale, leaning on that cane a little too heavily. Eddie knows it comes from love but it’s a lot.

Wayne grabs his keys and his lunch box. “Steve called, by the way. Numbers on the fridge.” There’s a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s good to have you home, Bub.”

Bub. Wayne hasn’t called him that in years, and Eddie smiles to himself, surprised at how much he missed it.

He calls Steve, yeah journey was okay, no roads were fine, yeah all settled in. Steve tells him he’s coming to get him, they’re going for dinner, no arguments and he finds he has in fact no intention of arguing.

Steve looks good. He seems broader, hair is longer which thrills Eddie, and the wire rimmed glasses are like a glacé cherry on the cake that is Steve Harrington.

He gets a whistle stop tour of his friend’s lives, Steve so proud of all their achievements. Tells him Hawkins is different now, friendlier, more welcoming. Happier.

They pick at fries, Steve pushing his pickles to the side of the plate for Eddie. Eddie does his best to hide his smile.

“How are you? You look…”

“‘Tired and too thin’ according to my dear, beloved uncle.”

“I was going to say ‘good’, actually, asshole.”

He grabs a fry from Steve’s plate, drags it through Steve’s milkshake. “Don’t lie to me, Steven.”

“Wayne told me, about your health, the band splitting up. I’m really sorry, man. That fucking blows.”

“Thanks,” he says with a wan smile. “It does indeed blow.”

“You know you probably just need some rest. Give it six months, and you’ll all be back in LA, tearing the place up. You were so close, man.”

He snorts, a humourless laugh. “Yeah, not so much actually.”

Steve leans back in the booth, arm hooked over the back

“Bullshit. You had label guys there just a couple of months ago, and it’s slow, remember you said yourself, it takes time, you don’t just get signed overnight.”

“Steve,” and he says it gently, because Steve means well, and he’s supported them, financially at times, when he was too embarrassed to call Wayne. Steve would send a check or wire him money. And even thinking about that makes this so much harder. 

“There was no label guy. There’s never been a label guy. Or girl, for that matter.”

Steve frowns at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”

And this is it, isn’t it? This is the moment he has to release it into the world.

“I’m going to tell you something nobody else knows. Not even Wayne.”

Steve leans forward, arms crossed on the table. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“We failed, Steve. We failed. The last gig we played was about nine months ago, some frat house party Gareth found for us. It was shit. Because we were shit.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, Steve. We didn’t have a hope in fucking hell. Do you know how many bands there are in LA? How few of those ever get a sniff of a record deal.” He shrugs, casual. The sting from the hurt doesn’t burn quite as much as it used to. “We just weren’t good enough, that’s all.”

Eddie watches as the cogs in Steve’s head turn, trying to lock into place. “But your health…”

“Is not great. I didn’t lie about that. But, I leant into it. It’s easier to blame a bum leg and chest infections than admit you’ll never achieve your dream because you’re not talented enough and you’re fucking delusional.”

“You are talented,”

“We’re not. Or, not enough, anyway.”

“What are you gonna do? What are they gonna do?” 

“Wayne’s trying to find me work at the plant. Jeff is talking about community college. Matt will probably go work for his dad. Gareth’s probably going to go to Indy, find a band there. Good luck to him.”

Steve drives him home, actual home now, not that dirty little apartment in LA, but a place where he’ll always be wanted. Will always be good enough. 

They pull up outside the trailer, and Steve reaches over, grabbing Eddie’s hand. It’s clumsy and awkward, but the intent is clear. Trying to pick things up where they left them.

“It’s good to have you home, man.”

“It’s good to be home.”

He’s surprised to find he means it.

[bokutooooo]

Dream Ride PT 4 ᰔᩚ

warnings: strong language! violence (very little)

The drive was quiet, I’m not sure why but I was trying to avoid starting any conversation. “You gonna buy a new car soon? Since you finished the last one”

I let out a small laugh “I just finished Nissan Skyline GT-R, don’t get me wrong I liked working on it but that was a lot.” he just smiled and went back to looking at the road. Tonight was pretty quiet in the city, well quiet for Tokyo at least.

We pulled up to the convenience store Sean and Neela arriving a minute later.

“I think I’m just gonna get a Gatorade and some chips, what about you” Neela and I were just walking up and down some aisles while Sean and Han waited outside. “I’m not sure, kind of craving a slushy right now, or a Redbull I need to study tonight and I definitely don’t have the energy for it” we were walking to the cash register when DK and Morimoto stopped stopped in front of us.

“Y/n! my favourite slut. Who are you screwing now?” Me and Morimoto hooked up here and there for a few months but after I cut things off he got upset and now I guess I’m a slut for it. “Oh shut up Morimoto you’re just mad she stopped seeing you, get over it” it never really felt good being called a slut by the guy you used to be friends with never mind fuck. “Neela where’ve you been? You were supposed to come over tonight.”well shit, they probably saw Sean out front but I’m hoping they didn’t.

“Change of plans me and Y/n are hanging out” DK was annoying but not stupid he knows Neela and Sean are “hanging out”. “Just leave us alone DK we’re just grabbing snacks than leaving” I don’t even know why I bothered asking, why would he listen to me “this has nothing to do with you Y/n, why don’t you go screw Han”.

Great “oh? Han? that’s new don’t you think he’s a bit old for you? Or is that just the daddy issues.” I haven’t intended to tell Morimoto about my family problems but a couple of times I had went over upset about it and told him some things I obviously shouldn’t have.”Fuck you Mori” I shoved through them pulling Neela with me to the cash trying to check out as quick as possible. “Where you going huh? Why don’t you come over” I just wanted to leave.

we were speed walking down the street to where Han and Sean were parked, Morimoto and DK following close behind “Fuck off Mori! go home!” I could see Han’s back. God I wanted Han to beat the shit out of him.

“Oh come on! Don’t you wanna come home with me” I could just hear the grin on Morimoto face. Han must’ve heard the shouting because he was quick to turn around Sean closely behind and heading straight for Morimoto.

“What happened!? Are you alright?!” Why couldn’t they just leave us alone, we wanted nothing to do with them. “They’re just being assholes! Won’t leave us alone.”

“Alright just go in the car, we’ll talk to them” even though Neela came with Sean, I pulled her into the backseat of Han’s car and patiently waited for him to tell us they were gone.

HAN’s POV

“Fuck off Morimoto, nobody wants any problems so why start them.”

“Just curious.. are you fuckin’ er? Just so you know she’s slept with all of Tokyo, have fun with your sloppy seconds.”

god what a fucking prick. “Fuck off Morimoto go home, and not that it’s any of your business but I’m not sleeping with her. Now go home”

I turn around and walk to the car, I mean who does the is asshole think he is.

“Hey you guys alright? Sorry you had to deal with those two.” Y/n and Neela were sitting in the backseat obviously scared “Yeah we’re fine, he’s just such a dick we were just buying snacks when they randomly showed up and started following us around.” I felt bad, Y/n didn’t deserve this bullshit Morimoto was just a dick.

Y/N’s POV

Han was driving me home, I’m sure he could tell I was tired and upset “Sorry about tonight, don’t let the shit Morimoto says get to you”

“Yeah for sure” I know it’s not Han’s fault but I’m just so angry and frustrated right now I can’t even think. Luckily we stop in front of my house and I’m quick to get out “Thanks for the ride Han, see you later”

“Wait Y/n! Are you sure you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?” I sighed “I’m fine just tired trust me, have a goodnight.”

SORRH FOR THE LATE POST I TRIED TO MAKE IT AS LONG AS I COULD. Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to DM me suggestions or requests!

[karmic-vibes]

The Doctor Nurse is In

one-shot inspired by this prompt, ft steve w glasses. enjoy.

cw: drug and alcohol use, vomit/general symptoms of being hungover

wc: 1.9k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

———————————————————————

Steve had dreamed of being a nurse for as long as he could remember. Growing up, he’d tell everyone who would listen about his aspirations, and people always told him to dream bigger. 

“A smart, handsome man like you shouldn’t be a nurse. Try for doctor!”

“Have you considered getting a Ph.D instead?”

“Why nurse? It’s a job for chicks!”

Regardless of what he was told, he never listened. He stuck to his hopes and dreams, committed to four years of undergrad, and was now finishing up his clinicals.

During his rotations, he fell in love with emergency medicine, despite initially wanting to go into neurology.

Now, here he was. A fresh grad, finishing up clinicals before officially going for his R.N., and suffering through a rotating schedule, landing him doubles every other weekend.

In terms of Indiana hospitals, Hawkins Memorial was the best-of-the-best. People were shipped in from all over the state to be treated by their staff in all departments. It didn’t help that they were the only trauma hospital for miles, meaning all the chaos that went down in Indianapolis on the weekends got shipped up to them.

As Steve sat at the intake desk, completing some unfinished reports from the first half of the shift, dreaming of none other than his bed and pillow, he heard the 800-EMS radio go off. He slightly turned his head, paying half attention to it—another drunk was on their way in. He rolled his eyes, pushed his glasses further up on his nose, before resting his chin in his hand.

He began to doze off mid-report before Dr. Nancy Wheeler ran over to him, urging him into the trauma room. Steve shot up, stumbled out of his seat, and followed her down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“You know that band that was performing at the Dome tonight?”

“I don’t necessarily know who they are, but yeah, I know there was a performance tonight. Why?”

“Well…” She slid open the door to find a half-conscious rockstar on the stretcher. “He’s out of his mind on god-knows-what and his agent was saying how he bit a bat during his performance.”

“What‽”

“Mhmm.”

“I… what?”

“Mmm…” The patient groaned, slowly stirring awake.

“We pushed twenty of narcan, so he’s slowly coming to.”

“You seem to have this covered… why do you need me?”

“Well, you’re babysitting him until he wakes up. Make sure he doesn’t choke on vomit or stop breathing or anything like that.”

“Uh… okay…”

“And I wanted to further prove your theory of only drunkards coming in on the weekends,” Dr. Wheeler smirked. “Call me if you need me. Security will be right outside the door. Let me know when he wakes up.”

“Can I at least go get my reports I need to finish?”

“I’ll have Joyce drop them off on her next set of vital rounds.”

“That’s not for another hour!” Steve whined.

“Watch him, Harrington. That’s an order.”

“Yes, doc,” Steve sighed, sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair. He leaned over to glance at the patient’s bracelet. “Edward J. Munson. Well, Edward, we’re about to be buddy-buddy for the next seven hours,” Steve muttered to himself.

Steve sat back, watching the saline slowly drip in the chamber. He occasionally counted Eddie’s breaths by watching his chest rise and fall—god, he hated babysitting duty.

During Joyce’s next vitals round, she handed Steve his bundle of paperwork. He clicked his pen and continued where he left off. Joyce raised a brow at Steve before directing her attention to Edward.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“He’s fine—just drunk and probably high,” Steve mumbled, glaring at his papers. “Do you have the last set of vitals for room three?”

“Yeah, here.” She handed her notebook over to the boy.

“Thanks, Joycie, you’re my savior.”

“Hmm, I’m sure I am, Stevie,” she teased.

“How’s Will? Doing okay in school?” Steve asked, trying to make polite conversation.

“Yeah, he’s doing fine. Struggling a bit with making new friends.”

“Why? He’s such a sweet kid.”

“People keep teasing him, saying he’s gay, and ugh, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sorry, Joyce… that can’t be easy on him.”

“It’s okay. He’s a strong boy, he’ll make his way through it.” She sighed before taking Edward’s blood pressure. “Ready for his vitals?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve clicked his pen.

“Heart rate is one-twenty, blood pressure is one-ten over seventy-two, and respirations are–”

“Twelve, I know that one. Thanks, Joyce. I hope things get better with Will.”

“You and me both, sweetie. See you in two hours.”

“See ya.”

Steve poured his attention back into his mountain of paperwork for another hour or so before he heard Edward stir in his bed. He slowly blinked before muttering complete nonsense to himself.

“Morning, sunshine,” Steve said, scribbling down the time he woke up. He slid open the trauma room door and leaned against the doorframe. “Can you get Dr. Wheeler down here, please?” he asked the security guard.

“On it,” he said.

“Yer cute,” Edward chortled. He tilted his head, making it glaringly obvious he was checking out Steve’s ass in his scrubs.

“Mr. Munson–”

“Uck, so formal. Call m’Eddie,” he mumbled.

“Eddie, how’re you feeling?” Steve walked over and took his pulse.

“Better now th’I have a cute doctor to look at.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“A nurse! Even better,” he chuckled.

“So, Eddie, do you remember what happened tonight?”

“Hehe,” he giggled to himself.

“Eddie?”

“I did some stuff.”

“What stuff?” Steve sighed in frustration.

“Drank some beer, did some drugs.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“No judgement. What’d you take?”

“I dunno, dude,” he whined. “Will you go out with me?”

“No.”

“C’mon, cutie, go out w’me.”

“Sorry, I don’t go out with people who have rabies. It’s my best friend’s number one fear.”

“I have rabies…” Eddie‘s jaw dropped, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. His pupils were still blown from whatever he took, and his eyes were glossed over.

“No, you don’t have rabies,” Dr. Wheeler said.

“Maybe, we’re still running some tests,” Steve added.

“You probably don’t have rabies,” she corrected. “Mr. Munson, I’m Dr. Nancy Wheeler, I’ll be your physician for the evening.”

“Why’s everyone so goddamn formal,” he scoffed. “‘m Eddie, pretty lady!”

“Yeah, you have fun with him, Stevie. Thanks for letting me know he’s awake. Let me know if anything else major happens.”

“Wait, I’m still stuck watching him‽”

“Yes, you are. Call me if anything changes.”

“Ugh,” Steve huffed, running his hands through his hair.

“You’re so mean, Steeevie,” Eddie snickered. Steve rolled his eyes before returning to his seat. “‘s okay, jokes on you, I’m very much attracted to evil.”

“I’m not evil,” Steve said.

“Whatever y’say, big boy.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y’hear me,” Eddie hiccuped. “So why won’t you go out with me?”

“I already told you.”

“But why,” Eddie whined.

“One, you’re not sober. Two, you probably have rabies. Three, you’re my patient. It’s not happening.” Eddie started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Y’never said that ‘m not your type.”

“I… what?”

“I’m your type,” he teased.

“Please,” Steve scoffed, pink tinting his cheeks. “You have no idea what my type even is.”

“Yeah, I do. ‘s me.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed contently.

Steve ignored Eddie laughing to himself and went back to his paperwork. Eddie was moved to a regular E.R. treatment room shortly after, still needing Steve to babysit him. Around five in the morning, Steve managed to get all caught up on his patient care reports, and Eddie was in a deep sleep. He just had to ride out the last two dreadful hours of his shift.

Right around six, Eddie started to stir awake, moaning and groaning for something to throw up into. Steve rushed to hand him the basin on his bedside table. As Eddie spewed his insides into the pale pink bucket, Steve grabbed onto his hair, pulling it back into a bun.

“Thanks,” Eddie whimpered, spitting out some bile.

“No problem,” Steve said.

Eddie went back to heaving as Steve gently rubbed his back, trying desperately to soothe him. After five never-ending minutes, Eddie flopped onto his back, heaving, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“You okay?” Steve whispered, dampening a washcloth.

“Mm, been better,” Eddie groaned.

“C’mere.”

Steve gently held his chin in his hands as he cleaned up the vomit from the rockstar’s face. Eddie faintly smiled at him as a silent token of gratitude.

“Thanks…”

“Mhmm.”

Steve picked up the basin and threw it into the biohazard bin before removing his gloves and washing his hands. He ripped a few paper towels from the machine and leaned onto the counter.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Mm, I’m sure. Wanna tell me what you took last night?”

“Lord, I dunno. Some coke, some molly, and a joint… maybe two.”

“Fun night?”

“You could say that,” Eddie smirked.

“Do you know if the weed was laced with anything?”

“I know one had traces of fent or morphine. I dunno which one.”

“That explains why the narcan worked,” Steve sighed. “And to drink?”

“Dude, I dunno, I lost count. A lot.”

“And the bat?”

“That what?” Eddie mumbled.

“People said you bit into a bat.”

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“The doctor I work under and your manager-agent person.”

“No, I didn’t bite into a fucking bat. I’m sure I said I did, but I was so high, nothing I was saying was true.”

“Gotcha…”

Steve took a deep sigh as the words rang in his ears.

Nothing I was saying was true.

Did he not think Steve was cute? Did he not want to go out with Steve? Sure, Steve shot him down each time, but for once—since high school—someone found him desirable. He felt wanted.

Eddie quickly pulled Steve out of his thoughts by snapping and waving in his face.

“Hello?” Eddie raised a brow. “Earth to Stevie?”

“Yeah, sorry, what?”

“Nothing, you just zoned. Can I get some water?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. You want ice too?”

“Ice would be nice,” he smiled.

“I’ll be right back.”

Steve finished out his shift, handed care of Eddie over to the next person doing their clinical rotation and went home to his sweet, sweet bed. Two days later, he was back in the hospital for his next set of shifts—this time, however, they were during the week and during the day.

He had never been more relieved.

No more drunkards. No more babysitting. No more Eddie.

When his shift ended that fateful Wednesday night, he made his way out to his car to find a familiar face leaning against the driver’s side door, puffing away at a cigarette.

“Hey!” He cheered, throwing his cigarette to the asphalt.

“Uh… hi? Wh-What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“I wanted to apologize and say thanks… y’know, for Sunday night.”

“Oh, it was no problem. Literally just my job.” Steve nodded and stuck his hands in his scrub pockets.

“Can I buy you a drink? Just as a thank you—i-it doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“Y’know, a drink right now sounds lovely. Lead the way, Munson.”

“My pleasure, big boy.” Steve froze in his tracks, staring blankly at Eddie. “Don’t think I forgot everything from last night, Stevie.” He winked before opening the passenger door to his jet-black corvette for Steve. “After you, cutie.”

———————————————————————

taglist: @steviesbicrisis

a/n: may make a part two. not too sure yet. anyways, hope y’all enjoyed!

[buckysgrace]

Sixty

Dancing in the Dark Masterlist

Valentine’s Day rolled around quickly, leaving Billy nervous as he kept thinking over his plans for the day. He’d never really done anything fancy for the stupid holiday. They were usually cheap dates and quick fucks. Nothing special. Not until now. 

He was stressed about it. He didn’t know how he was going to make it special for her. She couldn’t keep her nose out of cheesy romance novels, fawned over passionate movies and had a whole journal dedicated to her dream wedding. He was sure that he was fucked. She probably had the perfect day planned out and he had no idea about any of it. 

“Hey,” Billy hesitated as he leaned against the doorway, watching as Rosemary finished sweeping up the front of the store, “I was going to take Kim out tonight. I mean I am. I got us a hotel room too.” He said slowly, unsure of why he was so nervous to ask her. 

This morning had been busy, a lot busier than what he was used to. Mostly men, coming in to do some last minute cake shopping. Billy was very happy that he had ordered things ahead of time. He didn’t want to be bustling around last second. 

When he’d arrived this morning he had noticed a little set up on his counter. There was one red rose, a bag of handmade peanut butter pretzels and a square crocheted heart pattern. She was too sweet for her own good. He was fearing his gestures wouldn't come close to hers. 

Rosemary had wished him a happy Valentine’s Day that morning as well and thus far the only other card that he’d received had been from Cindy. It was store bought and her number was scribbled in neatly at the bottom. She was even so kind to say she wished the best for Kim. He tossed it immediately. 

“Oh that will be fun,” Rosemary smiled as she sat up, leaning against the broom for a second, “Sam and I are going out too.” She said excitedly, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought about it. He paused, sure that this meant that him and Kim wouldn’t be able to go. 

“Sorry,” He apologized, “I didn’t know. Do you need us to watch Russell?” He asked seriously, thinking about how often he had to cancel dates because Neil and Susan went out. He hated playing the babysitter part, but he’d do it after all the stress he’d put them through recently. 

“Well,” She paused, “I already got someone to watch him.” She said with a nod of her head. He tilted his chin in confusion, noticing the way she was holding something back. It was curious. 

“Who?” Billy asked, laughing as he thought about it, “It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m sure only weirdos and losers are out.” He stated, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought about what poor person got stuck watching Russell. Then again, Russell would probably be the one stuck with some lame person. 

“Funny,” She replied dryly, “Your friend Tommy actually agreed to it. He said he had nothing better to do and could use the cash.” She smirked a little bit as she rested her hand on her hip, looking quite proud. Billy snorted, sure that Tommy was doing this to get on Rosemary’s good side. It was sickening. 

“That asshole just doesn’t want to babysit Jennifer,” He said quickly as he shook his head, “And Tommy is a terrible influence.” He pointed out, unsure if it was a good thing or not to leave him alone with Russell. Tommy was odd in his own way.

“Well, like you said,” Rosemary replied with a grin, “The only ones left were losers and weirdos. Besides, at least Tommy can keep Russell entertained.” She said as she nodded her head, looking quite pleased with her answer still. He supposed that she was right. Tommy wasn’t that hard to entertain. Sometimes. 

“He’ll probably lock him outside,” Billy mumbled before he shook his head, “So is that fine with you then?” He rubbed the back of his neck, still expecting her to laugh in his face. Neil would’ve told him that it was stupid. That he shouldn’t spend so much time fussing over a girl on top of a lot of other things. 

“Yeah,” She nodded her head, “I just want to know when you guys get there, for safety reasons. Call the house, please let someone know.” She said seriously, pointing the end of the broom at him to tell him that she meant business. 

“We will,” He nodded his head, “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He said seriously, watching as she threw the dirt from the pail away. She put the broom away, then paused as she turned towards him again. 

“You two have fun,” She said with a big smile, “And Billy?” She said a second later, making him stop his movements as he headed towards the back of the kitchen. He needed to get ready to leave, to ensure that he got the rest of his stuff picked up in time. 

“Hm?” He asked, resting his hands on his hips as he waited for whatever she had to say. 

“Buy a box of condoms,” She said, shaking her head as he felt his face suddenly burn, “Or by next Thanksgiving you’ll have to deal with Susan and a crying baby.” She mocked a serious expression, nodding her head and making him think about how true that was. No babies in his immediate future.

“I’ll remember that,” He told her seriously as he nodded his head, trying to ignore how his face continued to heat up, “Thank you. I’ll see you at home.” He nodded his head, grumbling underneath his breath as he ducked his head towards the exit. He continued to mumble, all the way until he was in the safety of his car. 

He had most of her gifts already picked up and hidden within his room. He was hoping that she wouldn’t be nosey enough to search through while he was gone. The only thing he really needed to pick up today was the flowers. He had thought that flowers would be very important to her. 

He felt awkward shuffling them into his car, even more awkward when he carefully pulled them free and carried them up towards the house. He shuffled around for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say once he entered.

“Are those for me?” Russell mocked as he greeted him at the door, still wearing his backpack on his shoulders, “You shouldn’t have.” He said sweetly as he held his hand over his chest, making Billy roll his eyes in exasperation.

“What about you?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows, looking at Russell curiously, “Did uh, any assholes give you any cards today?” He pondered for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask him. He wondered if there were any girls that liked Russell and how he got around that whole situation. 

“Shut up.” Russell responded with a burning face, his cheeks lighting up so brightly that he could put Kim to shame. Amusement struck him as he realized that there must be some truth to it. 

“Wait,” Billy laughed as he started to follow behind him, “It sounds like someone did.” He said a little more seriously, wanting to know what little punk was messing with his little brother. Russell walked a little faster, almost toppling into Pearl who had jumped out. 

“Go away!” He protested, his face still burning brightly as he slammed his bedroom door shut. Billy paused outside, rattling the doorknob for a moment as he decided that he’d get the information out of Russell later.

He paused as he held onto the flowers, wondering how the best way to approach her would be. He didn’t want to just throw them at her, but he wasn’t sure if he’d have time to set anything fancy up for her. 

“She’s in her room,” Sam said as he looked over the bouquet of flowers from his doorway, “She’s going to like those.” He continued on with a large smile, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Billy didn’t know how to handle that. 

“Thanks,” He mumbled, “I appreciate it.” He nodded, raising his free hand up towards him as he turned away. He headed into his room, trying to gain sense of what to say. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to give her the presents now, but he didn’t want to do it at the restaurant either. 

He gathered up the rest of his things, organizing them neatly in the little basket he’d found. He wondered suddenly if he should’ve added more color, made it a little brighter. He was suddenly worried, hoping that she would like it.

He knocked outside of her door, feeling nervous as he glanced down at Pearl who had settled herself on top of his foot. She looked up at him with her different colored eyes, a hint of mischief in them like she was planning on tripping him.

“Come on!” Kim shouted kindly from inside, her voice soft and smooth as he slowly twisted the door open. Her curtains were spread far apart, her windows open as she invited in the bright sun and calm breeze. She was stretched out on her stomach, the pages of her book pressed between her fingers as her ankles crossed in the air. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He spoke up, grinning as he walked into the room. He held onto the stuff awkwardly, not quite sure where to put everything. She gasped as she quickly stood up, her dress rising over her thighs as she rushed towards him. Her eyes were wide, completely taken aback. 

He felt his smile grow as he watched her quickly analyze everything, her cheeks turning pink as she slowly pressed the presents in her hands. She put the gift basket down, staring at the bouquet in wonder. 

“Billy,” She gasped as she looked over the carnations, “You didn’t have to get me this many. Oh my goodness, these are beautiful. And chocolate! Thank you.” She said as she looked at the little heart box that was looped around the stems. She bounced on the tips of her toes, seemingly overjoyed as he felt this heart hammering in his chest. 

“Of course I did,” He said with a grin, watching the way her eyes flashed in joy, “You deserve all of the flowers.” He said as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. He paused for a moment before he took the flowers again, gesturing towards the rest of her presents.

She plopped down at the edge of the bed, pulling free some of the little heart decorations he’d found. Okay, that Russell had found. He had been a fairly big help in making sure that Billy didn’t make it look completely ugly. 

“Oh my God!” She exclaimed as she held the stuffed cow up, “It’s huge! Where did you find him?” She asked seriously as she tugged it into her arms. It was indeed huge, at least the side of half of her body. The cow was white with brown heart shaped spots, as well as heart shaped antenna. Pearl hopped up on her lap, sniffling it curiously. 

“That’s a secret,” He said playfully, amused by how entertained she was, “Do you like everything?” He watched as she continued to pull out little bags of candy, some rolls of yarn and a few mystery novels he’d found. Alma had mentioned throwing in a sketchbook, which he had done. Kim had a little bit of everything, just like Christmas. 

“I love them,” She said, smiling brightly as she examined the earrings, “I was going to give you yours later, but now s’fine.” She said as she placed her things aside gently, then came forth with a large pink basket. There were a few red balloons attached to it, shaped into hearts. She had definitely gone all out with the little heart decorations and glitter. Oh well. It was sweet. 

Inside of his basket held a shirt, a navy blue buttoned up with various stripes going down the front of it. Inside was also what seemed to be a mixtape, a red crocheted hat, a new copy of Cold Moon Over Babylon and a new set of gold earrings. They were little hoops, making him grin as he looked over at them. 

“What’s this?” He asked as he held up a little hard. It was handmade, cut from pink sheets of construction paper. She had clearly used some sort of white material to make the lace part of it as well. His name was written in large cursive, soft. He could tell it was her handwriting by the way she curved her y. 

“It’s nothing,” She said, face burning as she tucked her hair behind her ears, “It’s just-, you know. It’s just a little poem. In the card.” She said bashfully as she clasped her hands together, then distracted herself by threading her fingers through Pearl’s soft fur. 

“You wrote it?” He grinned, watching as she nodded her head, “So I have an original Kim Mayfield?” He teased her, but fully meant it. Her poem was sweet, cute. And very cheesy. But it was personal. It was clearly about him. He’d never been compared to the sun before, but he sort of liked it. He’d have to put it up. 

“Stop,” She said as she held her hands up to her bright red face, “It’s embarrassing. I didn’t know if you’d really like it or not.” She whispered shyly, looking like she was seconds from crawling underneath the bed. He shook his head in disbelief. It was all perfect. He couldn’t ask for more from her. 

“I love it,” He told her seriously as he kissed the side of her cheek again, “And I really love these peanut butter clusters. Thank you.” He added, watching the way she flushed all over again. She paused as she pulled one of the boxes of candy free from her basket. 

“These are so good,” She said, eating candy heart after candy heart, “Do you want one?” She asked, offering him a red one. He quickly shook his head. Those were definitely all sugar. He didn’t need that, too sweet for his teeth. 

“No thank you,” He told her softly, “What are you going to wear? I have big plans for tonight.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his way into the crook of her neck. She held onto him, brushing her fingers through his curls softly. He sighed deeply, enjoying the sensation. 

“You do?” She asked brightly, “Like what?” She asked, giggling softly as he began to pepper kisses against the sensitive spot on her neck. He rubbed his fingers across the side of her waist, rubbing her skin gently. 

“Some of it is a surprise,” He said with a smile, “But we’re going out. And I rented a hotel.” He sighed, inhaling the scent of cherries against her skin. He wondered how she always managed to smell so sweet, just a little tart. He liked that. 

“Did our parents mind?” She asked softly as she leaned her cheek against the top of his head. He supposed he should move away, but he liked the feeling of her skin against his own. It was comforting. “Mom didn’t,” He told her truthfully, leaving out the conversation about Rosemary’s suggestion. Perhaps he’d tease her about it later, but not right yet, “It will be fun. Come on.” 

//////////////////////////////////////////

“Here’s the money for the pizza,” Sam said as he pulled cash out, waving it towards Russell before he set it down on the counter, “And the number of the restaurant if you guys need us.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows together as he pushed his glasses up his nose again. He was dressed nicely, but Rosemary kept going behind him to tuck his shirt back into his pants. 

“Got it.” Russell responded as he continued to work on the Lego set he was building. It was supposedly a king’s castle. For whatever reason, it held his interest.

They’d all spent turns talking to Max on the phone, wishing her a Happy Birthday despite her being clearly annoyed. They had somehow managed to gather around the phone, all of them singing into it. He could practically feel her anger and embarrassment seeping through the line. It was funny. 

“We can get a picture of you,” Kim said quickly, “You both look cute. It would be nice.” Billy turned towards her, admiring her all over again. Her dress was a little older, perhaps from the fifties. It was white, with little red polka dots covered across it. It was tighter around her waist, then fluffed out towards her knees where it ended. Her shoulders were exposed and there were three different sections across the dress which held a red bow and ribbon. Her hair was in thick curls, framed out of her face. 

“Oh, sure,” Rosemary said brightly, “Get over here, Sam.” She said happily as she pulled Sam forward. Her dress ended at her feet, had small straps and was covered in different floral patterns. 

“Oh, joy,” Sam said as he looped his arm around her waist, “I hope you’re getting my good side.” He said playfully as he turned towards Billy. He shook his head, holding up the camera so he could get a good picture of the two of them. 

“Ha,” He responded dryly, “There you go.” He replied as he pulled it free, giving it a good shake before handing it towards them. Sam took it, grinning as he showed it off towards Rosemary. 

“Russell,” Rosemary snapped her fingers towards him, gaining his attention instantly, “Make sure you get a picture of Kim and Billy before they leave.” She said, nodding her head as Russell’s nose curled up in annoyance. 

“Okay, okay,” He said quickly, “I won’t forget!” He shouted as he waved his little Lego man around. Billy shook his head, watching as Sam and Rosemary began to head towards the door. 

“Good,” She said as she kissed the top of his head, then made her rounds towards Kim and Billy, “Everyone be safe. Call us when you get to the hotel.” She said sternly, pointing towards the two of them so they wouldn’t forget. 

“We will,” Kim replied with a smile, “We promise.” She nodded her head as she turned to look at Billy, the curve of her lips growing as he pulled her closer. He was pretty crazy about her. 

“Have fun,” Sam said as he walked out after Rosemary, “But not too much fun!” He said, laughing as he sent them both a wink. Kim flushed, almost matching the red on her dress as Billy rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“Gross.” Russell spoke up as he wrinkled his lips up in disgust. He shivered, looking like he might vomit before he turned back to his Legos. 

“We better go,” Billy said quickly, determined to not be late, “I made dinner reservations.” He told her for the first time, grinning as he revealed the news. It would be special, not some ordinary restaurant. He supposed they could go somewhere fancy for once. 

“What?” She turned towards him quickly, her eyebrows furrowing together as she parted her lips in confusion. He stalled for just a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her seriously, hoping that he hadn’t done something wrong. She paused as she bit down on her glossed lips, then smoothed her hands over the puffy part of her dress. 

“I made dinner reservations,” She said, smiling sheepishly, “Where did you set it up at?” She asked, making him laugh as he realized they hadn’t planned this very well. It was better to be over prepared, than not at all. 

“This pasta place,” He said as he kissed her nose, “What about you?” He mused as he held onto her, flattered that she had thought so strongly about this as well. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“A steakhouse,” She giggled softly, “I figured you’d like that.” She shrugged her shoulders, her cheeks forming a slight pink color as she fretted with the ends of her curls. 

“Well what sounds better?” He asked her a second later, wondering what she would prefer to eat. It should be something they agreed on, but she was certainly the pickier one. 

“I’m okay with whatever.” She said gently, smiling like she meant it. He scoffed softly, really not wanting to be the one to decide this time. He wanted to go wherever she wanted to go. 

“Kim.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for it?” She asked as she turned towards him, her eyes flashing in amusement as she laid her suggestion out. He thought about it for a moment, deciding it was the one way she’d pick it out. He wondered if he should move his hands a little slower, just to make her purposely win. 

“Fine,” He said as he held his hand up, “You ready?” She nodded her head, confirming her answer as they began to tap their fists against their palms. 

“Ha,” She said as she looked up with a grin, “You win. Pasta it is.” She said as she let his palm cover her fist. He shook his head, deciding that it was fair after all. 

Russell took their picture and they waited just a little bit longer until Tommy appeared. It was a little harder trying to get out of the house after that, as he apparently had much he wanted to talk about. Billy, at the moment, really didn’t care. 

The car ride there was pleasant as he kept the music a little lower, choosing to listen to her ramble about her school projects instead. He liked listening to her talk about school, and liked hearing about how smart she was. Sometimes he wished he could pick apart her mind and study it. Gently. He’d never want to harm her. 

“Here we are,” He said as he held the door open for her, smiling as she stuck her feet out towards him, “Don’t kick me now.” He teased her, watching the way her shoes almost struck him. They had a slight heel to them, leaving them the same height. 

“I wouldn’t do it on purpose,” She protested with a hint of a smile, “Purely accidental.” She promised him as she took his hand, letting him pull her forward. She grinned, holding his hand tightly as they moved across the street. 

“I’m sure,” He said as he held onto her waist, looking at how busy it was inside, “You’re clumsy sometimes, you know that?” He reminded her, feeling like he should keep her in bubble wrap sometimes. It was alright. Just another thing to love her for. 

“You may have mentioned that before,” She said with a smile, slotting up towards him as another couple slid in behind them, “It just means I have you to patch me up later.” She teased as she nudged her shoulder against his. 

“I don’t mind that at all,” He said as they waited in line for a few moments, “Reservation for Hargrove.” He said as he pulled her close, watching the way her eyes darted around at the crowds. He held onto her, giving her a soft squeeze before they followed the waitress. 

They sat near the windows, giving them a clear view into the busy street life. The moon was out, high in the air as a faint darkness slipped through the crowds. He pushed in her chair for her, determined to be as sweet as he could tonight. He wiped his hands against his pants out of nerves. He’d never been this close to someone before, never quite this nervous. He wondered if this was how she had felt on their first few dates. 

“What do you want?” He asked her as he pulled his menu forward, struggling with it for a moment before he got it held straight once again. He pressed it up to his nose, hoping that she couldn’t see how nervous he was suddenly. 

“I think the-,” She paused as she looked over it, “Chicken alfredo. That sounds really good.” She squinted her eyes, dropping her lips for just as second as she nodded her head. She looked quite proud of her answer as she shut the menu, as she had already read through all of it. 

“You should add mushrooms to it.” He teased her as he flicked his eyes over the various items. He ignored the prices on the menu, hoping that she had done the same thing. He really wanted it to be special for her. 

“I’m not feeling that risky,” She said with a giggle, “What about you?” She asked as she pressed her elbows on the table, then rested her chin onto her fists. He wished he had brought his camera with him. She looked too pretty for her own good. He couldn’t wait to use the video camera on her. 

“We should share the arancini balls,” He said as he watched the way the lights danced off of her features, “I think I want the chicken piccata.” He said as he shut the menu, then slowly reached forward to snag hers. He didn’t want her to look over it and change her mind. 

“That sounds good,” She said as she clasped her fingers together, “I’m really happy we’re doing this.” She said sweetly, lips pressed softly together as she watched him. He felt warm inside, tingly as if he might explode if she continued to look at him that way. 

“Me too,” Billy started, then paused as the waitress came to take their order. He repeated it all back, noticing the way Kim began to tug on the ends of her hair. She was still shy around people, even just to tell her order. She was too damn cute, “What do you think they’re fighting about?” He whispered as he secretly gestured towards the couple a few tables away from them. 

“Hm,” Kim paused for a moment, “She’s mad because he mixed up her present with his mistresses one.” She said at last, narrowing her eyes as she glanced towards them. He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her answer. 

“Damn,” He said with a laugh, “That’s just fucked up.” He said with a laugh as he sipped on his Coke. He tried not to think about the bottle of whiskey in his car. He’d have to get rid of it. Soon. He didn’t want her to find it, to be disappointed in him. 

“What?” She giggled with a flushed expression, “You told me to guess.” She defended herself as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He nodded along with her, figuring that she might not be too far away. 

“I think-,” He said slowly as he examined them again, “She just told him she’s pregnant, but he’s sterile.” He said, raising the cards as he faced her again. It was her turn to raise her eyebrows in surprise as she faced him again. 

“And you said mine was bad,” She grinned softly, “How will we ever know the truth?” She lowered herself once again as the waitress appeared, dropping off their appetizer before she disappeared again. Kim paused as she reached forward and grabbed one of the balls, inspecting it before she took a bite. 

“We won’t,” He grinned at her, “But that’s not so bad.” He told her, admiring the way she slowly chewed the food around in her mouth. She nodded her head a second later, giving her approval towards him. 

Their food arrived a few minutes later, cutting off his story about how Steve had told him about working at whichever restaurant he was currently at. Billy had thought it would be something funny, because it was. Kim was more excited about the prospect, promising that he would do good. 

“It’s so good,” She said as she munched on her noodles, “Do you want some?” She had them scooped messily onto her fork, her eyes wide with hope as he eventually felt himself giving in. 

“Sure,” He chuckled as he leaned over, letting her spoon a big bite into his mouth, “That is nice. Do you want to try this?” He asked her playfully, showing his plate off. She looked at it for a moment before she shook her head. 

“No thanks,” She said with a laugh, “I’m getting so full.” She brushed him off as she continued to eat, playfully slurping on her noodles. He leaned forward to wipe some of the sauce from the corner of her lips. 

“No room for dessert?” He teased her, knowing fully well that she’d always have room for something sweet. Her eyes lit up as she looked at him, like it was Christmas all over again. 

“Can we take it with us?” She asked him seriously as she brushed her thumbs across the edge of the plate. He tilted his head back and forth, pretending to think about it. 

“I suppose,” He said with a chuckle, “What do you want?” He asked her, turning the smaller dessert menu a little closer to him. He was still a little worried that she’d fret over the prices. He really didn’t want her to worry about that tonight. 

“The cheesecake kind of sounds good.” She admitted as she flicked her eyes back and forth. She pressed her lips together, thinking for a moment like she really wasn’t sure. 

“What about the chocolate strawberries?” He suggested, “Those are really good.” He told her seriously. He thought that she would really like them as well. It would be easy to take with them and share too. 

“Sure,” She smiled, “If you think that will be best.” She said, as agreeable as ever. He watched her curiously for a moment, admiring her soft lines and curves. He really had a hard time believing that he was here with her right now. 

“It will be.” He teased her, sending a wink in her direction. He waited until the waitress returned to repeat what they’d decided on, then worked on wiggling his wallet out of his pants when she brought the boxes and receipt over. 

“Oh my God,” Kim exclaimed once the waitress walked away as she snagged the receipt. Her face went pale, her eyes wide like she might collapse onto the floor, “This is so expensive. Oh my God. This is insane.”

“It’s fine,” He told her quickly, trying to calm her down before she hyperventilated, “It’s one night. It won’t kill me.” He reassured her as he began to skim through his cash. In all honesty, it wasn’t that expensive. But he was fairly certain that she had never spent this much money on something before. 

“I have to pay too,” She said as she gulped hard, “Or if we don’t have enough maybe they’ll let us do some work, or we can-,” She began to ramble off, but he stopped her; not wanting her to jump to conclusions. 

“I have the money,” He clarified gently a second later, “And it’s fine. Really. I wanted to do something special for you tonight.” He told her as he nodded his head, watching the slow way she exhaled. She nodded along, but still looked flustered about it. He couldn’t blame her. She’d never had much money growing up, it was probably a shock. 

He paid for the meal despite her protests, then held onto her hand as they walked around town for a little bit. Once they tired they headed back to his car, but he wasn’t through with night just yet. 

“Can we be on the beach this late?” She asked him, holding her shoes in one hand as she walked through the sand. He held onto their box of strawberries, a blanket loosely thrown over his shoulder.

“Who's going to stop us?” He asked her seriously. He knew that no one would really be out over here, especially officers. It was too dark, a little too chill. They’d have it all to themselves for right now. 

“You’re funny,” She said as she bumped her shoulder against him, “It’s nice out here.” She said as she looked around. She looked like she fitted in with the moonlight dancing against her skin. 

He set out the blanket, then kicked his shoes off next. He didn’t have plans on getting in the water, but supposed it wouldn’t be that bad either. Perhaps just a little chilly, but they could survive it if they chose to do it.

He scooped out the leftover box, opening it to expose the chocolate covered strawberries. He grinned as he held one up to her mouth, watching the way she exposed her shiny teeth and took a bite from it. 

“You were right,” She said as she nodded her head, taking another bite from the chocolate covered strawberry, “These are better than the cheesecake.” He nodded his head as he finished off the rest of the strawberry, then tossed the end of it back into the box. 

“If you could only eat one dessert for the rest of your life-.” He drew out dramatically as he turned towards her, lying lazily on the towel, “What would it be?”

“That’s an evil question.” She told him seriously, grinning as she took another bite out of one. She chewed it around for a moment, thinking deeply to herself. 

“I have a dire need to know your answer.” He said teasingly, but fully meant it. He was sure that there had to be a favorite dessert that she loved, that she hadn’t revealed to him just yet. 

“I guess it would have to be-,” She paused as she thought about it once again, “I really think strawberry cake. Especially if it has that sweet, cream cheese frosting. I really like ice cream too.”

“Mint chocolate chip?” He questioned as he cocked his eyebrows, “You know, that’s an odd choice.” He told her seriously, thinking about how mint often tasted like toothpaste to him. 

“What?” She asked, sounding a little offended, “The ice cream?” She narrowed her eyes a little bit, inspecting if her suspicions were correct. She pointed a strawberry towards him playfully, grinning as he leaned forward to take a bite from it. 

“Yes,” He nodded his head, “But that with the strawberry cake. You always picked that for your birthday.” He said as he recounted how many times they’d done that for her birthday. He didn’t understand how she thought the two flavors could blend together. They didn’t; not at all. 

“That’s because it’s my favorite,” She said as she held her chin high towards him, “And I think the flavors really compliment each other.” She replied with a smile as she discarded the stem of the strawberry. He shook his head softly at her reasoning. 

“Mhm,” He hummed as he leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her lips, “I’ll let it slide because you’re cute.” He told her as he brushed his thumb across her slightly cool cheek. He smiled as she nuzzled her face up against his. 

“What’s your favorite sweet?” She asked him as she inhaled deeply against his skin. She smelt sweet. She felt soft. He liked that about her. 

“I like pie, I guess,” He said as he shrugged his shoulders, “You know the strawberry rhubarb. Or peanut butter if I’m feeling frisky.” He said teasingly. He’d rather eat something savory, salty or maybe even spicy if he had the choice. The sugary sweets just weren’t his thing. 

“Oh, is that what you call it?” She said as she curled up towards him a little bit, “It’s nice out.” She told him as she snuggled her way closer to him. He pulled her deeper, nearly onto his lap as they listened to the waves crashing against the shore. 

“You feel cold.” He told her seriously as he rubbed his large palms across her exposed shoulders. She felt really chill. He squeezed at her skin softly, not wanting her to get sick. 

“You’re warm,” She said in response, “This is nice.” She sighed softly as she looked up towards the sky, her eyes dark as the colors molded into the night sky. He glanced up, wondering if she had any fun constellation stories to tell him. 

“Maybe we could get a house on the beach one day,” He said as he pushed her hair from her face, “And we could sit out here at night.” He said softly, thinking about what they’d be like in a few years. It was odd to think about getting that old with someone, because he had been certain that at one point he’d be alone forever. 

“That would be fun,” She said softly as she looked up towards him, “Maybe we could make a bonfire.” She suggested, her eyes flashing with color as she suggested it towards him. He chuckled as he played with her loose strands. 

“Mhm,” He hummed along, “And we could go skinny dipping.” He replied cheekily, sending her a wink that quickly left her flushed. She shook her head, giggling like she still couldn’t believe he’d suggest such a thing. 

“Oh gosh,” She said as she rolled her eyes, grinning gently, “Of course you’d say that.” She pointed at his ribs softly, making him jerk as he felt a sudden urge to laugh. He pressed her fingers away gently, not wanting her to tickle him. 

“Here,” He said as he gave her the last strawberry, distracting her by shoving it in her mouth so she couldn’t focus on the way he almost laughed, “You ready to go?” He asked, watching the way she held her manicured nails up to her lips. 

“Mhm,” She said as she nodded her head, furrowing her eyebrows together as she tried to chew down the large bite, “That was a lot.” She breathed out, cheeks full as her words came out into mumbles. He chuckled as he poked the side of her cheek, nodding as he began to gather everything up. 

The drive to the hotel was short, not far away from the beach. Kim shuffled back into her Mary Jane’s, her dress slightly sandy as he led her inside. He carried their bags, grinning as she looked around curiously. It wasn’t the fanciest thing, but it was better than the motel at Hawkins. 

“Uh, I had a room reservation,” He said as he tapped his fingers against the desk, “For William Hargrove.” He said as he waited for a moment, going through the rest of the process before he paid for the room. 

The worker moved the key towards them, giving a soft smile before they turned away. Billy handed the key towards her; picked up the bags and then headed towards the elevator. The lobby was fairly empty, meaning that people were either already in their rooms or hadn’t arrived yet.

“William?” Kim teased him, “How formal.” She said as she bumped her shoulder against his. He snickered, trying to ignore the flames on his cheeks as she rested her chin on top of his shoulder. 

“Shut it, Kimberly.” He sassed back playfully as he hit the button to the sixth floor, then reached around to squeeze at her waist. William just sounded more mature than what Billy did. She snuggled up to him again, breathing in softly as the elevator took them up and up. 

“Can I?” She asked as she held the key up towards her face, grinning excitedly as they stopped in front of the room. He watched her in amusement, wondering how she could be so excited over something so small. 

“That’s why I handed it to you,” He said with a smile, “It’s all yours.” He took a step back as he gestured towards the door, leaving her room to do her thing. He watched the way her dress moved against her thighs, how her features lit up as she got the door unlocked and then opened. 

“Wow,” She said as she looked around, “This is nice.” She nodded her head softly, staring at the photos on the walls. His attention was quickly turned towards the little bottles on the dresser, recognizing right away what they were. 

“Very nice,” He said, trying to keep calm as he leaned in front of the dresser, “You want to freshen up first?” He asked as he put his hand on his hip, mentally cursing himself. He didn’t think to ask about removing them beforehand. 

“We’re taking turns?” She asked, making him shrug his shoulders as he did his best to keep nonchalant, “Sure.” She grinned as she grabbed her bag and walked towards the bathroom. 

He worked quickly, glancing around the room for what he might be able to hide them in. He didn’t want to act like he didn’t trust her, but he didn’t want her to be tempted either. He searched until he finally found a paper bag. 

“Can I come out now?” Her voice rang from the bathroom, making him jump as he searched for a way to quickly discard them. He furrowed his eyebrows as he worked quickly to get rid of them. 

“Uh,” He said as he shuffled them into the paper bag quickly, twisting the top of it tightly before he could find somewhere to hide the little bottles, “Yeah! I’m um, totally ready.” He said as he shoved the bag underneath the bed, deciding it would be the best place to keep them. 

She walked out, her cheeks red as she tugged her hair behind her ears. She had fixed her hair, making the curls fall back into place as she slowly approached him. He stared for the longest time, trying to find the words to speak. 

“When did you get this?” He asked her softly, brushing his fingers across the tiny black straps on her slender shoulders. He dragged his finger down the strap, following it over the curve of her perky tit. The lacy black material barely covered her boobs and left a vast amount of skin revealed down her ribs. 

He could feel his cock springing to life in his jeans as he looked at the little red bow that was resting between her tits before he moved his hand further down. It was scandalous, the sides of it cut up high to reveal her soft hips. Her pussy was barely covered, hidden away by only a small section of lace. He slowly rubbed his palm against her side, admiring her soft ass. 

“Secret,” She said softly, grinning shyly as she started to play with her hair. She looked sexy, beautiful. But he could tell that she was uncomfortable with what she was wearing, “Do you like it?” She whispered, looking a little nervous as she glanced towards him.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he tapped his finger against her chin, tilting her head up just a bit to ghost his lips over hers, “Do you want to see your other gift?” He asked her, watching the way her eyes flickered up in surprise. 

“You shouldn’t have-,” She began to protest, shaking her head as he pressed his finger against her lips. He’d thought of something similar, following her mindset.

“Shh,” He mumbled, smirking as he let himself grope his rough palms over her smooth ass, “Just try it on.” He said, doing his best to keep from grinding himself forward against her slender thighs. He wanted to desperately feel her. 

“Okay,” She said bashfully as she glanced at him, biting her lip as she bent over to grab the bag. He groaned, pressing a palm over his growing bulge. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to keep his groans to himself as he teased himself while she pulled the outfit free, “Oh. Wow. it’s beautiful.”

“You wanna wear it?” He asked her, tilting his head as he watched the way her features wrinkled up in delight as she continued to stare at it. He had a feeling she would like it. He had spent a lot of time thinking of her in it. 

“Can I?” She asked as she turned towards him nervously, blinking at him with those big hazel eyes that drove him crazy. He nodded his head, eyes glued to her slender curves as she took off the skimpy black material and slid the new one on, “What do you think?”

He drifted his eyes over the thicker white straps, the big bow that rested just above her boobs. From there down it was a sheer light green, leaving him with just enough to see the curve of her body. He flicked his tongue across his bottom lip as he stared at her hardened nipples, at the slight tuft of hair across her cunt. The dress ended mid thigh, matching the white material that was at the top of the dress. She looked more comfortable as she twisted around, grinning proudly as her cheeks burned brightly. It was very much her. 

“You look beautiful,” He told her as he leaned against the dresser, smirking as he motioned her towards him, “C’mere. Let me see you.” He told her, eyes ravenous at the slow way she approached him. 

He pressed his hands against the sheer material gently, touching her hips gently as he smoothed it down over her sides. She was stunning, leaving his cock aching in a way he didn’t think was possible. He drifted his eyes back up towards her, enjoying the way her face continued to burn. 

He kissed her deeply, keeping his hands across her slender jaw as he held her close. He savored the feeling of her pouty lips against hers, of the way they dragged against his own. She tasted sweet, like cherries. The taste of her drove him crazy, made him want more as her hands ghosted along his biceps.

She moaned as he pressed his thumb into the curve of her neck, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue between her parted lips. It was messy, sloppy as he brushed his tongue against hers. She twitched against his tongue as he spread his tongue through her mouth, licking away her saliva and moans as she began to rut her hips forward.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he snagged his teeth against her bottom lip, enjoying the gasp that fell from her tongue, “You’re so pretty, wanna feel you. S’that what you want?” He asked as he brushed his nose against hers, enjoying the way she pressed herself closer to him. 

“Yeah,” She breathed out against his mouth, tasting like the sweet strawberries they’d eaten earlier, “I want you so badly.” She whispered sweetly, eyes flashing with lust as she palmed at his cock. He hissed this time, staring down at the way she grasped him.

She stripped him slowly, like she was taking her time as he pulled free his shirt. She kissed at the crook of his neck, making him shiver as she brushed her fingertips along his spine. She moved her hands across his ribs, continuing to suck at his skin before she moved her hands down further.

She was slow to remove his belt, making him smile a little bit as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her once again. She was fumbling, but he was in no rush. He wanted to savor each little second with her. 

She finally got it removed, looping it free so roughly that she almost smacked herself in the face. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at it, laughing as she looked up at him. He grinned as he brushed his fingers through her hair, thinking about how crazy she made him feel.

“Gently,” She said with a soft smile, her cheeks reddening as she slowly wrapped her fingers around his cock. He hissed softly at the sensation, groaning as he felt himself hardening against her simple touch. She drove him crazy, “S’pretty.” She said softly as she slowly moved her hand along the length of his cock.

“You’re pretty,” He told her softly, cupping her chin as he slowly jerked his hips forward against her touch. He enjoyed the feeling of her hand, but didn’t want to get himself too distracted. He wanted to tease her first, get her a little wild and frisky, “And naughty.” He teased, gripping her hands and pushing her down onto the bed before she could protest.

He grinned as he crawled over her, looking at the way her eyebrows furrowed together as she parted her lips to protest. He ignored her words, kissing her deeply as he drifted his hands down to her sides. He squeezed at her skin before he moved towards her clothed tits, massaging them in her hands.

“I’m good,” She whimpered against his lips, her eyes hazy as she stared up at him, “Really good.” She pressed her lips together, looking like she was close to pouting. He did his best to keep from laughing, fully amused with how she always wanted to be good in his eyes. 

“Are you?” He continued to tease her as he moved his fingers up towards her chin, cupping her skin softly before he dragged his thumb across her pouty lips. He breathed in gently, admiring how smooth they were under his thumb. 

“Mhm.” She said softly, puckering her lips together as she kissed his thumb softly. She watched him, sliding his thumb in further as she began to suck on it. She slid her legs out from underneath them, spreading them wide as she swirled her tongue across the length of his digit. 

He pulled away slowly, watching the trail of spit that was left in his wake before he pushed her further up the bed. He grinned as he played with the hem of the dress, touching it gently before he pushed it up towards her belly button.

He kissed her skin softly, then licked down towards her pretty pussy. He brushed his fingers across her pink folds, earning a gasp from her as he continued to kiss around her clit. He breathed in her sweet musk, having a dire need to bury himself beneath her legs.

“Does this feel good?” He teased her as he pressed his thumb against her clit, pressing down softly and then rubbing in the small circles that she enjoyed. She moaned, her eyes already shut from the simple movements. He bit down on her thigh softly, enjoying the way she jumped surprise.

“Yes,” She whined as she brushed her fingers through his hair. He groaned at the sensation, licking at the teeth marks on her skin as he continued to play with her clit, “Feels really good.” She breathed out, eyes opening as she turned her gaze down towards him.

He moved his hands away, gripping her thighs and pushing them up towards her chest so she was fully exposed to him. Her face burned as a smirk formed on his lips. He felt like he could read her, like he knew what she was thinking.

He pressed his lips against her folds softly, inhaling as he flicked his tongue out against her. He licked away her slick messily, letting himself drool onto her cunt to make it even more dirty. He enjoyed the sounds from her mouth, but even more the sounds of her slippery folds against his mouth. 

He moved his lips down further, licking as he went before he spread his fingertips down between her cheeks. He spread the mixture of his saliva, or her slick against her rim. Her body shook in response, always a little jolty when he teased her. 

He spit repeatedly against her hole, admiring the way it glimmered before he swirled his saliva across her hole. He briefly pressed a kiss against her clit again before he slid his finger inside of her puckered hole. He moved slowly, recognizing it had been some time as he waited as she adjusted around his thick digit. He mumbled under his breath, savoring the taste of her pretty cunt on his tongue.

Her moans were loud, slightly shrill as he curled his finger inside of her. He slowly pumped it in and out as he traced his tongue along her pussy again, chuckling softly at the way she began to grind her hips up against his mouth. 

“So needy,” He teased her as he glanced towards her, using his free hand to hold down on her hip, “Relax, baby sister. Let me take care of you.” He mocked her softly, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed as he began to curl his fingers deeper inside of her. 

He pressed his lips against her clit again, licking languidly as she continued to slowly wiggled against his mouth. He groaned as he flicked his tongue out against her clit repeatedly, earning a loud cry from her. 

He pressed his thumb inside of her cunt slowly, just gently pressing inside of her while he continued to grind his fingers up into her puckered hole. She whimpered loudly, leaving him groaning into her folds as he did his best to keep from rutting against the mattress. Just the sound of her was able to drive him crazy, made him feel like he could cum by just her sounds. 

He slid his tongue in against his thumb, curling it inside deeper as he began to lick against her walls. He moved his fingers roughly, enjoying the way she began to clamp down against his digit as his nose began to rub against her clit. 

“Billy!” She moaned loudly, her cries bouncing off of the walls as her movements against his tongue became more desperate. He curled his tongue in deeper, flicking at her spongy walls as he continued to grind his fingers further into her hole. His tongue was pressed against her clit, her slick smearing all across his face as he licked away the remnants of her. 

He chuckled, unable to help himself as he watched the way her chest quickly rose and fell. Her skin was flushed and warm as he kissed up her body slowly. He brushed his thumb across her exposed skin, pressing his thigh between her legs as he slid his lips across her pretty collarbone. 

“So good for me,” He mumbled as he reached her lips, kissing her gently as she continued to fight to catch her breath. He sat up a bit, reaching back onto the edge of the bed before he joined her again, “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone else.” She said as he hooked the belt around her neck, thinking that in some odd way it looked like she belonged. She was his, like he was hers. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking exhilarated as she watched him.

He grinned at her, squeezing her chin once again before he moved away from her. He settled on his knees for a moment, smacking against the side of her thighs gently until she moved onto her hands and knees.

She giggled softly, the sound slightly muffled until she pulled herself up onto her elbows. She looked back towards him, her eyes full and round as he moved behind her. He pressed his rough palms underneath her dress, wiggling himself closer as his cock ached in anticipation. 

He exhaled slowly as he dragged the tip of his cock between her wet folds, teasing them both for just a moment before he pressed himself inside of her. He sighed deeply, doing his best to keep from slamming into her as he savored the way her walls stretched around his girth. 

She was soft, warm and wet all at once as he thrusted his cock deeper inside of her. She moaned from underneath him as he drifted his hands up the curve of her spine, admiring the way his cock disappeared inside of her tight cunt as he moved his fingers to the back of her neck.

He looped his fingers lazily through the belt, giving a soft squeeze as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted his cock deep inside of her spongy walls once again. He groaned in bliss, her body trembling underneath his as he began to build a steady rhythm. 

“Look at you,” He tsked, pushing the material of her dress up over her hips to admire the way her ass moved as he dragged her back against the length of his cock, “Mhm, such a dirty girl. Taking my cock so well.” He exhaled roughly, pleasure rushing through his body at the way her cunt squeezed his girth. 

“Yeah,” She cried out, whimpering as she tossed her head back lazily. He tugged on the belt a little harder, making her whine as he dragged her body up against his, “Oh, God!” She whimpered, cheeks red as he held onto her.

“Mhm,” He mumbled as he brought his other hand against her tits, squeezing the right one roughly in his hand as he continued to jerk his hips forward, “Such a dirty little bitch. You like that, don’t you?” He huffed out as he brushed his nose against her neck, enjoying the way she shivered against him. 

“Yes!” She whined louder this time, moaning in awe as he felt his thrusts growing a little more frantic, “More, more. I want more.” He groaned as he felt her leaking around him, the sound of her cunt squeezing his cock echoing in the room. 

He grunted as he continued to grind his cock deeper inside of her, earning a fresh wave of moans from her lips. He tugged on the belt a little bit, pulling her mouth towards his. He kissed her roughly, enjoying how his lips vibrated from her moans. 

She rocked herself along the length of his cock, whining as she flicked her tongue against his. Her eyes were wide, her lips plump as she pressed herself back against him. He could feel himself throbbing inside of her, his own pleasure spreading through his body as he felt himself sliding deeper inside of her. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t ya?” He grinned as he cupped her chin, using his thumb to wipe away the drool from the corner of her lips, “Your pretty cunt is squeezing me so tight, making me feel so good. You hear her?” He muttered as he dragged his fingers across her clit. She jolted, crooning from the sensation.

“Yeah,” She whimpered, shaking as he felt his thrusts becoming deeper and rougher. He grazed his teeth along her cheek, his cock aching as he felt his orgasm growing closer and closer, “Jesus, Billy! Right there!” She whined as she bounced along his cock, making rough groans leave his mouth.

He pressed his brows tightly together, trying to stay concentrated as he met her rapid movements. He licked his bottom lip, watching the way his cock slid deep inside of her cunt. He grunted, spilling out a series of curses before he quickly removed his cock.

It took one swift jerk of his hand before he was cumming on her pale ass, covering her milky thighs with his white spunk. He hissed softly, his cock twitching in his hand as thick ropes continued to pain her skin. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, groaning as he pushed her back down onto the mattress. He reached his fingers messily between her legs, brushing his fingertips across her clit roughly, “S’good for me. S’okay, baby.” He praised her, urging her orgasm from her. 

She cried out even louder, gripping the sheets tightly as she turned her head towards the side. Her eyes were shut, lips parted as she twitched underneath him. He groaned, wishing he could feel her spongy walls cumming around his girth. 

He pressed down against her abdomen, keeping her hips still as he began to rub his fingertips across her clit roughly. She squirmed and whined, crying out as her legs twitched uncontrollably. He grunted in concentration, admiring the way her pussy felt on his fingers and the wet sound that filled the room.

“Jesus!” She squeaked out, eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed together as she pressed her hips forward. He looked up at her, admiring the pleasure that spread across her features. She was the prettiest woman she’d ever seen. She came with a cry, her liquid squirting out towards him and coating his hand. He grunted at the feeling, at the sight. He was sure he’d never seen something so sexy before. 

“Fuck,” He groaned as he continued to rub his fingers against her clit, “God. Look at you, messy girl. Dirty little slut.” He came to a slow halt, listening to her soft whimpers and cries as her body shook underneath him. He smirked as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, licking them clean.

“What?” She asked curiously, eyes hazy and glossed over as she blinked at him in confusion. She was breathing hard again, her mouth barely opening as she turned towards him lazily.

“I didn’t say anything,” He said with a laugh, watching the way she slowly exhaled, “Stay here. I’ll get you cleaned up.” He promised as he stood, heading towards the bathroom and quickly warming up a warm washcloth.

He returned quickly, trying not to laugh at the lazy way she was still trying to hold her bottom high in the air. He was sure the position was a little uncomfortable, well, possibly a lot. He hummed as he joined her at the edge of the bed again. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he slowly cleaned her up. He was gentle across her folds and clit, noticing the way she jolted again. He wiped his cum from her ass next, moving carefully so it didn’t smear. 

“I feel like I could sleep forever,” She said with a tired smile, “What about you?” She asked, humming softly as he tossed the rag towards the corner of the room. He smacked her bottom softly, laughing at the way she lazily fell onto her side.

“I’m tired too,” He agreed, leaning over again to wrap his arms around her waist. She groaned as she wrapped her legs around his waist, protesting for just a moment as he lifted her up. He held onto her with one arm, using the other to pull the sheets back before he laid her down, “Did you have a good time?”

“Best Valentine's Day Ever,” She promised as she slowly pushed the dress back over her thighs. She was apparently too attached to it, not wanting to take it off, “What about you?” She asked hesitantly, like she was afraid of his answer.

“You’re the first one I’ve taken out for Valentine’s Day,” He promised as he climbed in next to her. He’d get up and brush his teeth in a moment, for now, he just wanted to soak in the feeling of her against him, “I love you.” He told her, fully meaning it as he thought of how he’d have to try and top this day every single year. It would be hard, but worth it. 

[jomiddlemarch]

reunions, expansion pack edition

You decided, brunette pixie cut and outdated stereotypes about blondes notwithstanding, to play dumb.

“I’m not sure—”

“Miller.  From 11th grade English. Though I don’t generally go by just my last name anymore,” he said and then extended a hand to shake, which obviously, you had to take. He had a firm grip, calluses across his palms, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit you were turned on. “Joel.”

“I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” he interrupted. 

“You do?”

“Yeah. You’re the only reason I decided to come to my high school’s 20th reunion,” he said.

“Me?” you said, actually feeling pretty dumb at the moment. More like the struck dumb kind and your mouth was probably hanging open, given the way Joel was smiling at you. You shut it, feeling your teeth clatter against each other, biting your lip but not in the tentative sexy way it happened in a movie or a romance novel. You considered taking a sip of your drink but figured you’d probably spill it or gulp too much and end up spluttering. You couldn’t take a deep breath to calm down, he’d notice, so you balled up your free hand in a fist and then relaxed it. It didn’t work.

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be so hard to believe. I had a crush on you back then. Wanted to ask you to Prom—”

“Why didn’t you?” you ask before you can stop yourself. Maybe you’re actually dreaming, this can’t really be happening, but if it is a dream, it’s a good one, probably the best you’re going to have in the next decade, so you decide you should really push it. The chances of it going off the rails with like some Fraggle asking you to do the Electric Slide (Mokey, not Red) are high, but the chances of Joel telling you he had been interested and Still Was were good enough you’d risk it.

“Lots of reasons. Didn’t think you’d say yes. Couldn’t afford a limo. Or a tux, the little rosebud corsage in the plastic box with all the ribbons and shit. Didn’t want to ask you to go in my dad’s pick-up. Get you all dirty maybe,” he paused and you were both standing there with all dirty hanging in the air between you, hovering, making you blush. Joel looked a little abashed too, which was a relief. “Too scared, basically,” he said.

“I don’t like limos,” you said. “Never have.”

You’d sort of blurted it out, but there was only warm interest in his dark eyes, no mockery.

“Good to know. Didn’t take one here tonight,” he said.

“Me neither,” you said and he laughed.

“Look, you rather talk or dance? I know my limits, I can’t do both. Not with you. Not well,” he said. The DJ the reunion planning committee hired had started to play and people were heading to the dance floor. You thought about Joel’s hands on your hips, your arms looped around his neck. You thought about the revelations he’d already shared, his ringless hands, whether you were going to wake up and when.

“Talk?” you said. “These heels, they’re kind of high—”

“You can take them off, you know,” he said. “Whenever you want.”

“Later,” you said.

“Later’s good too. You want another drink?” he replied. 

“Sure. Surprise me,” you replied. You weren’t aiming for sultry but magically, you’d gotten about 47% of the way there. Joel held your gaze and it was definitely a promise, not a challenge.

“I aim to,” he said.

*

“So, cards on the table,” Joel said, having set down a brightly colored cocktail with a wedge of lime and a matching green umbrella in front of you and a fresh beer in front of himself and nary an actual card. “Graduated, went to UT, run my own construction business with my brother Tommy, you probably don’t remember him. I got two girls at home, eleven and eight, divorced for over five years, don’t see much of either ex and yeah, I got two. Third time’s the charm, so they say.”

“Um, yeah,” you replied, trying to take it all in with some facsimile of nonchalance, a phrase your favorite journalism professor would have struck-through with red pen instantly. “They do say that. I feel like—”

“It’s a lot,” he said. “I know. But my girls are my whole life. I can’t, I won’t hide that. Can’t French braid their hair worth shit, but being a good dad’s the most important part of my life.” 

“No, it is good. I appreciate you not dancing around stuff. It’s just, I feel like I’m in the speed round of a game show maybe,” you said. You took the umbrella out of the glass but you didn’t pick it up. Not yet.

“You think you’re gonna win? Joel asked. He did take a long swallow of his beer, then grinned. God, he was attractive, his features a little too rough to be conventionally handsome, which was better in your opinion. “I’d always bet on you, Scout.”

“Christ, no one’s called me that since high school,” you said. You’d carried your paperback copy of To Kill A Mockingbirduntil the cover nearly disintegrated. It had been tucked into the inner pocket of your navy-blue Jansport backpack but word had gotten around.

“If you don’t like it, I won’t,” Joel said.

“It’s okay. It’s just a blast from the past, you know? Like this whole thing really,” you said. You paused and both of you looked around the room, filled with people you’d seen every day, but never in a setting like this, the hotel ballroom much more nondescript than the gaily decorated lockers that lined the high school hallways, hand-lettered posters plastered in the cafeteria. Everyone was all dressed up in a sort of uniform, Joel like the rest of the men in a nice button-down and chinos, you wearing a cocktail dress that was a little too tight for anything work-related, your heels a little too high, designed to make your legs and ass look as close to amazing as you could manage north of thirty-five, plus or minus Pilates and/or running 5Ks. In your case, definitely minus both Pilates and 5Ks. Joel did not seem to mind, based on the frankly appreciative glances you kept catching.

“My turn—graduated, went to college up north, worked on a couple papers before I ended up back here. I’m trying to make a go of the whole journalism thing but I’m going to take some education classes, hedge my bets. Maybe I’ll end up back at our old school, teaching English in Mr. Pascal’s old room and being the faculty advisor for the drama club,” you said, running through the last twenty years and where you’d gotten to: back in Texas, not sure of yourself. Tonight, you were back in high school but now there was Joel, looking at you like you’d been away too long. Like he knew who you were then and he recognized you now and if anything, he was more interested, where interested was a good enough word for a journalist to use when a man looked at her like Joel was looking at you. 

“Not the advisor for the Herald?” Joel said. “I remember the drama kids being a hot mess most of the time.”

“If I end up back there, advising the Herald will be salt in the wound,” you said.

“Maybe not,” Joel said. “You’d be an amazing teacher and faculty advisor, I know it. And hey, I heard a piece on NPR when I was drivin’ the girls to school the other day and they couldn’t stop arguin’ about what station they wanted to listen to, so I pulled the dad card and picked, and they, the NPR folks, were talking about how lots of people want to support local news these days. Have some faith in yourself—”

“You don’t have to say that,” you replied. “No one comes to their high school reunion to give an old classmate a pep talk.”

“I came hoping to see my high school crush,” Joel said. “Hoping not to make a fool of myself. Hoping you would show up. That you wouldn’t be married or seeing someone…”

Here, he paused, shrugged, and you remembered you hadn’t said yet what your relationship status was.

“I’m single. Totally. Very single,” you said in a rush. 

“That’s a fuckin’ relief, Scout,” Joel said. “Maybe now we can have that dance?”

“Sure,” you said, reaching over to pick up your drink and toss it back. Liquid courage and all that. Joel put his hand on your wrist, lightly enough though it stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Don’t. Don’t want you too tipsy,” he said, his voice soft, maybe the voice he used with his younger daughter if she was having a hard time settling down. “I want you to be able to say yes and mean it.”

Okay, that was not the dad-voice. 

You left the drink untouched.

*

“Never would’ve believed this, back in the day,” Joel murmured. The DJ had switched over to what seemed like an endless medley of the popular slow dances of their high school era and every couple on the floor had reverted to the most basic sway, except for Maria Gonzalez, who was executing what looked like a professional tango with some guy whose name you couldn’t remember who’d been on the basketball team. You’d spent exactly one second trying to remember and then focused on how it felt to have Joel’s hands at your waist, his cheek grazing your temple. He was holding you close, so you could tell he smelled like cedar and leather, like he’d put on an actual cologne to get ready, but just enough. He’d been careful.

“Me neither,” you replied. “I never thought you thought about me like that.”

“Like this,” Joel corrected. Somehow, he brought you closer, his hips pressed snug against yours. “I thought for sure you knew. It wasn’t like I was real subtle—”

“What d’you mean?” you said.

“You serious, Scout? I caught so much flak for watchin’ you instead of the board, I was always hangin’ around your class or your locker. I sent you those pink carnations for Valentine’s Day senior year,” Joel said.

“Those were from a secret admirer,” you protested. “It was signed in block print. You literally wrote ‘from your secret admirer’ without a single hint or clue about how it was you. I thought my mom felt bad and had one of my friends buy them for me.”

“I figured you’d know it was me,” he said.

“How? Telepathy?” you said. Joel laughed and his hands tightened on your waist.

“Okay, maybe that one was on me. I liked you so goddamn much, I wanted you so bad, I thought you’d feel it,” Joel said. You both swayed together for a moment and you rested your cheek on his shoulder. You could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, wished you were rubbing your cheek against his bare chest. Finding out what made him moan your name.

“This all right? Not too much?” he asked. 

“Is it past tense? Liking me, wanting me?”

“No. It’s so present tense I’m in danger of embarrassin’ myself,” Joel replied. 

You took one hand from the back of his neck and cupped his cheek, pressing a little to incline his head towards yours. You looked into his dark eyes and then, almost exaggerating, down at his lips. His left hand slipped down to your hip and then briefly touched your ass.

“That makes two of us, I guess,” you said.

“Not possible, darlin’,” he said, his voice, the endearment tender where his body was hard, demanding. He shifted so you’d feel his erection against your thigh, his arousal undeniable.

“This isn’t just messing around,” he said. “This isn’t just tonight, for me. If that’s all you want, I understand, but I can’t—”

“It’s not all I want. Tonight. It’s more than I thought could ever happen,” you paused, arched your back to get even closer to him, “but it’s not more than I want. You didn’t ask me why I came tonight—”

“Why did you?”

“Because someone said Miller was coming. Probably. Maybe. There was a chance you’d show up,” you said. “I bought this dress, these heels thinking you might show up and you’d see me across the room and smile. Maybe lift your beer up in sort-of a toast, like, lookin’ good, and then you’d go back to talking to your friends.”

“I really should have signed that Valentine’s Day card,” Joel said. “If that’s all you thought might happen.”

“Well, it’s all I expected was possible,” you said. “I hoped—”

You broke off then, because it was a lot to confess and also, Joel was now stroking the curve of your hip with his thumb and letting his lips touch your temple, the shell of your ear in what was basically a kiss and then definitely a kiss when you felt the tip of his tongue on your ear and gasped.

“What’d you hope for, Scout?” he said.

“That you’d be good with your hands. Able to help me with my zipper. It was tough to reach to get zipped up and I think it’d be a little tricky to get this dress off,” you said. He made a low sound in the back of his throat and thank God he’d somehow guided the pair of you over to a shadowy corner of the dance floor because you were in serious danger of someone yelling out Get a room already!

“I hoped you’d like black lace,” you said.

@tinytinymenace @goodwithcheese @tessa-quayle @sheepdogchick3 since there was perhaps some interest in more of this drabble, I (ahem) elaborated.

[heavencasteel420]

WIP Wednesday

Featuring: Jonathan and the mortifying ordeal of enjoying your Baby Boomer parents’ music!

From Tonight, Tonight, The Highway’s Bright:

“What’s on this?” the front-desk lady asked, frowning at the cassette tape. “You know we listen to these backwards, too.”

She squinted up at Jonathan, who was suddenly very aware of the hollows under his eyes and the cooking-oil smell that he felt sure still clung to his hair. He’d made an effort, washing his face and hands in the bathroom at Drummond’s and swapping his T-shirt for a navy sweater with yellow stripes, but there’d been no time to go back to the apartment and shower, let alone take a nap. Another old-house nightmare had broken up his sleep last night.

“It’s folk, mostly,” he said, attempting to sound meek instead of annoyed. He had long shifts and bad dreams; that didn’t mean that he was trying to send Satanic messages to his sick mother. “It’s nice. Soothing.”

He’d listened to the tape himself on the drive down to Pennhurst. It was full of stuff from the sixties: Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, Joan Baez, Tom Paxton, Peter Sarstedt, the Everly Brothers after they’d started making weird concept albums instead of chipper malt-shop pop. It wasn’t his usual style at all. He preferred more concise lyrics, and all the acoustic strumming just made him sleepy. Yet listening to “Farewell, Angelina” and “Shady Grove” while surrounded by the ghosts of Mom’s Camels had an almost hypnotizing effect, making the worries of the day seem less sharp and pressing. Maybe the tape would do the same for her.

The front-desk lady—Dolores, according to her badge—didn’t respond, just turned the tape over in her thin, knobby hands. It occurred to him that Joan Baez might be as offensive to her as Iron Maiden or the Sex Pistols. She was the right age to have been scandalized by Elvis (or, he thought uncharitably, Scott Joplin). He wondered if she (or the mysterious “we” she’d mentioned) would deem the lyrics too disturbing for a schizophrenic person. He thought of the pirates in “Farewell, Angelina,” shooting tin cans with a sawed-off shotgun while the neighbors cheered and clapped. He loved those lyrics; they reminded him of the people of Hawkins, cheerfully turning out for the spectacle of his family’s destruction. Joan Baez—or, rather, Bob Dylan, who’d written the song—had probably had something completely different in mind, but he didn’t care. He’d take vindication where he could find it.

From Tomorrow’s a Long Way Off (warning for allusions to domestic violence, plus Lonnie saying a bunch of gross inappropriate sexist shit, including about Joyce, below the cut):

“You gotta let these girls know where things stand, right at the start,” Lonnie said, turning the key in the ignition. The stereo started playing The Rolling Stones. “You can’t let them walk all over you. Give an inch, and they’ll take a mile.”

Yeah, thought Jonathan, they might start thinking that you shouldn’t call them crazy bitches and throw things at them.

“Mind if I turn this up?” he asked, gesturing at the stereo. “I like this song.”

“Sure,” Lonnie said. He pulled out of the parking space and started down Main Street. “What was that one you liked when you were little? You used to kind of bob up and down to it. God, you were funny.”

“Street Fighting Man,” said Jonathan.

Despite himself, he smiled. He could remember crouching in front of the record player on the shag carpet, trying to get closer to the music and its strange, rollicking beat. Lonnie saying hey, Joyce, the kid’s got taste. His mom beaming, hugely pregnant with Will and wearing some long hippie dress with orange flowers.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Lonnie was also smiling. It made him look older, nicer. Then he sighed. “It was easier when I was a kid, you know. Even girls thought women’s lib was a joke. Course, they still wanted their own way, but…”

He trailed off and drummed on the steering wheel. But you’ll never break, never break, never break, went the stereo. Jonathan stayed quiet.

“Well, I don’t know,” Lonnie continued. “I guess we got nothing to complain about. Back then, good girls didn’t give it up. Hell, most bad girls didn’t go all the way. Hey, you wanna know which one your mom was?”

Jonathan’s mouth went dry.

“No,” he snapped. “Why would I want to know that?”

Lonnie just laughed.

“Lighten up, kid. It was just a joke.”

Jonathan didn’t reply. Joke or not, it had been a gross thing to say. He looked out the window, watching the buildings get sparser. They were almost at the edge of town.

“You don’t know how good you have it,” Lonnie continued, apparently unbothered. “None of it means anything now.”

[unkwn0s]

Rebirth of a Star General: 2nd reading.

Hii, i'm back with more chapters. i've realized i'm mostly saving the quoted i like to comeback later when the drama airs. (Btw i'm sad they still haven't released a trailer, it's been months since they wrapped filming).

Chapter 161-180. Jealousy. Rundu Battle.

Quote Chapter 161: "Regrets in life are often more numerous than fulfillments."

Quote Chapter 161: “The returning person still thinks of home, how can I console my loneliness now… Thinking of your thin clothing in bitter cold, riding a thin horse under the waning moon… Knowing that life requires farewells, but fearing the fleeting years. Facing each other with cold lamps, when will I hear the sound of night rain…” .

Jiyang arc done, like i said its very importang to He Yan and Xiao Jue's relationship but also the princess Hongjin and Liu Buwang story is so sad.

Chapter 162: He Yan asking Xiao Jue if he saved her from the water but thinking the mouth to mouth was a dream and him nervous about it. YEAH.

Also Xiao Jue completely shutting off Shen Muxue and she couldnt get the hint like GIRL?

Quote Chapter 163: "During their time in Jiyang, the two of them often ate together at the same table, and it had become a habit. He Yan subconsciously handed him a pair of chopsticks, and she took a pair for herself." HOW DOMESTIC

Quote Chapter 163: "Being the son of a wealthy family indeed meant having high standards. He described this delicately fragrant scent as too strong. He Yan asked, “It’s a heartfelt gift, isn’t it a pity not to use it?” 

“If you like it, take it,” Xiao Jue replied impatiently." JDKFKDKDKDF HE WAS KEEPING IT FOR HER HE IS SO ANNOYING

Quote Chapter 163: “Do you… also think that scars on a woman’s body are shameful and a weakness that shouldn’t be talked about?” 

"The young man’s voice was calm, “Just a scar, everyone has them. You don’t need to be nervous or care about it. If it can be treated, treat it. If not, forget about it. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.” 

Chapter 164: JEALOUS HE YAN OMGGGG

Quote Chapte 165: " As she was about to leave, Xiao Jue asked, “Are you busy?” 

“Fourth Young Master Chu asked me to go to him tonight, saying that he has something very important to tell me,” He Yan said, “The time should be about now.” 

The young commander, under the lamplight, had a stunningly beautiful face, with a loose inner garment, and his skin was like jade. However, his eyes were as sharp as a frozen pond, giving people an intimidating feeling. His voice was calm, with a faint, almost imperceptible anger.

"You are not allowed to go". @&$*#(#,%($*$*$*$* OH HUAIJIN

Quote Chapter 166: “For Xiao Huaijin, the more nervous he is, the more it proves one thing.” 

“He treats He Yan differently.” 

The lamp on the table gently swayed, and along with his voice, it disappeared into the shadows. 

“She will become Xiao Huaijin’s weakness.” 

its so hilarious how xiao jue is in denial, he yan is clueless, lin shuanghe is fighting for his ship and chu zhao is one scheming f*cker, he got the emperor do give her a title without consulting her first and xj hated it so bad lol.

Quote Chapter 166: “I probably understand what you mean. But matters of the heart, how can we mix deception into them? I like someone, whether I express it openly or keep it in my heart forever, I want it to be straightforward. If I have to use cunning to test and speculate, wouldn’t that be tiring? Even if I obtain such a relationship, it’s not what I want in my heart. Haven’t you heard a saying? Using lies to verify lies will only result in another lie. In the end, I won’t know what’s true and what’s false.” love love love how he yan isnt petty even when she is jealous, she is such a pure soul.

Quote Chapter 166: “I originally planned to request the title for her as a woman after returning to the capital,” Xiao Jue said indifferently. “Chu Zilan took the initiative, seemingly helping He Yan, but in reality, he planted a hidden danger.” OMG YOU KNOW HE IS MAD AS FUCK RN.

Quote Chapter 168: "He Yan saw the young man in front of him walk towards her, bending down to look at her. His eyebrows and eyes were extremely beautiful, and he came very close. However, inexplicably, He Yan felt a bit scared. The man’s voice was calm as he spoke, “Do you like it so much, even if it hurts, you still have to persist?” 

He Yan widened her eyes slightly. 

What does he… mean by that? 

He stared at her in silence, his eyes like the night in the city, deep and shallow, clear and light." JDJFKDKD HE IS JEALOUS AGAIN AND MISUNDERSTANDING MY GOD

Quote Chapter 168: "Carefully, He Yan said, “Can’t you say what you have to say in front of me? I promise not to repeat it.” 

If Xiao Jue couldn’t control himself from getting violent, she could help intervene. " DAWGG

Quote Chapter 168 (THEY BETTER NOT CUT THIS FROM THE DRAMA)

"Chu Zhao’s gentle smile gradually faded. After a while, he slowly spoke, “Commander Xiao seems to be possessive.” At these words, Xiao Jue actually laughed. His expression was lazy, and in his dark eyes, there was a sharpness like lightning. Indifferently, he said, “Does Fourth Young Master Chu admit to having intentions to snatch her away?”

“Why use the word ‘snatch’?” The softness in Chu Zhao’s gaze disappeared for the first time, revealing a beast with bared fangs, cold and fierce. “She is your subordinate, not your woman.”

“At least,” the young commander smirked, “she is ‘mine.'” &#*$,#(@(#*#*#(#*#,#,$ OMG

Quote achapter 169: “But now was different from many years ago. She was no longer confused, no longer at a loss. She knew the direction she was heading, confident in every decision she made. Like this, she walked forward without regrets." YAN YAN YOU SRE THE COOLEST.

Quote Chapter 174: "A jade figure dances lightly in the snow, and the flying phoenix startles the clouds as it freely soars,” the black-clad person said, tilting their head while looking at him. “I thought my name was known to everyone in the world.”

In the next chapters we are reminded again of how cruelty, war and men walk hands in hands together. I wonder how this will be approached in the drama.

Quote Chapter 178:

“Those who wield swords should understand where the blade points—to the enemy in front of them or the weak behind them.” 

“You shouldn’t draw your sword against the weak.” 

He Yan raised her eyes abruptly."

He Yan finally discovers the one teaching her swordmanship was Xiao Jue after he heard her say the "you wouldnt draw your sword against the weak". They were always birds of a feather.

[redamity]

Unknown Princess, how you slumber, in a world of lies and dreams. Your perfectly crafted world that falls apart behind the scenes. Like a family shattering.

Guy on the right is my humble interpretation of the father for this fic. They have no first name btw, they’re just “Uchino” for this fic.

Tonight, Musume slept. Soundly. Softly. Early.

It’s been a few days now, and she’s still only got the white dress she came to the door with. Not that Cube had any more clothes than her, though, though Musume at least had other clothes back at home. It’s not like he can easily get them, anyway. The way back won’t be so easily accessible. Possibly for years.

If you asked them last week, Uchino probably would’ve joked about how they wouldn’t even think of their past exploits coming back to haunt them, literally. Why them? Why now? There had to have been better options. Well, they can’t turn them away at this point. Those two are only children, and even if it makes Uchino upset, sending the two to death sounds even worse.

“Ah.. it’s pretty hot here, isn’t it?” Cube mused, fanning himself as he strolls over to the exhausted Uchino. “It’s a very good thing that the young mistress can keep cool, though I fear she might need something more than her bed clothes.”

Why was he up so late? Nevermind. It makes perfect sense. Though Uchino wasn’t too happy about it. Last thing they need is some kid keeping them up at night. “Uh-huh. If you say so. Don’t you have something else for the two of you? Neither of you seem to wear comfortable-looking clothes.” Uchino asked, taking a sip of a cup of water.

“Yes, of course, however, coming to this world was a last-minute decision. The mistress herself didn’t know it.” Cube explained, sitting himself in a chair. “Worry less about me, Master, but Lady Musume mustn’t freeze this winter. Or at the very least, she can’t only wear her uniform.”

It was a bit late to correct him, so Uchino doesn’t. “Yeah yeah, whatever the tiny demon tells me.” They murmured to themselves, with a heavy sigh. “I’ll see what I can do, but keep in mind, I’m a busy person. Besides, shouldn’t it be your job, oh so smart and persistent butler?”

Why would he go outside? That seems like a big risk. Maybe if he had something like a big hat or the like. “… So the cover story is that we’re twins.” He asked, changing course. “I’m not sure how believable that sounds. Really, any story would’ve been better. I’m not sure why you even insist on me being a family member.”

Hasn’t it been two days already? Why is he asking now? Uchino decides they’re done with their water for now. “What else are you two gonna be? I told you, I’m not in need of a butler. If you’re so worried about her, you can go to school with her. For now, go to bed. You still have school tomorrow.”

Uchino got up and left, presumably to their own room, leaving Cube to sit alone at the table. It was a good time to contemplate on the plan again. He hasn’t even told Uchino what had fully happened, has he? Maybe he should, but not right now. There will come a day where he will need to, he knows that much.

Roughly two hours before Musume woke up, Uchino had awoken. If they went to get started now, they might finish before tomorrow! A rarity when you have little free time! And if they wake up now, that’s probably going to be 3 hours of sleep! Just enough.

Unfortunately, right before making it to the door, Uchino tripped on the dog sleeping on their floor, causing them to fall on the ground. “Kh! That hurt, that hurt…” They wince, as they force themselves up. Wait, when did they get a dog?

Just as Uchino tripped and fell, the dog let out a yipe, as if in shock. Quickly, it poofed into thin air, and in its place was not any dog, but Cube (who looked startled.) “Apologies, I’ll try not to get in the way next time.” He managed to say, though his voice was less calm than usual.

“You never told me you were some dog beast…” Uchino comments. Now they’re even more suspicious of the whole thing.

“It’s not something I expected to come up, Master.” Cube said, with a light shrug, though that was a bit difficult given the fact he was still hurt from essentially being tripped over.

“I told you. It’s ‘Father’.” Uchino corrected.

The air got increasingly awkward, both parties just looking at each other. Not to say it wasn’t already awkward before. Perhaps the only way it could get worse is if Musume woke up right now.

“… …” Cube said nothing, holding his stare.

“… …” Uchino said nothing, in disbelief. “… I’m… going to buy stuff at the Craft Store.” They said, pointing at the door.

“… … Have a safe trip, Father.” Cube recited.

So, at the very least, Cube was also a dog. That would’ve been convenient to know, Uchino thinks, as they walked downtown. Though, it isn't as if that would change anything. It doesn’t sit right with them to have essentially a person on a leash. Not for a child like Cube, anyway.

Was Musume also a dog? Is she a cat? They can’t dwell on that too long…

A few hours later, Musume checked the pin in her mirror. All set, perfectly adjusted. Though, as she stumbled to get to the door, she caught a glimpse of her father, seemingly at work, making something.

“Hey, Dad, what’s that? What’s there?” She asked, not even at the door.

Uchino paused. They expected to be done with it already, but they’ve only just now almost finished Musume’s. “I’m making you and your brother more clothes to wear. He’s outside, by the way.” They respond, resuming. The bright colors seemed tacky, but the designs were crafted with love.

“Okay… Well, I’m going now!” Musume waved, heading outside, swinging the door open, and met up with her brother. Why was he ready before her? She didn’t sleep that much, did she?!

She didn’t oversleep at all. The truth was, Cube never went back to sleep. Kind of hard to sleep when your body aches. He didn’t tell her that though. The less she knows, the better.

As the two of them walked to school, Musume thought about everything again. Her head is still so foggy. And she can hardly think right. Today, in fact, it was raining, and it felt as if she’s never felt water in her life.

Well, it was a light drizzle. Just the faintest of water hitting the top of her head. And yet, it still made her feel… What's the word, hydrated? Like a newborn baby experiencing everything for the first time. She could even see the faintest hint of a rainbow, catching her eye.

Unfortunately, school itself was not too interesting. Actually, today they had Physical Education. Something that neither of the siblings really had a good grasp of. For example, their warm up jog had the two of them end up taking a whole extra minute to complete, unlike the red haired kid who ran so fast, it felt like they left fire in their wake.

“That kid’s so cool… Do you think he’ll tell me how he ran so fast?” Musume asked Emily as they took a break. “It looked like the wind propelled him, and he looked like he wasn’t even tired…”

Emily looked with confusion. “He? Oh, you just mean Kobayakawa-San. She looks kind of boyish, but she’s known here for being the best runner of the entire elementary school, even for being a girl.” She told her, with a laugh. “Ahh, but she’s quite hard to get along with. She’s kind of… quirky.”

Soon after, it was time for Lunch, and while Emily and the others left to eat, Musume took the time to look throughout the building. It’s apparently pretty lenient on what kids are allowed to do during free periods. Huh.

Musume looked at the lineup of clubs along the walls. Bright advertisements for all sorts of things. Rhythmic Gymnastics, Computer, Drama… Her eyes lit up at all of the options, though they all had “Middle School” on it.

“What a let down..” She whined. “I wanted to join the drama club!”

For the brief period that was a valuable break (usually used to eat food), using it just to learn there’s nothing for her was a bit of a let down. As she turned to head back to class before it started, the red haired girl from PE came running, with an “‘Ello, Uchino-San!”

Startled, Musume stepped back, almost hitting the wall embarrassingly. “H-hello, good mor- afternoon.” She replied, waving. “What’s your.. name? Wait! You’re.. you’re the girl.. aren’t you Kobayakawa-San?” She stared at the girl for a moment.

“Yup! Kobayakawa Michiru!” She introduced, pointing at herself, and then at the posters. “You’re looking at the older kids’ clubs? They decided to let them hang the posters here since last year! Have you looked into our clubs yet? Any favorites?”

Musume looked at her hands, not knowing what to answer with. “Our… clubs… I didn’t..” She mumbled. “No, I don’t have a favorite. I don’t think I’ll join one.”

Michiru looked up, seeming thoughtful. “Hm~m. Well, there’s only four. Choir, Math, Newspaper, and Track/Field. You should try the Track and Field club!” She decides.

Track and Field?

“I’m not really athletic..” Musume says, sheepishly. “Or at least, I can’t run a lot like I think that club would want me to.”

“If you’re not athletic now, we’ll just help you!” Michiru assures, with a thumbs up. “Well, actually, we kind of need more members or we might get shut down. I’m not sure he wants to do another year, so it’d be nice to have someone cool with me this time!”

Musume didn’t really want to do track, but she also didn’t want to let Michiru down. “Who’s… ah…so you… hm… if it’s that serious… maybe I should..”

Worried, Michiru tried to change the mood. “Wait, it’s not that serious! If the club shuts down, I can always play ball out of school! Don’t feel pressured, join whatever sounds the most fun, okay, Musume? You’d be missing out if you don’t do anything at all!”

She’s using her first name? Already?

Whatever that was, Michiru ran away, and Musume had the whole next class period to think about it.

Well, a club would be two hours, around the same time as her job. So… it should be fine, right? A fun club… but, there were also three others.

She continued to walk throughout the building, blissfully unaware of the bell ringing, and consequently, not being present.

…

The openness of the school, how expansive and lively it was. The accessibility gained from a period of freedom. The chatter of people amongst themselves about the monotonous, the meaningless, at least for Cube.

It was only the second day, and the observations made were… interesting to say the least. No, he needs to stop treating school like some sort of job, or some sort of study, or whatever. It’s school. It’s education. If he was a human, then he would’ve been here already.

Well, he’s not human. Whatever he’s being taught here, he has a grasp of it already. Even if he was human and meant to be here, it’d be more beneficial for him to be working rather than the young princess.

No, she’s not a princess yet, she’s just a little girl, but even still, it shouldn’t have to be Musume working. How anxious he was about her, even if they’re in the same building. For that he is grateful for, but she’s out of sight for now…

Why is she not here yet? It’s class time, and they share the same class. She has to be here. Musume’s late. What if someone took her?! In school? How low. Where is she?! Even as he looks at the ring, it’s staring completely at nothing, the ceiling perhaps. Is she moving? Is she knocked out?! Is she dead?!?

He couldn’t help but continuously look at the all-seeing ring, unable to continuously worry about Musume. After all, that’s basically the only reason he’s here. He’s weird and incredibly inhuman, and the uniform is actively driving him mad.

He could hardly focus on school, his worries regarding young Musume were boiling over. He needed to know she was safe, even as his eyes were fixated on the small jewel that he knew was with Musume.

But Cube couldn’t help but think; There’s somebody here. Someone not meant to BE here, and they’re watching him. Who’s there? What’s going on?!

Looking behind, Cube sees no eyes. Then on his right, no eyes. Left, no eyes. Is he paranoid? Insane? No, is it?!

This paranoia is driving him mad.

“Leave me alone!” Cube suddenly called out, slamming his head against the desk with his own hands. The shock from the impact made him dizzy, but for a moment, he was clear minded.

No, he still has to worry! He can’t let his guard down, what if there’s someone from the other world, heavens forbid, an assassin? No, they wouldn’t send an assassin so soon. If they would’ve wanted her gone, they would have done so yesterday. Besides, they shouldn’t even have access to this world!

Who’s watching him! No, who’s stalking them! All these fears boiled up, driving the young boy mad, fiercely clenching handfuls of hair, trying not to make an outburst.

Too bad it kind of made him look like a weirdo to everyone else.

…

How long has it been?! Musume snapped out of her stare. “Ah! Class?! Did it ring? Everyone- ah!”

Musume scrambled to her own classroom, profusely apologizing as she got to the class. “Ah! Sorry, sorry sorry sorry!”

Ms. Miyoshi looked a bit upset with her, but only through her gaze. She continued teaching as planned.

However, more importantly, Cube’s eyes lit up when seeing Musume. She’s safe, he can stop worrying. It’s all fine… for now, anyway. Perhaps next time this happens, he may have to stick to her. He can’t afford to have Musume go missing. Not even if there’s no threat.

Soon enough, it was the end of class, and all of the kids began to leave, save for the two siblings.

“Uchino-Kun, do you have a preferred Club?” Ms. Miyoshi asked, putting a paper on his desk. “You can choose to go without, however it’s recommended-“

Cube quickly pushed it back to her. “No, I’ll be fine without a club this year.” He responds. “I thank you for the offer, but I cannot join a club due to circumstances beyond my control. I hope you under-“

He paused, noticing Ms. Miyoshi’s face was that of bewilderment. “Yes? Am I… am I saying something offensive?” He asked, worried.

“No, It's quite the opposite.” Ms. Miyoshi explained, taking the paper back. “For a young boy, you talk in such a polite way…” She sighs, clearly wondering what was going on. Between his minor outburst earlier, and now, this kid seemed abnormal. “No matter. I’ll hand this to your sister.”

She walked over to Musume, who was still thinking about the poster, though as she saw the teacher walk up to her, she tried to appear focused, or at least not ditzy.

“Uchino-San, have you decided which club you’ll pick?”

Ms. Miyoshi hovered over Musume’s desk, handing her the paper that she gave to Cube earlier. “You can choose to go without, however it’s recommended that you choose at least one.”

Musume put her hand on the paper, but then recalled Michiru’s offhand comment. Could it really be shut down? With a sigh, she decided her fate. “I’d like to join track and field, teacher.” She finalizes.

“Oh, Track and Field. I’m sure Kobayakawa-San will be enthusiastic. She’s been part of that club since she started here.” Ms. Miyoshi mused, as Michiru scrambled over to Musume’s desk excitedly.

“Musume! You decided to join! We’re going to have a ton of fun, alright? I promise that!” Michiru exclaims, practically dragging Musume from her desk to the open field where they had Physical Education earlier.

Ms. Miyoshi turned to Cube, as well. “Uchino-Kun, what about you? You already told me you wouldn’t be joining any particular Club, so you should be getting up now”

He did?!

“Ah, yes, that is what I said” He stammered for a moment, then he tried to calm himself. “… thank you for informing me, I’ll be on my way. Have a wonderful afternoon, Ms. Miyoshi.”

Two hours without Lady Musume… he could do that. He knows where she is, this time at least. If somethings wrong, he’ll still be around to go save her. After all, he can see everything through the ring.

Still, he can’t be too sure. If something did happen, he’d never forgive himself.

…..

At the field were some other kids, Yamada-San, Takahashi-Kun, and so on. The names of the kids Musume didn’t really know, but it seemed Michiru knew them well. “Al-RIGHT!” She cheers. “For this year, I want every one of us to have waaay better health! We’ll walk out as better versions of ourselves!”

All the kids seemed to take it well, beginning to run laps, but Musume simply stared in fear and disbelief. Was she going to? Probably. She had to.

Her little jelly legs wobbled across the field, as she stumbled like a fool. A fool! Even as Michiru was shouting “Don’t give up yet, Musume!”, it was really hard to continue.

Sweaty, sweaty, SWEATY…

She kept at it, tripping, stumbling, and even thinking of crying. Michiru’s encouragement did not help, but Musume couldn't stop. She wouldn’t stop. She signed up for the club, after all. And Michiru thought she was neat, so she has to be neat!

5:00 pm hit, and Michiru called for attention again. “O-K! Today, we’re finished! We had a good run today. Well, see everyone on Friday!” She says, as everyone starts to disperse.

Musume, too, decided it was time to go, but firstly, she went to Michiru to talk. “Kobayakawa-San?” She tapped, wanting her attention. “Why are you so casual during the meeting?”

Taking a sip from her bottle of water, Michiru laughed at Musume’s question. “Ah, are we not supposed to be happy when working out? A good mood is a good session! That’s rule number 5 of Phys. Ed, Musume!” She answers. “The most important rule of all!”

“Haha…” Musume giggled under her breath. “If that’s what you say. Okay, I’ll see you Friday, Kobayakawa-San.” She gives a wave, starting to walk home, but stopping. She reached her hand around to grasp something, but nothing was there.

“Ah… Kobayakawa-San, can you walk me home?” She asked, motioning for Michiru to come over. “You don’t have to, I just want… ah….” She mumbled.

Michiru takes her hand with a smile. “I don’t mind at all! Hm.. I wonder if— ah, nah! I think he’ll be fine. I don’t have to baby him even after all this time!”

Musume wondered who she was even talking about. A friend, maybe? “Kobayakawa-San, who are you babying?” She asked, as they began to walk.

“Ahh, don’t worry about it! Just someone I know, that’s all. He’s probably fine on his own, we’re not 5 anymore.” Michiru reassured, with a laugh. “If he needed my help, I would’ve got him already!”

Across the bridge, the two girls giggled and chattered about the going on of their lives, or at least Michiru did. Musume awkwardly gave a “Is that so?” here and a “Really?” there.

“Well, actually.” Michiru paused her current story about last summer. “Come to think of it… you just moved here, you and that other kid, Square or something or other… he looks so foreign! What’s with his hair? He looks way too stuffy!”

.. stuffy? What does that even mean?

Musume kept walking, keeping her mouth shut. She didn’t really like being questioned about things like that, she didn’t have a good answer. That’s just the way it is. That’s her brother. He looks normal.

“I think we’re almost there. My home’s just beyond these bunch of trees. I’ll see you tomorrow, Kobayakawa-San.” Musume waves, as the two part ways. She was grateful that the conversation could end early. Otherwise she might be asked more stuff like that.

As Musume arrived at her home, there were two wrapped presents on the table, along with a notecard. Actually, Cube was also there, drinking something (which turned out to be some Tea made prior to Musume’s arrival.) “Welcome home, how was your club meeting?” He asked, setting down his cup.

“It was fine.. Hey, What’s the stuff on the table for?” Musume asked, picking up the notecard to read aloud. “… ‘Musume, Son, The clothes… in the presents… are yours.’… Ah, so this means new clothing!” She puts down the note, and instantly gets to unwrapping.

“Wait, don’t be so—! and there she goes… You’re so eager, Musume...” Cube sighed, opening the other present. Of course, as promised, was clothing. Matching plain pajamas, another set of uniforms, and more uniquely, two quite different sets of clothing.

Musume was excited to see hers, green with bows! It was so cute! She held it against herself for comparison, spun around, and laughed. “This is so…! Bright. Actually, it’s really bright. I love how cute it is!”

“… …” Cube’s enthusiasm was not nearly as much as Musume’s, upon seeing his own clothes. But, it was fine. He’ll fix it on his own time. “Interesting design philosophy.” He notes with a forced smile. “Well, this seems comfortable. I’ll have to try it tomorrow, though. What do you want for dinner?”

“I could go for chicken soup!” Musume chirped happily.

[the--sage--sea]

22 december 2022

it’s been a nice few days. yesterday was our second day skiing and we got to the slopes around 9.30 in the morning. it was so nice going back to the lodge that we used to go to as kids. so nostalgic. even my little brother said he felt nostalgic and that was weird cause i always think of him as a little kid with no real thoughts i guess. we skied for a few hours and then got lunch at a different lodge and went back on the slopes until about 3pm. we got back to our condo as the sun was setting and then went for an early dinner at a really cute godzilla themed japanese restaurant. they were playing some funny japanese pop and rap and there were old godzilla posters all over the walls. so cool. i got a lavender milk tea boba and a california roll. when we got back home it was dark and we went to the hot tub which was like lukewarm and kinda uncomfortable. there were like six drunk college boys in the hot tub and some of them went to the college near my hometown which was so random considering we’re like a seven hour drive away. we watched the first half of inception and then went to bed early. well i guess i didn’t really go to bed early cause i stayed up watching attack on titan lol. i’m rewatching the last half of season 4 cause i genuinely can’t remember if i finished it when it came out.

today we did basically the same exact thing. got to the slopes at around 9am and skied for a few hours then got lunch at the lodge. this guy was barbecuing outside and it smelled so good like campfire smoke. i got pulled pork and coleslaw and mac n cheese. today was probably my favorite day skiing. i went off by myself for a few hours and skied all the slopes that i used to as a kid. it was so nice. i went down my first black diamond and didn’t eat shit so that was cool. we got back to our condo at like 3pm and immediately went in the hot tub which was very hot and very nice. it was about an hour before sunset and the sky was so blue and the clouds had an orange tinge to them. i took a hot shower and finally washed my hair which felt so good and then we went to a cute little pizza place for dinner. we got home around 7 and finished inception. honestly loved it i thought it was so good and the cast is obviously perfect. i have a crush on cillian murphy and tom hardy and joseph gordon levitt so like.. also love that you can hear cillian murphy’s irish accent in some words he says.

i’m a little nervous to fall asleep tonight cause i’ve been having crazy vivid dreams for the past week and watching inception is probably gonna fuck them up even more. i think it’s because i was smoking basically every night since august and i then haven’t smoked at all since friday. whenever i stop smoking like that i get crazy dreams. i kind of love it though. my dreams are really important to me and i love when i can remember them. lately thought they’ve been so long and confusing that it would be way to hard to try to write them down. which is kinda sad.

anyway we’re getting up early tomorrow and driving home so i’m gonna try to read and fall asleep early but i honestly might end up finishing attack on titan cause i only have a few episodes left. we’re picking up my older brother on the drive back so he can be home for christmas and ugh his whole existence gives me anxiety so i’m nervous about that. but i’m excited to be home cause i’m gonna be staying at my dads house by myself and taking care of the animals while he’s away in jerusalem. his house is my happy place and i’m hoping staying there and taking care of the dogs and cats and chickens and walking in the backyard forest will calm down my anxiety. probably not but i might as well hope. also hoping that i get to see my ex while i’m home because i always get sad around christmas and he’s made it better for the past four years. but that’s probably something that i shouldn’t get my hopes up about cause i always get let down when it comes to him. yeah now i’m sad so i’m gonna watch aot.

[neowinestainedress]

I'd like to request a drabble for husband!Jaemin + anal.

w!: anal (+ minor oral sex/rimming(f), squirting)

Jaemin is very caring, and since you’ve been married he is even more. 

He’d never do anything to hurt you, or to put you in an embarrassing situation, but there’s something he can’t stop thinking about it. He thinks about it too often, mostly because he loves your ass too much and his eyes always fall there. 

You know he has a thing for it. Of course, you do, it’s not like you can’t notice his hands touching and squeezing it even when he shouldn’t, like when you were visiting store after store with his mom to prepare everything for the wedding and he was too bored, so your ass seemed to be the most interesting thing he could find. 

But Jaemin never proposed anything else. To be honest, you are quite surprised about that. So when the question finally arrives, you aren’t as terrified as he imagined you to be. 

You are both in bed, clothes already on the floor and bodies grinding against each other for some relief when he pops the question. 

Screw all the plan he had made saying he was going to talk about it to avoid scaring you away. But when you smile and say ‘yes’ straight away, he furrows. 

“You are into it?” He asks. 

“Well, I don’t know, never done that. But we can try.” 

And that’s all he needs to turn you around on your hands and knees. He starts licking your pussy, making your body relax before he collects more wetness and moves up to your ass, coating it with spit and your cum. 

Your head falls forward as the pleasure already feels enough to make you come. But Jaemin has other plans, he doesn’t want to make you come like this, not tonight. So he pulls away, brings his two fingers to your lips and makes you suck until they’re wet before slipping them inside of you. 

“Feels good?” He asks, chest pressing against your back while his lips trail kisses on your shoulder. 

“Mhh, yeah,” you hum, closing your eyes and arching your back. 

“You want more, baby?” He coos. “Want my cock? Are you sure you can take it?” 

“Please, fuck me,” you beg, turning your head just enough to meet his lips in a kiss before he pulls away, leaving you empty again. 

When he slips inside again, it’s with his lube-coated cock, the tip already stretching you enough to make your chest pant and your head fall forward. 

“I’m going slow,” he reassures you, hands firm on your ass as his thumb rubs circles against your skin, encouraging you to relax. And you do, tension decreasing, letting him slide in with ease. “Are you okay, babe?” He asks when he’s halfway in. 

You hum, there’s nothing else you can do, trying to ease down to this new sensation. It feels different, but it’s not bad. And it feels even better when his cock enters completely, filling you exactly how you need it. It’s big, you know it, but the stretch feels so good. 

“Fuck,” you moan, nails scratching the soft sheets under you. 

“Are you hurt?” He questions concerned, but you shook your head. 

“Start moving, please,” you beg. “Need you.” 

And Jaemin obeys, his fingers dig into your soft flesh and his hips start thrusting into you. He tries so hard to keep a slow pace but he can’t do it, not when your ass is bouncing back against him, not when you’re so tight around his cock, not when you’re moaning so prettily. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, throwing his head back, knowing he probably won’t last long. He had been dreaming about this for years, since you started dating, even before you were married. But he never imagined you felt this good. 

And you feel the same. Your pussy is dripping, sticking to your thighs and staining the sheets and your orgasm feels more intense than usual. 

“I’m not gonna last,” you mumble, letting your shoulders meet the mattress and your face flat against the pillow. And at that, Jaemin knows he won’t last either. 

“Come,” he urges you, leaning down so he’s closer to you, hips thrusting fast in and out, knocking the air out of your lungs, so strong that you squirt without even realizing and you hide your face in the pillow. 

But Jaemin’s amazed, and that triggers his orgasm too, spurts of white coating your inside as his hips still move lazily inside you. 

“Fuck,” he groans after pulling out and leaning next to you, pulling your body close to his, his hands caressing your back. “You should’ve told me you loved anal so much, we could’ve tried this before.” 

“Or maybe we could do it more often,” you wink, making him chuckle. 

“We definitely should,” he replies before his lips curl in a smirk. “Another round?”

[todoshotoroki]

𝐼𝑡 𝑊𝑜𝑛’𝑡 𝐻𝑢𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒

Warnings: smut, mutual masturbation, oral f receiving, f reader cheating on Bakugou x pervy Deku. 〤 Minors DNI

Word count: 2.6k

   I shouldn't. That’s exactly what ran through Izuku’s mind as his rough, scarred fingers traveled south, deciding to distract himself by staring up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. What time was it now? If he had to guess, he’d say close to 2 am. I won't. He promised himself he wouldn’t play into this far away dream of his, it only made it harder to look you in the eye. That’s why his fingers played with the hem of his shirt, instead of slipping into the waistband of his shorts like they usually did at this time of night. But fuck, he really wanted too.

   It was difficult enough to resist his sexual fantasies about you, but deciding to become roommates with one of his best friends, and childhood crush, only made it that much harder, and he wondered why he put himself in these situations. Oh yeah. That's why.

   He could hear them. Your moans through the wall.

   The 2 bedroom apartment you two shared had paper thin walls, or it could have been that Deku purposely aligned his bed to be on the same wall as yours. Either way, You had a boyfriend. But still, every thought that ran through his mind was dirty.

   If only Kacchan knew of the things Izuku Midoryia thought of at night, there would be nothing stopping the explosive blonde from trying to kill him.

   Though Deku could feel his resolve slipping, the further his fingers slipped past the waistband of his shorts, the less he found himself caring. He knew it was wrong, he had absolutely no right to invade your privacy like this, especially just to further fuel his own addiction that was you. But all of those thoughts that had at first been restraining Izuku from taking things further, slowly morphed into guilt as he began to accept the fact that he was simply too deeply in love with you.

    Although he knew he’d forever be stuck in the friendzone, he couldn't help feeling blessed to be able to live with you. It made it easier to imagine spending your life together, waking up and having breakfast with you, starting your day just to come home to each other at night. It was only a shame that he could never wake up with you in his bed, but he didn't want to be too greedy. There had to be a line drawn somewhere.

   That line was drawn when Katsuki started showing up more often, about a month ago.

   Ever since then, the distance between the two of you was slowly, but gradually increasing. Izuku couldn't stand it, it physically hurt him not to see you every day. It pained him to know that the moaning on the other side of the wall wasn't because of him. Sure, Katsuki wasn't here tonight, you had to be touching yourself. But still, he wanted it to be him.

   Fuck, he could make you feel so good if you let him.

   On the one night Deku did overhear you and Bakugou having sex, he could tell you weren't enjoying yourself. He was sure you didn't like it rough, or at least, that’s what he told himself as he listened to your high pitched whines that night, engraving them into his memory. Given the chance, Izuku would take his very precious time with you while savoring every moment. “Y/n..” His fingertips grazed the wall as he whispered, as his dominant hand fully disappeared into his shorts.

   He wondered what you were thinking about. Was there any part of you that ever pictured it to be him with you in those scenarios? Did you think of him when your finger’s ended up not being able to reach to places he could?

   “Hff, hmph, mmh” The sounds you made grew a bit louder, and Izuku finally allowed himself the pleasure of wrapping his hand around his cock.

   You were trying to be quiet, he could hear your beautiful voice being muffled. Were you biting onto your pillow to conceal your moans? Please don't.. Please, louder, for me.. He always knew you were dirty, there was no way he wasn't crossing your mind right now. Even if all it ended up being trying not to let him hear you, he was still on your mind in this exact moment, and that was enough for Izuku’s cock to throb painfully hard in his pants.

   “Fuck, fuck, shit.. Mmph”

   Izuku pushed aside every remaining bit of guilt for the moment, and pulled his cock free from its confinements. You were getting close, he had spent too much time belittling himself for invading your privacy, so much so that he had to speed up the movements on his cock to catch up. He let out a low groan, and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth.

   His eyes closed, and his head leaned back into the pillows. He felt like he was high on every noise you made, so it didn't take him long to get close enough to his orgasm. Now, all he had to do was wait for you.

   Fuck, he’d wait as long as it takes.

   The rough hand tugged at the veiny length of his cock, using his index finger to tease the head of his cock and smear precum up and down his shaft. He could picture it, you in your bed just inches away from him, your back arching so beautifully. Izuku wondered what would happen if he accidentally let your name slip from his mouth. It was possible you could hear his moans, after all, he could hear yours.

   His hand gripped tighter around his cock, quickening its pace at the thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tonight just had to be full of slip ups, he felt as if his body was completely throwing away its self restraint. “Fuck, Y/n” It was loud too. He didn't mean it, he wasn't supposed to let the intrusive, impulsive, naughty thought win. The second he did, he slapped his free hand over his mouth as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Instant regret. You’d probably tell him you're moving out tomorrow now.

   “Izuku-” You were cumming.

   Midoryia couldn't even begin to believe his ears as he came all over his chest, within seconds from the shockwave your voice had sent through him. The hand at his mouth fell to his side, desperately clutching onto the sheets beneath him for some form of support. “Shit- you- Y/n, you sound so pretty” He was sure if you hadn't heard him before, then you had to have heard him now. “So sexy, Angel”

   Izuku’s mind ran rampant with all the possibilities that could have been the reason for you to moan his name, but he found it hard to focus as the floodgates of his emotions were ripped open. Were you thinking of him beforehand? Had you been holding it back and it accidentally slipped out? Did you hear him and then fucking moan for him?

   Was it him saying your name that made you cum?

   He had to know.

   Deku didn't have time to think over his actions, nor did he realize you had suddenly went quiet on the other side of the wall. He was already out of bed, his feet stomping across the floor as he swung his door open. He stood right outside your bedroom door, staring at it while panting for breath as the rest of his face flushed red.

   “Y/n” His voice was a cautious, but gravelly whisper. He thickly swallowed down his nerves, and rested his forehead up against the door with a ‘thump’.

   It was silent still, forcing Izuku to overthink this entire situation. Did you really say his name? Or had he been so far into his fantasy that he just happened to make it up?

   Did he fuck up?

   He listened to the soft patter of your feet against the carpet, and he stepped back to see the door swing open in front of him. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes slowly widened as he licked his suddenly very dry lips at the irresistible sight. You stood in front of him, your hair messy, your cheeks flushed just as red as his. The only thing stopping Izuku from seeing your naked body was a thin, white sheet that you had bunched around your torso that just covered below your hips.

   Neither of you could say a word, Deku couldn't tear his gaze away from you, and you couldn't look him straight in the eyes, choosing to glance at everything but him.

   Slowly, experimentally, Izuku stepped forward to see if you would choose to let him into your bedroom or not. His heart was racing so quickly, he wondered if you could hear it or not, because at the moment, it was the only sound that filled his ears.

   His mouth ran dry once again as your grip on the door handle tightened, but you stepped to the side, allowing your roommate into your personal space. He closed the door, and turned to look at you. “Y/n..” He began, taking another step forward. Both of you were already sweating, and as Deku lifted his hand to cup your cheek and force you to look at him, the temperature of the room only grew.

   “P-please, don't think any less of me” His eyes scanned over your face once more, taking in your shocked expression before closing his eyes and passionately pressing his lips to yours. He knew this was all wrong, Kacchan was in love with you, he had to listen to his friend rant about how he wasn't sure about confessing to you or not. And when he finally did, Deku felt like he was pulling the rug beneath his feet.

   He didn't care right now.

   It didn't matter when you were in his arms, his mouth pressed into yours.

   Midoryia opened his mouth to run his bottom lip against yours, begging for entry as he slowly began to back the two of you up until the back of your knees hit the bed. The sound of wet lips slapping against each other was enough to fill the void of everything left unsaid, because Izuku’s teeth tugging desperately on your bottom lip felt too damn good.

   As your back fell into the messy, fluffy comforter underneath you, Deku’s hands landed on your hips, shoving you backwards until your head hit the pillows. He hovered over you the entire time, afraid to detach your lips from his and let you get away. As you reached your destination, your hands reached up to grip at his tousled green locks, gripping onto them tightly to pull his face away from yours.

   Izuku let out a small whine of protest as your lips parted with his, but with the way your hand pulled at his hair made everything in his body tell him to listen to you. “Izuku..” Your eyebrows furrowed, and your bottom lip was caught harshly between your teeth. Deku watched your expressions with a dreamy sigh through half-lidded eyes. “Talk to me baby”

   He leaned down, ghosting his lips along your jaw before settling a wet, sloppy one right behind your ear. “Tell me what you wanna say, I'll listen” He reveled in the way your eyes closed, and your mouth fell open as if you wanted to respond, but the feeling of his tongue and teeth scraping against your jawline was too distracting. He didn't even realize it when his hand ghosted up your inner thighs, slowly inching the sheet up your legs.

   “W-we shouldn't do this- what about- about Katsuki”

Ouch.

   Deku closed his eyes, slowly taking a brief inhale as he ceased his attack of sloppy kisses. “Forget about him” He whispered in your ear, nudging his nose against your jawline affectionately. “He won't know, he doesn't ever have to know” He tried his best to sound comforting, gentle, affirming.

   Maybe you just needed a little encouragement. He needed to show you what he could make you feel. “I just wanna make you feel so good Angel…” He confessed, his hand slipping underneath the sheet to ghost along your very sticky thighs. “Your already soaking wet for me, so dirty Y/n”

   He started his kisses once more, this time they began on your neck, slowly trailing down to your shoulder, then your collarbone. Soft little gasps left your lips, a fresh wave of cold air hitting you with each kiss of his that drifted lower than the last, before his lips ghosted along the sheet that had just barely been able to hide your nipples. “I just want to please you, pretty girl”

   “Zu-Izuku but i-i-”

   “Shh, baby, let me be your secret sin” His teeth gripped the sheet, just barely tilting his head back enough for it to fall down your sides when he let it go from his mouth. He groaned at the sight of your hard, perky nipples right in front of him. He looked up at you in a fuzzy haze, a small bit of drool falling off his tongue and onto your nipple as he panted from above you.

   “Y/n.. please, you have total and complete control of me..” Deku’s eyes travelled from your breasts to the lusted over look in your eyes. He could see how badly you wanted him, and was clear about how much he needed you at this point. He had come this far, to turn back and act like nothing happened now would kill him. “So just, let me show you how good you could have it with me”

   You let out a strangled, conflicted whimper in response, your body squirming nervously under your roommate’s intense gaze. “Okay, ‘Zuku- hhnmh-” Midoryia couldn't wait any longer, the second the new nickname fell from your lips, his tongue ran across your nipple that had already been soaked with his spit from simply hovering over you. You let out a gasp as his teeth gently nipped at the bud. “N-no marks, can’t let.. Him see- fuck, Izuku”

   Deku’s hand yanked the sheets from your body, completely airing you to the cold. No marks. He knew that, after all, it was his life on the line here. But something about you bringing him up again made him want to clear your head of any other thoughts but him. “Your skin is delicious” You looked embarrassed at his praise, and it only pushed him to go further.

   He looked up at you through dark, hooded green eyes as his tongue traced a line down the middle of your stomach. It was beautiful, better than his imagination as he felt you arch your back to press further into his mouth the closer he got to the precious place between your legs. He had yet to break eye contact, taking your legs and hiking them over his shoulders.

   His hot breath fanned across your clit, forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek in embarrassment and look away from the man between your thighs. “Hey” You yelped as his sharp teeth gently nipped the skin on your leg. “Don't look away from me, watch what I can do to you” As you met his gaze again, he leaned forward with a devious smile, and flattened his tongue to lick a long stripe up your sopping clit. “What I can do for you”

   Deku was more than satisfied to be between your legs, he knew he could die here, and if Kacchan ever did find out, Izuku would still be left with no regrets. His only regret would have been leaving this world without at least getting to taste you.

   “ ‘M gonna make you cum all over my face Angel, ‘m gonna make you mine forever”

   Yeah, with your legs wrapped around his head, suffocating him as you moaned and arched into his tongue and yanked at his curls like this, Izuku Midoriya would die a happy man.

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♡

© all copy rights reserved, do not claim, copy, or repost

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that I know of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you still friends with them?”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

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

“You like me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, I’m in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry: Is that even a question?!

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

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

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

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

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

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

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

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

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

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

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

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

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

“Harry! Please!”

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

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

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

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

“Mm, good idea.”

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

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

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

“I’ve just been thinking.”

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

“About what you said about your parents.”

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

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

“There’s a reason for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what if they don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

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

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

And then there’s the absolute worst.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you end the call.

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

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

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

“Halo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

Hi Taylor!

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

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

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

“He… pulled out for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

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

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

“I do,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

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

[animeomegas]

Sorry, but now I'm imagining little Sasuke trying to sneak into Itachi and his alpha's shared bed and sleeping between them in order to "protect" his big bro from his alpha. And when either of them(most likely Itachi) kindly refuses him, he pulls 'but I had a nightmare' card 😂

(This is phenomenal, anon, thank you so much for sharing. I honestly am so pleased for an excuse to write more of little!Sasuke’s shenanigans with his older brother’s mate.)

Sasuke concocts many plans to try and separate his beloved brother and the evil alpha who is taking advantage of him.

And sure, none of them have worked so far, but this one is going to work for sure!

He’s going to stop that alpha from taking his brother’s innocence! Because Iruka told them all about gross stuff that couples do, and Sasuke didn’t totally get it, but he certainly isn’t going to let someone do that to his brother, no way! (You’re too late Sasuke, I’m sorry to have to tell you this…)

Hence his plan:

He’s going to get in the middle of them at night! There’s no way that won’t work!

So, he goes to talk to Itachi!

…

“Big brother,” Sasuke draws out, trying to be as cute as possible so Itachi can’t say no. “C-Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Itachi raises a single eyebrow but turns to give Sasuke his full attention.

“Why?”

“Because… er… because Kakashi sensei says we’re going on a mission soon and I’ll miss you,” Sasuke let the pride of coming up with a plausible response smooth over the embarrassment of asking such a thing.

Itachi startles slightly, but smiles.

“We will have plenty of time to see each other in the daytime, little brother, and I will walk you to the village gate to say goodbye. Kakashi senpai is a very capable shinobi, so you shouldn’t worry too much.”

Itachi then pokes Sasuke on the forehead and leaves him scowling at the ruined fragments of his plan.

Oh well, on to plan two.

…

Sasuke’s second plan is a lot more embarrassing, so it was his second plan for a reason, but desperate times call for desperate measure.

He can handle some embarrassment if it means protecting his big brother, he’s a shinobi after all!

And so, plan two commences!

…

Steeling himself, Sasuke knocks on his brother’s bedroom door where he and his alpha are currently staying. Sasuke had gone upstairs a few hours ago and pretended to sleep, but Itachi and his alpha had only gone to bed about twenty minutes ago, so it was the perfect time!!

*knock knock*

Sasuke hears some shuffling and muffled swearing from behind the door before a vaguely irritated Itachi’s voice calls him in. Sasuke must have been just in time! Itachi sounds irritated, that stupid alpha must have upset him!

Creaking open the door, Sasuke steps in.

“Big brother,” Sasuke calls, trying to pretend to be sleepy. “Can I sleep in here tonight? I had a nightmare.”

Sasuke rubs his eyes for a moment for effect before looking up to his brother to see his reaction.

Itachi narrows his eyes at him like he knows something is going on, but Sasuke just smiles sweetly in return.

Itachi’s evil alpha clears their throat awkwardly.

“I’ll just be in the bathroom,” they say, before hobbling to the bathroom, and they’re holding a pillow in front of them for some reason. Oh well, it doesn’t matter, he managed to scare them away for now at least.

“What game are you playing, Sasuke?” Itachi’s firm voice brings Sasuke out of his musings.

“I’m not doing anything, I just had a nightmare,” Sasuke starts before noticing something was different with Itachi. “Hey, your hair is all messed up, what happened?”

Itachi’s face takes on an uncharacteristic blush.

“Nothing, it’s just… messed up from laying down, that’s all.”

“And… is that a bruise on your neck!? Did that awful person hurt you? Tell me and I’ll get cousin Shisui to help me deal with them!”

Itachi blushes even more and covers his neck with his shirt.

“No, it was just an accident, Sasuke,” he says, but Sasuke can tell he’s lying, that awful alpha probably did it to him! “What are you doing in here anyway, and tell the truth this time?”

“What?” Sasuke gasps in fake offence. “I already told you, I had a nightmare.”

“Uh huh,” Itachi says in a way that makes it obvious he doesn’t believe Sasuke and has run out of patience. “Go back to bed, Sasuke.”

At that moment, the alpha comes out of the bathroom, pillow gone now, and kneels down beside Sasuke.

“You had a nightmare, little one?”

Sasuke bristles at the tone and the condescending name.

“Yeah,” he deadpans. “You died.”

“Aww,” you coo. “That’s what made you upset?”

“No, dream me laughed so hard I hurt myself.”

“Sasuke!” Itachi reprimands from his position sitting up in bed. “That is not a kind thing to say to people. It’s past your bedtime, go to bed.”

Sasuke huffs.

“Fine, but you have to tuck me in!”

“Sasuke,” Itachi starts, exasperated.

“Yeah, Itachi,” the alpha laughs. “Go and tuck him in.”

Itachi glares at his alpha, nervously fiddling with the blankets pooled around his waist.

“Go and get into bed, Sasuke, I’ll be through in a minute.”

“No,” Sasuke objects, not wanting to leave his brother alone with that alpha anymore than necessary. “Come now.”

Itachi purses his lips, the flush returning, while his alpha giggles in the corner.

“Yeah, Itachi,” they grin. “Why not stand up and go now?”

“You’re not helping,” Itachi hisses.

The alpha laughs one more time before putting a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder and leading him out of the room, despite Sasuke’s protests.

“Go to bed and Itachi will be through in a minute.”

Just before the door closes, Sasuke sees the alpha throw a pair of pyjama trousers at Itachi. Why on earth would Itachi need two pairs of pyjama trousers? This alpha is weird and obviously bad news.

Sasuke would just have to make his case when Itachi came to tuck him in.