#im just someone whos been here for a minute and seen the questions being asked

[vigilvntes]

Walk Me Home - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: this is just a lil bit of fun. i think it was a request, someone asked for batman x civilian!reader with the prompts "you're pretty"/ "you're drunk" + "can i hold your hand?" so this is what came out of my brain :) might do a part 2 at some point <3 im literally about to see the batman again in like 5 minutes so like ,,, good luck to my brainrot <3

Warnings: mentions of violence/harassment, mentions of alcohol / being drunk, language, batguy is quiet and reader is a mess (if i'm not writing adrian im writing an adrian core reader ok that's who i am <3), not proof read or beta read but we die like men! <3

Word Count: 3k+ bc i have no self control!

Summary: you get escorted home by none other than Gotham's own protector.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

The streets are quiet, except for the echoing of heavy boots against the sidewalk followed by the frantic clicking of your heels.

He walks so damn fast. Which shouldn't surprise you, really. He probably has better things to be doing, and the light shining in the sky is proof of that. It's not that you're not grateful for the escort home, you're just not entirely sure why he's using his time to walk drunk you back to their place.

He'd helped you out with some creep in a back alley — and by ‘helped you out’ you mean he kicked ten bells of shit out of the guy in five seconds flat and left him incapacitated on the ground. It was impressive, actually. He helped you up, you said your 'thank you’, and assumed that would be the end of it. You assumed wrong.

It's not your fault that you just so happened to be heading in the same direction. You tried to be quiet, to keep your distance to allow him to disappear into the night, but your clicking heels and blurry vision from the numerous shots and cocktails you'd downed at the club made that a difficult task. He didn't turn around, didn't question why you were following him. He didn't say anything, actually.

But he stopped walking when he came to the end of the street, which made you stop too. He was silent, but he turned his head and glanced back at you, and you felt yourself panic.

“I— Shit. I'm sorry. I just live this way. I wasn't following you, I promise.” You reassured him quickly.

He probably didn't need your reassurance, you had quite literally just watched him take down a man in two swift punches. He could kick your ass if he wanted to. “I'm gonna take a right here, and… leave you alone forever, now. My place is like, five minutes away, so — Oh, okay. You're going right, too. That's— Yeah, perfect.” He'd already set off walking before you could finish your sentence, leaving you in the dust.

So now you're trailing behind him, feeling like you're running a marathon as he attempts to cover four miles in under a minute. Okay, maybe you're exaggerating, but you really can't keep up with him. He's like Lightning McQueen if Lightning McQueen was real, not a car, and kind of goth. That thought makes you smile to yourself.

“Hey, uh… Batman?” You call out. No response. Okay. “Alright, uh… Vengeance? Do you still use that one? I haven't really been keeping up, so…?” No response, again. You figure he doesn't go by Vengeance anymore. “Look, uh— Mr. Batman-Vengeance-…Dude-…Guy?” Wow. That's… wow. You make a mental note to slap yourself for that one later. “Could you slow down a little? Please? You're walking like, really fucking fast.” You feel slightly guilty for asking him to slow down. From what you've seen, he's a busy guy, and he probably has other places to be. But then you remember that you never asked him to walk you home, he made the choice for himself. So you feel less guilty.

He stops walking, and you stop too, almost in shock that he actually listened to you. You're still for a few seconds, and then you see his head turn, and you notice that he's glancing back at you expectantly. And then you remember that you asked him to slow down so you could catch up, and that he's stopped for your benefit. You break out into a jog— well, you try, anyway, one hand wrapped around the strap of the bag on your shoulder. Your heels are scraping against the pavement and you're one wrong move, one wayfaring stone on the pavement away from falling flat on your face. You keep your eyes locked on the ground, only looking up once his boots come into view.

You sigh in relief. “Fuck, man. You're speedy.” You reach out and grab his gloved hand. “You could probably clear the 100m in like, seven seconds flat. Which is cool, by the way." You reassure, nodding your head. "No hate to you.” You walk ahead, but you're stopped dead in your tracks when you realise you're pulling against his heavy, very much unmoving weight. You furrow your brows and tug on his hand, trying to prompt him to move, but he doesn't. So, you turn to him. “Hey, why aren't you—”

His jaw is tense, and you can see the way the veins in his neck are straining under the pressure. You can't quite make out whether he's angry, and it's freaking you out. He doesn't make eye contact with you, but he's looking down at something. You follow his line of sight, casting your eyes in the direction you think he's looking until you see your hand wrapped around his fingers, and it all makes sense.

You let go of his hand like it's hot coal, looking at him with wide eyes. “Shit— I… I'm sorry.” He clenches his fist, so hard that you can hear the leather of his gloves squeaking. “I don't— I'm not sure why I—…. Shit.” You really don't know why you took his hand. It was a mindless decision on your part, really. Something you'd do to a friend or a man you're drunkenly stumbling home with. But he's not a friend, nor is he a date or someone you're taking home to bed. He's literally Gotham’s protector. He's Vengeance or Justice or… Batman. He's Batman. And you thought it'd be a good idea to hold his hand. Fucking idiot. “I'm sorry. That was… that wasn't cool of me. I should've asked first— I mean, I shouldn't have done it in the first place, but I definitely should've asked.” You let out an awkward laugh before falling quiet. He's staring at you. Actually, his eyes are flitting between your face and his hand, which is still somewhat outstretched and balled into a fist. You don't know what comes over you, and you feel so fucking stupid for it, but you're already in too deep to be able to stop yourself. “Can I… Can I hold your hand?”

That crippling, awkward silence takes ahold of you, suffocating you like a python constricting it's prey. Your cheeks heat up, you're sure they're bright red, and you can't even bring yourself to meet his gaze. God, you're so fucking stupid. So awkward, and stupid, and weird. Which is saying a lot, considering you're stood not even a metre away from a guy who's dressed like an armoured bat. You're just about to back away slowly under his intense stare, to walk yourself home so you can wallow in your own embarrassment in the comfort of your bed, when you hear the leather squeak again.

When you look down, you're surprised to see that his hand is no longer clenched. His fingers are spread apart, almost… inviting. He's still tense, and he won't look at you, but you think he's silently telling you that you can hold his hand. Now you're wondering whether you should take his hand. It would be useful, he's a fast walker and you'd like to keep up pace. But you're also sure that he doesn't want to hold your hand, so maybe it'd be easier to refuse and then the two of you can walk separately again. But then would it be rude to refuse him now? Fuck, you have no idea but he's staring at you now, probably waiting for you to say something or do anything.

So in a split second decision, you reach out and take his hand again, nodding your head just once to affirm your choice.

He looks between your face and your intertwined fingers for just a moment before he sets off walking again. At first, he tries to maintain his pace from before, but now that he has extra weight latched on to him (you) he seems to find that difficult to manage. You're still lagging behind, practically jogging, struggling to keep up even though your hand is in his and he's pulling you along with him. You're surprised you haven't fallen flat on your face yet. Eventually, he gives it up, and brings himself down to a speed that works for both of you. It's not too slow, not too fast. It's good enough for you to steadily maintain in your heels, and you don't feel like you're going to be pulled to the floor at any given moment.

The two of you are quiet, aside from the occasional ‘take a right here’ or 'it's a left here’ coming from you. There's not much to be said, after all. He's a masked vigilante-turned-hero and you're holding his hand for no particular reason. Well, there is a reason, it's just not a very good one. You're sure you could have managed stumbling behind him alone.

Your head is still spinning from the drinks, and you feel yourself knock against him a few times as you walk down street after street, the cold armour of his suit pressing against you and covering you in goosebumps. Every time you stumble in to him, you mumble a quiet apology, and he remains silent. Which is why it comes as a surprise to you when—

“How much further?”

His sudden decision to cut through the silence makes you jump, and you whip your head around quickly. You can't quite make out whether that voice is his. It has to be, obviously. There's no one else around. But it's so soft and quiet that you think there's no way it could have possibly come from him. But it did. You're staring up at him so obviously, with the most in incredulous look on your face. “Oh. You talk.” You say eventually. He tilts his head down, and you see his eyes glance from left to right, almost in confusion, before they land on you again. “Shit. Sorry. That was rude. I just— I don't know. I assumed you're mute, or something.”

A beat of silence. Then, “It's selective.”

You nod slowly, a small smile on your lips, “And you make jokes.”

“I wasn't joking.” He mumbles under his breath, but you hear him.

“Well then, I'm flattered that you're talking to me.” You tease. You're trying to break the tension, just a little.

“How much further?” He repeats, turning his attention back to the street ahead.

“Uh… Like, maybe five minutes.” You answer slowly.

You swear you hear him scoff. “You said your place was five minutes away ten minutes ago.”

Wow. Alright. You fight the urge to bite back, to tell him that he didn't have to walk you home and that you're perfectly capable of making your own way from here. But you're not brave enough for that, and after the incident in the alley, you're grateful for his help and his company. So instead, you sigh, and say, “Yeah. I don't know why I said that. I think I— I don't know. I didn't want you to think I was following you. And I didn't wanna inconvenience you. So I just… said I lived close by. And then you started walking the same way, and you kinda never left. So I'm pretty much still inconveniencing you.” You give him an awkward, thin lipped smile.

“You're not.” He mumbles. It's barely audible, and you're not sure if you're meant to hear it, but you do.

You fall into silence again, though you're finding it hard to maintain. You're buzzing from the conversation you just had with him. It's thrilled you to your core and you want to keep talking to him. Apparently it's not enough to be walking hand in hand with him like some strange couple returning from a 2000s pop vs 90s grunge rock club night. So you decide to make conversation, as awkward as it may be.

“So…” You start, and he looks over at you immediately, caught off guard. “Is that like… your real voice?”

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to figure out how to respond to you. Eventually, “Yeah.”

“Oh. That's cool.” He's still staring down at you, and you can see by the way his lips are parted that he's totally and utterly confused. You are too, honestly. “I was just asking because, uh… y’know, guys in movies and… other heroes, they usually have those weird, gravelly voices. Like they make their voices deeper. If you were in a movie I imagine you'd sound like, uh,” you clear your throat, dropping your voice, “Hi, I'm Batman. I live in Gotham and I walk drunk people home in my spare time.” You laugh at yourself, but he doesn't look so amused. Oh for fucks sake. Why did you do that? You don't even have an explanation for why you thought that was a good idea. You just keep digging yourself in deeper.

Your smile drops. He's quiet. You're quiet. He's staring at you. You're staring at him. You're not sure what to do, and honestly you're considering just dropping to the floor, curling up and dying right then and there. But then you see the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, and he turns his head away from you, and suddenly you don't feel so embarrassed. It's encouraging to you. So you decide to continue.

“I'm glad you don't sound like that, though.”

“Why?” He responds quicker than you expect him to, and it throws you off for just a moment.

“Oh. Well… I don't know. I just don't think it'd suit you. I like your voice. It's really nice.” Soft and soothing, strangely. Completely opposite from what you thought he'd sound like. It suits him, in a weird way. He's the people’s protector, and you can understand why, because everything about him just seems so… trustworthy.

It's not just his voice that you like, though. As you walk down the street, trying your best to keep your eyes firmly trained forwards, you glance at him occasionally, and you come to the conclusion that you really, really like his face, too. The more time you spend looking at him, the more attractive he becomes to you. Sure, you can't see half of it, but that's not going to stop you from admiring him. You think you're being subtle, that you're stealing glimpses of him, but really you're staring right at him. And although he's not looking at you, he can feel your eyes on him.

“What?”

That's the second time he's made you jump, but it's a sure-fire way to break you from your Batman’s-absolutely-incredible-jawline-induced trance. You blink hard and shake your head. “Sorry.” You cant even begin to count how many times you've said sorry tonight. “You just have… a really nice face. I know I can't see much of it, but you have a really, really,” you pause, “strong jawline. And your eyes are really beautiful. I bet you have a cute nose, too. Soft lips. You're just… you're really pretty.” You admit. Honestly, you don't have it in you to be embarrassed or to cringe at yourself anymore. The hint of a smile he gave you just a minute ago was a major confidence boost to you. The alcohol helps too.

His jaw tenses, and he's trying so hard to look anywhere but at you. You're starting to wonder whether you've made him feel incredibly uncomfortable. But then you swear you feel him squeeze your hand, and although the streetlights are dim and barely illuminating what you can see of his face, you swear there's a tinge of pink to his cheeks now. “You're drunk.” He mumbles.

“And you're pretty.” You retort.

“Drunk.”

“Pretty.”

“Drunk.”

“Pre— Oh. This is me.” You say, stopping suddenly in front of the familiar small gate, and he stops too. There's disappointment laced in your tone. You don't want him to go just yet, but you're home. He's done what he intended to do, and he'll leave just as quickly as he arrived. You sigh, “Well, this has been… nice. Really. Uh, thank you. I really appreciate what you did for me.” You press your lips together. It's so quiet between the two of you now, and you take that as your queue to leave. “Okay. Good night. And thank you, again.” You smile at him and untangle your fingers from his. Maybe you're crazy, but you think you feel him grip on to your hand for just a moment longer.

Oh, fuck. He can't do this to you. Not when you're drunk and your feelings are so, so vulnerable. You have to walk away. You have to remind yourself that he's just being nice, that you don't know him, and that you'll never see him again after this. That one kind of stings, and you're not entirely sure why. No. Snap out of it. He's literally a stranger. You don't know him. But he's been so nice to you and tolerated all of your annoying, drunken rambles. And he's so pretty, and— No. Just walk away.

You take a deep breath and turn away from him, pushing your gate open and making your way through. You're doing so well. Just don't look back. You don't need to look back. It's okay. You leave your gate to shut on its own, and you're listening out for the familiar clang of metal, but it never comes. Instead, you hear heavy footsteps. You whip your head around and he's there, closing the gate gently, about to follow you up the garden path and the flight of concrete stairs that leads to your house. “W— I'm… What are you doing?”

“Walking you home.” He answers. His voice is steady and moderated, as it has been all night, but there's something in his tone that screams ‘duh, isn't it obvious?’.

“But I am home.” You tell him, pointing over your shoulder at your house.

“Not all the way home.”

“I— I think I'll be—…” You stop yourself there, glancing down at the ground then up at him. “You know what, I might need a little help up the stairs.” You smile at him and offer your hand to him. There's a second of hesitation, but he takes your hand and the two of you make your way up the path. His boots, as loud and intimidating as they may be against the concrete, have become almost a… a comfort to you now. It's probably too soon to call it that, but you like hearing his footsteps in tandem with your own. You ascend the small flight of steps that lead up to your porch slowly, with little to no problem. You wobble on your heels a few times, but he's there to steady you, so it's okay.

Soon enough, you're at your front door. You drop his hand and dig around for your keys in your bag (not without the classic ‘oh shit, have I lost my keys?’ moment), pulling them out and unlocking your door. Now you're really not sure what to do. You're home. You're safe. He's walked you here. You have your hand wrapped around the door handle, and he's still here, waiting behind you for…. What? You're not so sure.

You turn around slowly, nervously. You feel like your heart is going to jump right out of your chest. “I… Uh, do you wanna like, come in?” You ask quietly. “For a drink, or something. I think I have like— I don't know. A few beers in the fridge.” Did you seriously just ask him to come in ‘for a drink’? Maybe you meant it literally, but you know what it implies. It's never just a drink. And you know that.

“I don't think you need anymore drinks.” He says.

You can't even bring yourself to be offended. In fact, you're relieved that he took your words so literally instead of considering the implications. You let out an airy laugh, dropping your head, “Yeah. You're probably right. Ignore me."

Silence takes over once again. Fuck. You hate the silence. You're staring at each other, both completely still. It's weirdly tense, and you're unsure as to why that is. “I'm… I'm gonna head inside.” You mumble, though you make no effort to move, or to push the door handle down. You're completely frozen to the spot.

You're surprised when he moves first, taking a step towards you. Fuck. Oh fuck. What is he doing? He's standing over you now, towering above you, actually. You're eye level with the bat right in the middle of his chest plate, and for a moment you're completely transfixed by the steady rise of his chest. You're not intimidated by how close he is, by how he's looming above you. He's done nothing but make you feel safe the entire time you've been with him. It's okay. He's close to you, and that's okay. You're okay. You actually... like being this close to him. He's crowding you against your door, pressing your back against the cold wood, but you don't care. You like it.

All you can hear is your breathing, shaky and ragged. It's all you can focus on. You feel like you're losing your mind, waiting for him to do something— anything. To make any move at all. When you finally gather the courage to look up at him through your lashes, you realise he's staring down at you. His lips are parted, and his eyes are lidded from what you can tell. You have no idea what he wants, what he's doing, but he looks so pretty. You want to reach up and remove the mask. Not because you're desperate to know who he really is, because you truly don't care, but because you want to see all of his pretty face like this.

He leans down slightly, and you feel yourself start to panic just a little bit. Your faces are so close now. Just one jolt upwards from you, just one more slight bend of his knees and you'd be kissing the Batman. Holy—

Holy shit. Is he going to kiss you? Is he— Fuck. Will he kiss you? He's— He's going to kiss you. Holy fuck. He’s— “Are we gonna kiss now?” You blurt out, the tension finally becoming too much. Your question is followed by a prolonged moment of silence.

His reply comes in the click of your door latch, and the slight creak of hinges coming from behind you.

He opened your fucking door.

You're completely taken aback. Confused and reeling because… what the fuck? Did that just happen? You can add Batman being a fucking tease to the list of things you didn't expect to happen or find out tonight. Fuck. You probably have the dumbest look on your face right now. You're completely lost for words. Judging by the way his mouth is opening and closing ever so slightly, you think he feels the same.

“Good night.” He mumbles, stepping away from you, and you silently mourn the loss of his body close to yours. Maybe it's the drink talking, but you miss it already.

He's about to turn away from you, but you reach out and take his hand in yours. You smile at him, squeezing his hand gently. “Good night. And thank you, again.” He nods in acknowledgement, and you loosen your grip, allowing him to make his way make his swift exit, though your hands are still touching until the moment you're no longer in reach. You watch him descend the steps and quickly make his way down your path and out of the gate, his boots beating mercilessly against the ground. But before he can disappear into the night, you call out one last thing to him. “My name is (Y/N), by the way!”

He turns to look at you from the gate for just a moment, and you swear you see the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, though you cant be too sure. And then, he's gone, and you're left wondering when you'll see him again. If you'll see him again.

You might just.

[jinconda]

Hustlers | 1

masterlist: TBA

pairing: Jungkook x Reader, (ft. Yoongi)

summary: When Jeongguk's girlfriend, Jihyo is taken by the Daechwita gang, everyone's friendships are tested as Jeongguk does anything in pursuit of getting her back. 

not so much a summary: im tired of weak, annoying y/n characters that are helpless and need jk to save them. that being said, reader is an explosive, temperamental, badass. jks girlfriend has the lovely title of being the annoying y/n.

warning: violence, I mean like some serious ass shit, killing left n right, graphic themes, dark themes, swearing

important note: play "nate growing up" by labrinth while reading / i deleted my account, saved this username in the case that i wanted to come back and boom boom who wouldve thought, here i am, this had chapters 1+2 in it, as you keep reading you’ll see the split, ty for ur support n once again i apologize for leaving without as much as a note

wc: (11.8k in total for both parts)

“They got Jeongguk’s girlfriend,” Yoongi said upon entering through the front door. He shrugged his bomber jacket off and tossed it onto the empty loveseat in the corner. The thump of the material hitting the chair caused you to avert your gaze: Yoongi’s forehead was covered in sweat, his hair spiraled in different directions and within one minute he’d checked his phone six times.

“They got what?”

“His lil girlfriend, y’know the lil goody two shoes he—“

“I fuckin’ know who, I’m asking how the fuck did they get her?” Taehyung stood from the couch, taking out a purple lighter from his back pocket and using it to light the blunt he finished rolling moments ago.

You tilted your head, not really sure why this was exactly your problem. Or why Jeongguk expected you guys to willingly come to rescue what he tried to keep so far away from all of you. He never talked about her, and when someone did bring her up he’d tell them to shut the fuck up and expect the subject to be changed without any further questions.

It had become an unspoken rule between the nine of you to completely avoid her presence when she was around. Jeongguk didn’t want any of you near her, which was incredibly fucking ironic since she was around during quite literally everything. There hasn’t been a time within the past eight months where you’d seen Jeongguk without her by his side.

Besides being Jeongguk’s girlfriend all you knew was that her name was Jihyo and she went to an Ivy— at least that’s what Taehyung told you. Jeongguk unwillingly entrusted him in dropping her off one morning, warning him to not speak a word to her or he’d cut his balls off. As usual, Taehyung didn’t give a shit about what Jeongguk told him. So, first thing he did in the car was ask the goody-two-shoes what she was majoring in. Law. She was studying to be a fuckin’ lawyer— how ironic. Taehyung laughed in her face.

“N’ where’s Jeongguk right now?”

Yoongi bent down grabbing the armrest of the loveseat he just threw his jacket on and hauled out the black briefcase you guys kept hidden in case of emergencies. Guess this was an emergency, then. “Going to get her. Joon, Rhea, and Hobi are already there. Seokjin n’ Jimin are waiting for us in the car.”

“Us?”

His hands fiddled with the lock for a moment, sweaty hands fighting the slippery metal. The locks eventually budged and opened with a pop, Yoongi grabbed one of the compact pistols and shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. He grabbed a similar pistol and threw it at Taehyung, who caught it with ease, joint held in place with his lips. His eyes locked onto yours and you raised a brow at him.

“Don’t be difficult,” he warned.

“Tell me why all of us need to be there.”

Yoongi groaned, he knew this was going to happen. When Jeongguk called him and uttered the words “They got her, Yoongs” he knew there was no way around this. They had no other choice, no negotiating, nothing. Jeongguk would fucking kill him if he didn’t haul you and Taehyung to the Daechwita house— pronto.

Truthfully, he didn’t even know Jihyo meant that much to Jeongguk. The first time he brought her to the house— sure, they were all surprised, really fucking surprised. Jeongguk didn’t bring girls to the house. But, that didn’t make her automatically special. Jeongguk could’ve just been high, fucked up, or maybe he didn’t wanna fuck in his car. He doesn’t know the details, never bothered to ask for them. But then he brought her over for a second time, and then a third, and then she was there when they made plans, she was there when they did business.

And Jeongguk was fucking impulsive. They tried to warn him, countless times. This girl wasn’t like you, or Rhea, she didn’t know how shit worked around here. Would she be able to kill someone if they pulled a gun on Jeongguk? Would she snitch to the fuckin’ police? Has she seen Jeongguk kill? Jeongguk didn’t care, didn’t fucking listen. Because to Jeongguk, he knows best, he’s the only one that's always right.

Quite honestly, he could kiss Yoongi’s left ass cheek right now because now they were all fucked. All of them. Jeongguk took her to one of his fights four days ago. One of his underground fights. It was an opening. She was a fucking opening for the rest of you to get fucked, all because Jeongguk was too fucking soft for some girl. He took her in backstage even though Yoongi begged to take her back to campus. No, no. Jeongguk said they’d be good. Because no one fucks with Jeongguk— another lie. Yoongi pushed it, kept persisting that she shouldn’t be allowed in. Then Jeongguk took his gun out, turned the safety off, and pointed it directly at him. Twelve years of friendship almost ended that day, all for a fuckin’ lil girl Jeongguk’s known for one year. Needless to say, Yoongi dropped it.

From what he gathered through Jeongguk’s rushed and rambled words over the phone, someone from Daechwita saw her go into Jeongguk’s dressing room. And just like that, years of hard work down the drain. Yoongi had almost laughed when Jeongguk said it. You’re a fucking idiot, Jeongguk. Not one of you had faltered publicly, shown a weakness. Don’t get him wrong, the other gangs were well aware that you guys could serve as weaknesses for one another, the problem with that is you all weren’t fucking weak. There was never an opening for the other gangs. Now though, there was. She was. She is. Daechwita struck fucking gold that night.

So here he was, annoyed and beyond pissed that his Saturday was now ruined. The one time in a fucking week where he could do whatever he wanted. No business, no drugs, no guns, nothing. He was planning on spending the weekend with his dog, Holly, who was recovering from a broken leg at his nanny. Yes, his dog had a nanny. He hasn’t seen Holly since Sunday, and fuck did he miss his furball. To add the cherry on top, you were starting to piss him off even more. He didn’t need this right now, it was the last fucking thing he needed— especially from you.

“Listen, she hasn’t done shit, she’s innocent, and we—“

“Hasn’t done shit? He pulled a fucking gun on you? Are you—”

“Alright alright, nows not the time to fight over this dumb shit. If we don’t go and something actually happens to her Jeongguk’s gonna kill us all.” Taehyung sighed, taking one last hit off the joint and then smushing it against the ashtray. “Is it ideal? Nah, it’s not. But we don’t have a choice, so grow the fuck up. Both of you,” he tucked the glock into the waistband of his trousers, his favorite pair of white Gucci underwear tugging down as the metal of the gun rubbed against his tanned skin, securing it into place.

You stood up too, adjusting your two favorite guns— a GSR Granite and a PK380— that were secured on either side the holster that hung from your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, let’s help the princess,” you darted toward the coat rack, careful not to “accidentally” punch Yoongi on the way, and picked up the leather jacket Jeongguk gave you a few years back to hide your holster with. Not to mention it was mid-February and Long Island was cold as fuck, the last thing you wanted was frostbite.

When you swung the door open you could hear Yoongi sigh in relief, followed by him telling Taehyung to shove the suitcase under the loveseat again. You walked down the stairs, careful not to bust your shit on some black ice while simultaneously eyeing Seokjin who sat in the Cadillac SUV, the one you guys specifically used when shit went wrong. He immediately saw you, a tight smile formed on his face. He shook his head slowly. Looks like someone isn’t happy either.

You walked up to the car, grabbing the cold door handle of the backseat but changed your mind last minute to move to the passenger door instead. Fuck Yoongi, I’m getting shotgun.

“Hey!” You heard Yoongi yell from the top of the stairs, you raised your arm into the air and flicked him off, peeking over the hood of the car to make sure he saw. And see he did, you watched him roll his eyes and yell something to Taehyung again.

You slammed the door shut and slumped into the very heated chair, “Damn Jin, you got this thing at a hundred degrees? How is your ass that cold?”

“How badly did he piss you off?” Jimin asked from the backseat, a mischievous smile forming on his face. You shrugged, not bothering to answer but knowing damn well why you did it. Because you were being a petty little shit, because fuck Yoongi right now, and above all, because fuck Jeongguk. Next time you saw him you might actually take him by the balls and rip them right off his fucking body.

You didn’t want to help her. You didn’t feel like it. It was twelve degrees out for fucksake. You and Taehyung were supposed to get high and binge-watch season two of Kingdom on Netflix. Was she innocent and didn’t deserve to be taken against her will? Sure, that you can admit. But, you didn’t know her. Never talked to her. Didn’t care about her. Jeongguk suddenly wants you guys to help her? Possibly talk and actually touch her? Now that it’s convenient to have his “friends” there? The list goes on. You weren’t a complete bitch, though, you were here, weren’t you? That ought to account for something.

Yoongi didn’t comment on you taking his usual spot. He entered the car, followed by Taehyung and with a quickened pace he immediately dove into a sloppy word vomit. He went over the plan a total of six times before you guys even pulled out of the driveway. Was it a good, well-thought-out plan? Fuck no. Fuck no, it was not. Yoongi had put in about forty minutes of thought into it, thirty of which were immediately after Jeongguk hung up on him— the other ten he thought of while explaining the first thirty to the three of you.

Daechwita was hosting an annual birthday party for their leader, Cha Eunwoo. Not that any of you ever went, with the exception of three years ago. The one and only time you went turned out to be a truly scarring night. Sweaty, gross gang and mafia members all around you. Preying on you. You shuddered at the thought.

Why they would kidnap Jihyo tonight of all nights was beyond you. Your most reasonable conclusion was that there will be civilians, friends— non-gang affiliated individuals present. And who’s evil enough to shoot up a party full of innocent civilians? As of right now, you were eerily close to crossing that line.

Yoongi went over everyone's individual roles too. Jeongguk had notified Eunwoo that Joon, Hobi, and Rhea were coming with him, for safety measures, obviously. He however didn’t mention that the four of you will eventually show up too— no, that had to remain a secret. You and Yoongi would go in through the basement window in the backyard. The house was like twelve-thousand-square feet, so, there was no fucking way anyone would notice one single window shattering.

Taehyung and Jimin would go in through the South-side balcony, climbing their way in. Directly into Cha Eunwoo’s room. You guys didn’t suspect that they hid Jihyo there, but, you weren’t going to take chances in checking the heavily guarded room. Once everyone was in, you’d all signal to Jeongguk, who by that time will already be meeting with Eunwoo and discussing a deal to release her.

Jeongguk was going to kill Eunwoo. You knew it. Yoongi knew it. Everyone knew it. It didn’t need to be said. Jeongguk pulled a gun out on his childhood best friend for her, there was no way he wasn’t plotting to kill Eunwoo. That's right, let your true colors shine, Jeongguk. You wanted the little lawyer to see him, to really see him. Not the fake “I only deal with the business side” fasad he had been showing her.

She hadn’t seen him kill someone, grip their fucking throat until all the air in their lungs depleted and they were left a lifeless corpse, all while he stared into their eyes, never faltering from their dying gaze. One thing about Jeongguk was, he respect anyone deserving of it in their final moments— never looking away from them. To him, it was the least he could do. The business you were all in was tough; people died, whether it was at your hand or not, it was another normal day.

You wondered if she’d cry, if she’d leave him. How she could watch Jeongguk sign off a deal worth one million in narcotics and then go to her fancy Ivy university the next day and pretend to be something she wasn’t. She was a liar— that’s for sure, but, hey, you were too.

The Daechwita mansion was mesmerizing, to put it lightly. It was a traditional Italian mansion, engraved and extravagant old stone. It had two fountains— yes, two separate fountains upon entering the circular driveway. In a way, it resembled the White House- minus the ugly and the legal politics. The front of the house, had about thirty symmetrical windows, fifteen on each side and another thirty in the back. A grand staircase that led to the golden double-entry doors. Daechwita was fucking flashy. A little too much, for your taste.

The problem was, you couldn’t drive in. They knew your faces, and by now, Eunwoo had probably issued a notice to look out for the missing four Bangtan members. So, simply driving in was out of the question. You would have to park outside the metal gates, climb the South-side of the fence and pray that the electricity wasn’t on, and then proceed with the rest of the plan. If the electricity was on, you’d go with Plan B. Kill the two guards in front and sneak in that way. Personally, that was the plan you preferred, the last thing you wanted to do was climb an eight-foot fence and pray you don’t get electrocuted on the way up.

Then again, Plan B had its own flaws. Seokjin would have to stay in the SUV and hack his was into their security camera database. If he managed to get through, that is without notifying any of the Daechwita members, it’d give you guys about thirty to an hour of time before someone would eventually notice the breach. Once they did, it would endanger everyone and possibly get Jihyo killed. Not that the last part mattered to you.

Climbing it is.

Seokjin had parked the car so frantically that you were surprised Jimin and Yoongi hadn’t flown out the back and directly into the front window. “My bad,” he muttered as everyone tried to catch their breath.

“No worries, next time, don’t break too hard,” Taehyung said patting Seokjin’s shoulder then opening the backdoor and being the first to hop out.

Seokjin nodded, embarrassed for letting his nerves get the best of him. Shortly after, you followed Taehyung out of the car, hopping out of it with a huff, until everyone was out. “Fuck that bitch is huge,” Taehyung commented on the top of the mansion peering through the tall bushes. Within the cracks of the bushes, you could see the lights glistening from the home, dancing against the fountain's waters.

“Hell yeah, it is,” Jimin agreed, being the first to start walking toward the towering fence.

It was a short walk, four minutes max if you had to guess. The dread of having to climb the fence was beginning to settle in. Not that you couldn’t do it, you could. But it was fucking huge. Seven feet? Ten? You can’t fucking tell in the darkness. There was a pause, no one uttering a word as you all gazed at the obstacle ahead of you. Fuck it. You weren’t going to sit here and be a crybaby, the longer you stood the farther away episode one of the Kingdom became.

“I’ll do it,” you heard the sighs of relief around you. Fuckers. Jimin even began to laugh, muttering something along the lines of being happy that he was happy he wasn’t the first one to go up. At that moment, you promised yourself that you’d punch him in the gut when this was all over and done with.

The fence had black borders, in it were white engravings that you couldn’t quite make out in the darkness. The fence was separated with a line in the middle, making your job of climbing it, much easier. The white engravings twirled to the top, leaving no pointed edges for one of you to cut yourselves with. Easy. This is going to be easy. You got this. You coached yourself through the waves of anxiety that began to riddle your body.

You wiped your sweaty palms against your pants and ran at the fence. Grabbing the black borders with both of your hands and hoisting yourself upwards. Once you lifted yourself from the ground, your foot lodged itself between one of the twirled engravings. You gave it a push, making sure it wasn’t going to break under the pressure of your weight. It didn’t. You were good.

You repeated the actions until you made it three-fourths to the top. Stopping yourself to examine the curved black border at the top for any electrical wires. It was dark, but you would be able to see the reflection of the wire against the visible moonlight. It didn’t look like there were any wires so, with a final deep breath you grabbed the top of the fence. Fuck. Fuck.

“Zzzzzzzzzz…” You could hear repeated noises coming from the bottom. You were going to kill them, all three of them. Yes. You’d kill them right after you manage to jump this fence. One by one.

“Fucking dicks,” you muttered as you took the final leap across the fence. Once you managed to rotate your body, you flipped them off, smiling proudly at yourself. Ha. Ha. You guys are pussies.

The route down the fence was easier than the one to the top. Not to mention, knowing you weren’t going to die from electricity certainly helped. By the time your feet hit the ground with a thud, the three rabid-infested animals you called your friends had already begun climbing the fence.

“Alright, we needa’ split up,” Yoongi said, landing lightly against the soiled ground.

"Sounds good, send the signal once ya’ll made it,” Taehyung swung his arm around Jimin, ushering him forward. He stopped in his tracks a few seconds later and looked back to you and Yoongi, “and please be safe. I don’t wanna have to finish Kingdom by myself.”

Taehyung’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. The severity of this mission hadn’t settled onto any of you, yet. You guys were like lambs in a house full of wolves. Nine against what— fifty, hundred? You know Taehyung didn’t mean to get sentimental, but, the fear was always there. Especially now. You nodded and smiled at him, sending him and Jimin off with a wave and thumbs up.

You turned to Yoongi, who had his lips caught in between his teeth, “Listen, I-“

“Not now, Yoongs. We’ll talk about it at home,” you grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it gently and telling him you two should get going.

The walk to the back-end of the mansion was long. Long as fuck. Who needs this much fucking space for a house? Not you, that's for sure. They probably haven’t explored every room the mansion had, no way. Who knows how many rooms there were, fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? One for every window? Not to mention, it was almost below freezing and if you and Yoongi didn’t hurry the fuck up and get there in five minutes you both might die from hypothermia.

“My ass cheeks are freezing,” Yoongi muttered from behind you.

If you weren’t on the brink of death, you would’ve laughed. The both of you were crouching slightly, enough to be able to run through the tall bushes without being spotted by the guards while simultaneously hiding. The first few minutes were fine, you both ran effortlessly, at ease, you were one with the wind— or whatever track athletes say to convince themselves they enjoy running. But then, the cold began to pinch at your throat, then your lungs. About halfway there, Yoongi said he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore and you couldn’t either. And right now, your toes were beginning to give out. You couldn’t feel them anymore, the tightness of your combat boots might actually be killing you. Fuck Jeongguk for recommending these to you, and fuck Prada.

You approached the end of the bushes, out of breath and shaking from the cold. You peered over the corner of the bush to check if you could spot anyone— anything. Clear. Fuck yes, the coast was clear. You sighed in relief and gave Yoongi the go.

Whatever energy he had left, Yoongi mustered it from the pits of his soul and ran toward the backside of the house, grabbing a stone on his way over and shattering the glass of the window with so much force he temporarily paralyzed himself from the sheer shock. You peered the corner once more, making sure no one was approaching the side of the house from the sound of the glass shattering.

No one, again. Fuck was this your lucky day. Thank you universe, you mighty, beautiful, ball of matter. You followed Yoongi’s path, when you turned the corner, you saw him kicking the remainder of the glass to ensure you both didn’t cut yourselves on the way in. Diiiing. A vibration in your jacket. You take your phone out, wincing at the brightness you forgot to turn down, and read the notification.

tae: we’re in, this guy has a sick obsession with hentai

hobi: be safe. also wtf? eunwoo wanted jk alone so we’re outside some weird fuckin door in the basement,  should be a backdoor so try to go through there.

hobi: ps dont text too much theyre gonna start tweaking

hobi: also they took all of our shit, we have nothing

Hentai? Eunwoo likes hentai? What the fuck? They don’t have weapons? Fuck. Fuuuuuuck. This was going to be a bitch. “Hobi gave us the go. They’re somewhere down here, let’s hope they didn’t hear that,” your eyes avert to the broken window.

Yoongi nodded, bending down and swinging his legs through the window. “This is small as fuck,” he ushers his body through the tight space, wincing as his body accidentally grinds against fragments of broken glass. Although you knew his jacket was taking most of the heat, rather than his body you still cringe at the sight.

Yoongi hopped onto the floor with a groan, checking the surroundings for any loose Daechwita members. He then popped his head through the frame and gave you the stupid smile you adored so much. You shoved your phone back into your jacket and bent down, one hand planted against the wet grass while the other grabbed the rough brick wall. You placed both of your feet through the frame and slowly slithered in. About halfway in Yoongi grabbed your waist, whispering, “I got you,” and aiding you onto the floor. Once your feet safely touched the floor you thanked him, telling him he just wanted an excuse to touch you. Yoongi rolled his eyes at the comment, his cheeks, however, shined a bright pink. Cute.

“Did Hoseok say where they were exactly?” You shook your head, taking out your phone and checking Hoseok’s message once more, “we’re outside some weird fuckin door in the basement.” Well, that wasn’t helpful. Pretty useless actually, besides the basement part.

“Nope. Weird door and basement, that's it,” You flipped your phone so that the lit screen faced Yoongi. He scrunched his nose and squinted at it, eyes following the text of Hoseok’s message. He hummed and turned away from you, dismissing you. He lifted his jacket and shirt in a swift motion and grabbed the pistol, bouncing it in his hand a few times to adjust to the weight of it.

You did the same, lifting the side with the zipper of your jacket and grabbing one of the Italian Stiletto Knives you kept hidden in a pocket on the holster. If shit hit the fan you’d take out your gun, until then, you can’t go guns blazing and make a ruckus. Knives will do.

Yoongi peeked over the corner, then he quickly retreated back in. His eyes jumped around eventually settling on your confused gaze, “Two of em’. Once I go, you follow. Get the one on the left, just knock him out,” you nodded at the command, watching Yoongi twist around the wall to check again.

His hand lifted upwards, motioning for you to follow. You crouched down and followed him out of the room. The two guards were walking towards the end of the hall, backs faced to you both. It was a few seconds of you both crouching until you lunged forward and pressed your knife against the guy's throat, not enough to slit it, but enough so he got the memo, your other hand covered his mouth. He stuttered, trying his best to bend his back forward and flip you over. You kept your feet planted against the concrete restricting him from doing exactly that. You moved your hand that held the knife so that your arm could swing around his throat, snuggling it like a snake would to its prey. You kept the knife close to his ear, just in case. You looped your hand through the opening of the one that held his mouth and tightened your grasp, not enough to kill him. He struggled in your grasp, arms flailing, trying their best to grab you in any way possible. Two minutes later, he passed out.

You placed his limp body against the wall, upright, then turned to Yoongi who had copied you, the other man laid in the same position as the one you knocked out. Neither of you spoke. You couldn’t. There could be another two, or however many guards around the corner. Body language it is. Yoongi was breathing heavily, gun held tightly with his slender fingers. He tilted his head to the right, motioning toward the end of the hallway.

You nodded, creeping your way toward the end of the hall. You paused, allowing your ears to do what they evolved to do. Nothing. You relaxed, pressing your back against the wall and peeking over the wall. Nothing. Just moldy grey, almost black walls, but no bodies in sight. You used your left hand to shoot Yoongi a thumbs up and proceeded down the dark hallway.

This hallway split into two. One, from what you could see lead to a dead end with a simple vent in the middle of it, the other, a bit further was still unknown. You moved up the hallway, telling Yoongi to start unscrewing the vent in case, and pressed your body again the wet wall, repeating the same actions. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How many is that? Six? Seven? Ten? Probably more that you couldn't see. Your eyes dart over the Daechwita members. You could see the black and gold jackets from here, the way the gold symbol of their gang, a dragon, shined against the white bulbs that hung from the ceiling. You kept looking around, until a figure cut the corner, looking into your direction. You held your breath, not quick enough to retreat, your eyes met the strangers. Hoseok. Hoseok. Oh fuck. Hoseok’s right there.

You retreated knowing you couldn’t stare at him too long. The Daechwita’s could get suspicious and look your way. Jackpot. If Hoseok was here, it meant Jeongguk was too. You ran back to Yoongi, who had unscrewed the vent and placed it next to him. “Let me guess.”

“I just saw Hobi, we’re close. But we’re also gonna,” you crouched down, looking into the dark vent, “have to go in there.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip, fiddling with the flesh. Contemplating if it was worth going into the vent. Logically, they couldn’t just barge into the hallway and gun everyone down. You guys didn’t know how many of them there were, or if Jeongguk and Jihyo were safe with Eunwoo. You didn’t know anything. So yes— vent it is.

“I’m going to puke,” you sat on your knees. It reeked of weed and from what you could tell— shit. Real shit. Yoongi gave you a pat on the ass and whispered good luck.

“You have to go in too, y’know.”

You looked back to Yoongi, who was smirking directly at— your ass. No shit he was enjoying this, if you got to stare at your ass, you’d be enjoying it too. He nodded, “I know, I’m just going to be enjoying my view on the way.”

Idiot. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the heat forming on your face. You placed both palms against the cold, slimy surface and trudged forward, doing your best to keep the bile down while limiting your breathing as much as possible. The vents were hot, despite the cold metal. You figured it would be hot, mid-winter and all.

As you crawled forward, you heard Yoongi enter the vent behind you. Heavy steps reassured you of his presence. Left. Straight. Right. Another left. There you are. “You know what I fucking want.” You immediately recognized the voice— you could never forget Eunwoo’s sweet, sweet voice.

A pause.

You ushered forward, doing your best to see something, anything through the cracks of the vent. From what you could make out, you and Yoongi were on the right corner of the room. Jeongguk was sitting on a couch in front of you while Eunwoo sat on the other one, Jihyo by his side. Hoseok had told you guys in his text that they didn’t have weapons. That, however, didn't mean Eunwoo didn't have a gun hidden on him.

“What is that, Eunwoo?” Jeongguk spoke, leaning forward, pressing his arms against his thighs and tilting his head at Eunwoo. He was testing him.

“Don’t play with me, Jeongguk. I’ll kill her,” Eunwoo smiled, index finger grazing over Jihyo’s cheek. You could see the tears, the fear on her face when Eunwoo touched her. For a moment, you felt bad for the girl. Sad that she had to go through this. But, she knew the price of being with someone like Jeongguk. Now’s she’s just paying for it.

Jeongguk’s hand twitched, you caught it. He was trying his best to not leap over the couch and strangle that fucker with his bare fucking hands. “__.”

You blinked. Unsure if you heard the name correctly. You? What the fuck would Eunwoo want with you? Jeongguk would never. He would never give you up this easily for a mere girl. Someone he hasn’t even known for a year. You’ve known him for a decade. There was no fucking way. No. No. No. He wouldn’t do that to you.

“What else?”

Huh?

Else?

Jeongguk’s gaze didn’t move from Jihyo’s. At that moment, you realized he would give you up. He’d give you up if it meant he could have her back. Anger. Nothing else besides anger surged through your body. You shoved the knife back into the holster and grabbed your gun. Something touched your calve, causing you to flinch.

Fuck, Yoongi was here. He was gripping your calve, stopping you from breaking the vent and shooting Jeongguk in the face. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” his hand rubbed your back. He heard it, too. He almost wish he hadn’t. The way Jeongguk so effortlessly grazed past giving you up and onto whatever else Eunwoo wanted. Typically, Yoongi knew Jeongguk would use rather, sporadic means of plans if it meant it’d get the job done. He knew they were all hear-say, that Jeongguk would never actually betray any of you. This, however, Yoongi wasn’t so sure about.

“And 60 million. I know you’ll pay it.”

“Deal.”

You were going to strangle Yoongi if he didn’t let go of your calve. Deal? What fucking deal? He was going to give you up for some lawyer bitch? Some bitch that will rat him out once she’s done with college? Once her high of drug-lord mafia romance fantasy was over? You were seeing red. This was unforgivable, you’ll never forgive him.

“Hand her over, Cha,” Jeongguk rose from the couch and pointed to Jihyo.

“Not so fast, buddy. You give me, __. I give you your little plaything back.” Jeongguk’s hand balled into a fist. You secretly hoped Eunwoo sliced her throat, let the blood spill in front of Jeongguk. Watch his face squeeze into pain as he watched his lover die. You’d love that.

“They’re already here, I sent them a notice right after Mark called me.”

A setup? Was this a fucking set-up? Did he know that Eunwoo would want you? Had he planned to give you up when he called Yoongi? This wasn’t the Jeongguk you knew. No.

Jeongguk ran his hand through his hair, “I’ll call her now. Let her know you gave me Jihyo and,” his hand fell to his side, he pondered for a moment, like he couldn’t believe what he was about to say, “then you can have her.”

Jeongguk took his phone out of his hoodie, shuffling through his contacts until he eventually found your name. You saw the hesitation. It was there, for a split second. Until he pressed your contact info and your phone buzzed in your jacket pocket. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

The world stilled, you slowly grabbed your phone, tugging it out of your jacket and in front of you. The photo of you and Jeongguk as teenagers smiling at the camera, cheeks smushed against one another. You declined the call. All eyes fell onto the vent. Your cover was blown. This was it. You didn’t look back to see Yoongi’s expression, instead, you rotated your body until your legs were facing the vent, then, you kicked. Kicked fucking hard. The metal cover of the vent flew forward, exposing you and Yoongi.

It felt like a blur like you weren’t the one in control of your body. You kicked the vent, got up, avoided Jeongguk immediately, and turned to Eunwoo, not giving him the chance to take out his hidden gun before putting a bullet in each of his thighs. You spit in his face, avoiding his screams, and grabbed his hair, roughly turning his head upwards, “Be glad I didn’t shoot your cock off.”

You let go of Eunwoo’s hair and lifted his suit blazer, revealing a holster similar to yours with two pistols, you grabbed them both. “Yoongi, kill everyone outside,” you turned to him, throwing both pistols at him. He shoved his gun into his waistband and caught both of the guns, immediately nodding and shoving the door open.

“Eunwoo! No fuckin’ way, you killed that fuck—“

One. Two. The guy fell to the ground.

Yoongi gave Hoseok the first gun, throwing the other at Namjoon who sat in the corner, and briefly apologized to Rhea for not having a third. He then took out his own and for the first time tonight— he felt relaxed, in control.

You faced Jeongguk and for the first time in ten years, you saw fear. Fear that was directed at you. He knew you heard what he said, heard him fuck up. And he was fucking scared, scared because in so many ways you were a direct reflection of himself. Chaotic, lost to anger, all of it. And right now, you looked at him with so much anger and hatred in your eyes he feared for his life. He feared for Jihyo’s life.

You didn’t shoot him. “If I see her again, I’ll kill her. I’m not fucking kidding.”

You didn’t acknowledge her. She was a mere memory in your world, one that you would make sure you’ll never see again. Jeongguk looked at you with hurt eyes, you knew he loved her. He cared for her. For the first proper time in his life, he loved someone romantically. Cherished them.  

What Jeongguk did tonight was unforgivable. He betrayed you. That, you’ll never forget.

You walked out of the room, ignoring Eunwoo’s screams of pain and the way Jeongguk’s expression tugged at your heart. Fuck you, Jihyo. You grabbed the PK380 and shot the first Daechwita member you saw.

You didn’t consider yourself a killer, it happened to come with the job. The guilt was another aspect that wasn’t included in the job description but came anyway. It didn’t disappear as time moved forward, it slowly descended into nothingness you learned to ignore. On occasion, you could feel it prick your heart, hoping you don’t pull the trigger, taking another life. How could you not, though? It was your main job in Bangtan, other than Jeongguk, you were the fastest, the most apathetic— you were evil. You killed without mercy, without a second glance, because it was your job— it was expected of you.

Sometimes— often, when you were borderline blackout drunk— you’d look back at your first kill. The way the gun shook in your hand as you pointed it at the man, watching the fear in his eyes grow rapidly by the second. The sweat bubbled on his forehead, the tears forming in his eyes, how he fought against the ropes that binded him to the chair. The way Jeongguk gripped your shoulders, trying to steady you. The way he whispered in your ear, his warm breath making contact with your neck. You could still hear it, the softness in his voice, the adornment, “You got this baby, I believe in you.” You shot him in the head, nice and easy. At the time you were still young and foolish, you hoped the man didn’t suffer as the bullet you shot lodged itself through his skull.

It was also during that time your viewpoint on Jeongguk began to change. He was always there for you, always there when you needed someone to talk to, someone to cry to. You never meant for it to happen, you wanted to see him as only a brother, as family. But then he’d sneak into your room late at night and hold you, placing soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as you lulled to sleep. You couldn’t fucking help but get attached to him— fall in love with him.

He was different, unlike the other guys. He didn’t want you to see him as a brother, he wanted you to think about him, he wanted you to love him. He wanted you to stay up at night and fantasize about him. Yet, Jeongguk never loved you, he couldn’t, it was something he fought with for years. He tried desperately because he wanted to love you. You were like a missing puzzle piece to him, perfectly fitting into the hollow space in his heart. You two were so similar it often scared him, and maybe, just maybe, that’s why Jeongguk couldn’t love you the way you loved him— because he didn’t love himself. It ate him alive for years, sometimes still does.

He knew you loved him, you fucking admitted it to his face and all he could do was reject you, watch your face drop, and pretend like you were okay with it. He had to do it for your sake and for Bangtan’s, he couldn’t lie and pretend to love you. He knew it was his doing, he was the one that made the conscious decision to come into your room every night. You were beautiful, he was still young at the time, careless, and wanted to get his dick wet by his pretty friend— nothing more, nothing less. He was terrified that you’d leave after that, pack your bags and never talk to any of them again and it would all be his fucking fault. The other guys would kill him for losing someone like you. You were important, not just because you excelled at your job but because you were family to them. They’d take a bullet for you, even if it meant killing him to get you back.

“__, can you chill? Please!” Someone screamed from behind you, footsteps banging against the pavement of the Daechwita house like a bull. You didn’t bother to turn around, didn’t care enough to. If they tried to stop you right now, you’d shoot them too.

You were seething, completely ignoring the little voice in your head telling you to calm down, collect yourself, and get the fuck out of this damned house. You knew you were fucking up— that you fucked up the second you kicked the vent open and shot Eunwoo in his thighs. Should’ve been his cock, he deserved it. You’ve shot, twenty, thirty, you have no idea how many Daechwita members. If you saw a hint of gold on their jacket, a dragon anywhere on their skin, they were dead scum to you. Eunwoo crossed the line tonight, and as they all work for that sick fuck it meant they are just as liable.

The guys were going to give you a bitching, not tonight, or tomorrow, maybe in a week, when you’ve calmed down. The only person who knew what Jeongguk said as of right now was Yoongi, and you were going to make sure they all fucking knew it too. That if you saw Jihyo again after tonight, you’d kill her, and then you’d kill Jeongguk and whoever else let that bitch into the house. Logically, you knew it wasn’t her fault. After all, Jeongguk was the one that fucking said it, not her. But, it was because of her and that was good enough of a reason for you to never want to see her again.

What if you weren’t in the vent? What if you went in blindly, protecting him and her just to get fucked? What then? What fucking th—

“Please, just listen to me—“ You were pulled back by the collar of your leather jacket. You stumbled for a second, quickly gathering yourself and rotating your right arm backward, firmly pressing the gun against the person’s ribs. This is uncomfortable. The stranger’s hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around, you raised your other gun, swiftly pressing it against their temple, index finger teasing the trigger. “I need you to calm down.”

Hoseok? Fuck. Fuck. You almost shot Hoseok. What the fuck? He let go of your shoulders in a panic and grabbed your face, bringing it closer to his. His hands shook against your skin, is he crying? “We need to get out of here, please, you need to listen to me.” His forehead touched yours and he didn’t blink, eyes begging you to listen to him.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah.”

“You fucking bitch!”

Fuck. You pushed Hoseok off of you, letting him fall back and away from whoever was coming at you. Boom. You stepped back, looking down if there was blood spilling anywhere from you. Good, you were good. Calm the fuck down. You were in a hallway, close to the main entrance. You had been mindlessly shooting, not considering where you were or how many of them were there. A big bald guy stared at you from the end of the hallway, gun pointed directly at you. Clearly the fucker can’t shoot because you were a straight shot away and he still fucking missed. And unlike the baldy, you don’t miss.

You lifted your gun and shot him, it came naturally to you— the aiming. You never missed the exact location of where you wanted the bullet to shoot. It was second nature to you now, ten points for the bullseye. His brain scattered across the walls, painting it red. His large body slumped to the ground, head cracked into two. He deserved to die with his blood spilling out, but you didn’t have time for that right now.

“Hobi?”

You turned to your friend, who stared at you with an unreadable expression. It made you uncomfortable, like he was trying to make you understand the severity of what you did. Like you should be ashamed for what you’ve done, what you did right now. “Do you know, what he said?”

He sighed, lips pursing and eyes pointing to the ground below him, ashamed in his friend. He knew what Jeongguk said. Yoongi screamed it to him after you hauled out the room, killing five of the Daechwita members in thirty seconds, scaring the literal shit out of everyone. He’d never seen you like this, this was another level for him. Hoseok was in charge of the sniping on missions, he was never on the battlefield, far away from watching everyone turn into animals. He would only shoot if it was the last resort. Tonight was all types of fucked up, he shouldn’t be here. No one should, you shouldn’t be doing this.

He couldn’t blame you, though. After hearing what Jeongguk said to Eunwoo, he paused, unsure if he’d heard it correctly. Jeongguk had to have had an alternative motive, giving you up would be the stupidest thing he’d ever done— and that was a long list. He wouldn’t give you up, even if it meant giving his girlfriend up. You were an asset, you were important, without you, they wouldn’t be who they are now. As disappointed he was in Jeongguk, he knew there was more to his plan, there had to be.

“I do.”

“And?”

“We need to get out of here, __.”

You were angry, trying to press him into an argument where he defended Jeongguk. He didn’t want to fight with you right now, you were hurt and upset. He wasn’t going to add fuel to the fire, even if you wanted it. Much to his surprise, you turned around and headed for the entrance without another word. He winced when you shot the bald guy again, completely unnecessarily if he said so himself.

You swung the front door open. Everyone was there, all three cars. Seokjin’s, Namjoon’s, and Jeongguk’s. Silence. No one spoke as you walked over to Seokjin’s SUV and swung the door open so harshly you were surprised it didn’t fall off the fucking car. You didn’t check if Jeongguk was there, if she was there. You didn’t want to get more upset. You couldn’t cause any more damage.

You settled into the cold leather chair, looking down at your leather jacket, oh my god. Oh my fucking god. You hadn’t noticed. Everything was red, completely fucking red. You were covered in blood, none of your own. Your hands, shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, fucking everything, there wasn’t a spot on your fucking body where you weren’t red. You opened the car’s mirror panel, moving the plastic so that the rectangular mirror allowed you to see your reflection. You nearly gasped, red, red red. In your hair, on your cheeks. Your eyes were red too, were you fucking crying?

You felt filthy, disgusting. This was fucking disgusting. What did you fucking do? Holy shit, what the fuck did you do? You closed the panel, turning the safety back on and shoving your guns into the holster. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much. From the moment Yoongi busted the window in, up until this very moment with Seokjin. It was overwhelming, you felt suffocated. The walls in the car felt smaller, like they wanted to crush you. You could feel their eyes, watching you have a complete fucking breakdown. You bent down, letting your elbows jab against your thighs, the smell of iron hit your nose with so much ferocity you had to hold down a gag. Fuck you, fuck you. You were a fucking murderer, no better than Jeongguk. You killed them. You did. You, you.

Seokjin’s hand rested on your back, wincing from how slippery the leather had become. “Take me home,” you sounded so broken. He bit his lip, wondering if it was appropriate to comfort you or if he should just fucking drive.

“Please,” you whispered.

He took one last good look at everyone, they were all staring into the car. He’d be too, they were worried. They saw it— saw you break down. Saw you notice the blood, the reality of the situation. He didn’t know what happened back there, no one spoke as they left the house. It was uncomfortable, the tension that was surrounding everyone, oozing off of them. No one spoke, they just waited for Hoseok to come back with you, hoping you won’t shoot him. Then, Yoongi punched Jeongguk in the fucking face, startling everyone. Jeongguk let him, didn’t fight back. Something bad happened in there and to be fair, Seokjin was afraid of what would happen once they were home.

You didn’t speak again, drive it is. He wasn’t going to push it. You were strong, didn’t need his pity right now. He didn’t hesitate to send Namjoon the signal to get the fuck out and shifted the car into reverse, leaving everyone behind.

Yoongi had driven with Namjoon and Hoseok. Jimin, Taehyung and Rhea went with Jeongguk. They didn’t know, meaning they won’t kill Jeongguk on the way home, that can wait until they were home. He’d kill that fucker with his bare hands.

They were close to the house, Yoongi’s hand shook against the metal of his gun. He wouldn’t put it down, no matter how much Namjoon begged him to. He was upset, didn’t care about Jeongguk’s explanation right now. The rest of them weren’t there to see him dismiss you so lightly, like you were nothing to him compared to Jihyo. They weren’t there to see how the second you kicked that vent open, Jeongguk looked at you for a second and then immediately to Jihyo. He never looked away from her. Never. It was as if she was the only one in the room. It angered him, how Jeongguk ignored the both of you after you two saved his fucking ass.

“C’mon, Yoongi, you can’t shoot him.”

“And if I do?”

Yoongi looked up to the rearview mirror, Namjoon was already staring at him. Eye’s angry but pitiful, he felt bad. They all did. He wasn’t going to shoot Jeongguk, he couldn’t, it would complicate the situation more. He’d leave that decision to you, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and scare the fucker. Yoongi looked away, slumping into the car seat. He let his head fall back against the leather, trying to ignore all the illogical thoughts penetrating his mind.

“Yo guys, JK is going to stay with Jihyo. Jimin just texted me saying he’ll drop them off and leave.”

Yoongi’s hands gripped the gun, knuckles turning white.

Namjoon sighed, “That’s probably for the best.”

What a pussy. What a fucking pussy. Yoongi sighed, looking down at his gun, and turned the safety back on with a click. He swore he heard Hoseok sigh in relief from the passenger seat. He felt like a child throwing a tantrum, he was angry, sure, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could beat the living shit out of Jeongguk, and he already punched him earlier and it did absolutely nothing for him. There was nothing he could do, not even if he wanted to. He’d kill Jeongguk and then what? Fucking nothing. They’d crumble.

He’d have to wait until you calmed down, and then talk to you. Listen to what you’d want to do, if you wanted to leave. Fuck. That hadn’t been an option for years, not since the last time you and Jeongguk had a falling out. This wasn’t like that though, this was another level, this was betrayal. If you wanted to leave, there was nothing they could do to stop you. Jeongguk was still their leader, they needed him as much as they needed you.

Then there was Jihyo. He wasn’t even sure how Jeongguk would go about that. Daechwita knew of her now, knew her name, probably where she lived, where she went to school. Normally, in a situation like this, Jeongguk would have her live with the rest of them. It was the safest, smartest option. Daechwita wouldn’t dare to penetrate their house, no fucking way. But there was no way you’d let her step into the house, even if they snuck her in and you found out, god knows what would happen then. As bad as he felt for Jeongguk, he set himself up for this. His explanation would have to be fucking amazing. Something so miraculous the rest of them would bow on their knees and thank him for being such a genius.

“We’re here,” Namjoon’s finger tapped his knee.

Yoongi looked out the tinted window, they were home. The SUV Seokjin had been driving was parked near the stairs, empty. Seokjin sat on the stairs, head hanging between his knees with a cigarette in between his fingers. He heard the engine and looked up, relieved to see them here, quickly getting up from the stairs and tossing the cigarette into one of the bushes.

He jogged up to them, “Are you guys good?”

Namjoon nodded, “Jeongguk here yet?”

Seokjin shook his head, looking to the front gates, “Nah. Jimin texted me saying he’s going to stay with Jihyo tonight.”

“Yeah, he texted us too,” Hoseok shut the car door, joining the circle.

“What happened with them?”

Yoongi got out too, they were looking to him to provide the explanation. He was the only one there, besides you, Hoseok only knew a few details so he wasn’t of much help. With a deep breath, he explained it to them, not letting the anger wash over his body again. “Eunwoo wanted her and money in exchange for Jihyo. Nothing more, he breezed past her like she wasn’t shit to him.”

“You don’t think he was just trynna’ stall?” Hoseok asked, not intentionally trying to piss him off.

“No.” Yoongi sighed, “I mean I don’t fucking know, man. He wouldn’t stop staring at her, even after __ shot Eunwoo. I get it, he’s in love, scared of losin’ her. He looked terrified, I’ve never seen him like that, I think he was being deadass bout’ it.”

“As fucked up as it is, we need to hear him out. Not today, but someday, we’re in deep shit with Daechwita now.”

Namjoon’s words caused a shudder to spread throughout them. He’d almost forgotten about Daechwita. About the fact that you might’ve paralyzed Eunwoo, that they killed so many of their men. Eunwoo wasn’t going to let it slide, he’d kill Jihyo the first chance he got, then he’d kill you and the rest of them. It might not be a problem tomorrow, or next week, but eventually, it will be, and an internal conflict between all of you is the last thing that was needed.

The sound of another engine roared through the front yard. The gate opened quickly and Jeongguk’s red Mercedes pulled into the driveway. Namjoon looked at Yoongi, warning him. He wanted to be calm, he did. But he looked at Jeongguk’s front window and he was staring at him. He was looking him dead in the fucking eye. Everyone quickly spilled out of the car, and Yoongi charged forward. Taehyung and Jimin caught him, bodies colliding against his, holding him back.

Jeongguk's brows furrowed, he looked upset. Yoongi knew Jeongguk was aware that he fucked up, but it didn’t matter right now. “Easy there, tiger,” Taehyung spoke into his ear, “let's not do something we’ll regret tomorrow.”

They grabbed his arms, hauling him backward. Jeongguk broke eye contact, reversing his car and speeding away from him, from his family. For some bitch. Yoongi scoffed, releasing himself from his friends and screaming, “Man the fuck up, Jeongguk!”

It’s been three days. Three long fucking days of you sitting in your room. Someone would knock three times a day, leaving food out for you and then leaving you the fuck alone. You silently thanked them for the privacy, for not pushing you to come out. You weren’t sure if Jeongguk came home the night you did or if he went with Jihyo. You heard everyone screaming in the living room, not directly at him so you came to the conclusion that he wasn’t here. Still isn’t.

You weren’t even sure as to why you were holing yourself up in your room. They didn’t do anything to you, there was no logical reason for you to not want to face them. Yet, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to face the responsibility of what will happen with Daechwita. You caused it, you had to fix it. For all you could know, Eunwoo might be paralyzed. You killed so many of them, the blood was on your hands.

You thought of the situation with Jeongguk too, what you wanted to do. You didn’t want to leave and even if you did, where the fuck would you go? Eunwoo had probably already placed a hit on you, you were a target, so that was out of the question. Jeongguk couldn’t leave either, he was the leader, you guys needed him to survive, as much as it pained you to admit that. You were going to have to live with it, with the hurt, the betrayal, with the fact that he didn’t love you. That he never did.

It didn’t dwell on you until last night, just how much you blindly loved him for years. Eight to be exact. You’ve loved him for eight years, like a deranged dog, blindly loving your owner who could give you up at any moment. And give you up he did. It angered you so badly. You’d never give them up, plan or not. It was out of the fucking question. You watched him fall in love with her, even though it pained you. You tried to fall out of love with him, tried to find other guys. Tried to sleep with them, let them take you out on dates, it was all to no avail.

You never wanted to see her again. Never wanted to see the reminder of why Jeongguk will never love you. The reminder of Jeongguk giving you up, betraying you. You were jealous, knowing fully well you had no right to be. He wasn’t yours, never was, never will be. Fuck you, Jeongguk. Fuck you. Fuck him for making you fall in love with him, fuck him for kissing you so many times, and most of all, you wanted to slap yourself for losing your virginity to him.

You hadn’t been with anyone else. Your one and only time, how fucking depressing. You were pathetic. This situation was pathetic. You were twenty-four years old for fuck sake, crying over a guy that hadn’t kissed you in seven years. A guy that rejected you seven years ago. You almost laughed.

You needed to get the fuck out of this room, it was eating you alive. Making you think of things you’ve ignored for years. It was becoming unbearable, having to live with yourself.

There was a knock. Then another.

You sighed, it was probably Taehyung or Jimin leaving you food again. You waited for a minute, then rushed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. You fully expected a plate of food waiting for you, not Jeongguk.

Before you could knee him in the dick and throw him out the balcony, his hand covered your mouth, the other pushed you back into your room. He kicked the door close with his foot, moving you forward to quickly lock it. You were tossing and turning against his grip, doing anything to get his hand off your mouth, you licked it, tried to bite, but Jeongguk was fucking strong. Stronger than you, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“You need to hear me out,” he said, body pressing further into yours to get a better grip of control. He kept pushing you back. Then, your back hit the wall and Jeongguk pushed himself into you. His right knee enveloped your leg, preventing you from even attempting to knee him in the dick. You groaned against his hand, trying to speak, scream at him. It pained you seeing him, he was staring into your fucking soul with his pathetic eyes. You wanted to kill him, you would the second you were free.

His body was entirely pressed against yours, you couldn’t move an inch even if you tried, he bent his neck down, trying to get a better look at you. “I need you to hear me out, __. It’s killing me.”

You squinted your eyes, fuck. You didn’t expect this to be this difficult. You missed your friend, no matter how much you hated him at the moment. He was still someone you had spent the majority of your life with, he was your family. Jeongguk sounded out of breath, he had to have snuck in without anyone noticing him. There was no chance any of the guys would willingly let him talk to you, not without your permission.

“I panicked, okay? I fucking panicked. You need to understand that. Even if you came in before or after I agreed with Eunwoo, I wouldn’t. I fucking wouldn’t. You think I’d really give you up?” You tried to break free, he was hurting you. Watching his eyes twinkle against the moonlight wanted to make you cry. He looked sincere and you hated him for that, for looking like he was actually fucking sorry.

Jeongguk was beautiful. You wanted to punch yourself for thinking of it right now. He had always been beautiful to you. Even right now, after what he’d done, he was beautiful. He was so much older, so much more mature, he wasn’t the same Jeongguk from seven years ago. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth— a nervous habit he had— and stared at you. His ears were red. He was nervous. You didn’t know what to do, you felt suffocated with his body against yours like this. You couldn’t think straight no matter how hard you tried.

Jeongguk’s head sunk lower, forehead touching yours. “I would never give you up, I’d die before I’d do that to you.”

Jeongguk was becoming blurry, you were crying, letting the tears fall from your eyes and onto the top of his palm. “You’re my family, please, I would— I can’t live without you, I don’t even know how I could fucking make it up to you, I’ll do anything. Anything, please,” he choked, out, letting his hand fall, releasing your mouth.

Should you scream? Let everyone know he’s in here so they could beat the shit out of him? Should you just beat the shit out of him? No. You couldn’t. Not with the way he’s staring at you, looking like you’re the only person in the world to him. Jeongguk raised his hands, thumbs wiping the tears from your face.

You couldn’t stop them, they were spilling out, waiting for Jeongguk to clean them up. He was crying too, “I love you,” he said it so quietly you could barely hear it. You think you’re imagining it, are you fucking hallucinating? Had you gone crazy from being alone for three days, that you were hallucinating him? You know how he meant it, that he loved you as a friend. Right now, you didn’t care. He said it, that was enough for you. He hadn’t let go of your face, holding it upright so that you wouldn’t look away from him.

“Say it,” he leaned closer, “please, say it.”

He hadn’t been this close to you in years. The last time was six, seven, years ago? It had become an unspoken rule after he rejected you to not get too close to each other, for your sake. This, however, was testing all of it. He was so close you could smell his cologne, the muskiness you were so familiar with. You could see the scar he got with you when you both were fifteen, you even caught his new lip piercing, this was cruel. Was he playing with you?

Jeongguk pushed himself into you, “Fucking say it, __.”

“I-“ Just how many times had you imagined this? Fifteen? A hundred? Fifteen-hundred?

Jeongguk looked desperate, is he fucking okay? Why did he want to hear you say it? He didn’t love you, he had a fucking— he had a—

“Stop, stop getting in your head,” he was way too fucking close. You could feel his breath on your lips, he was inches away, maybe less. Maybe more, you couldn’t fucking tell, you might pass out. “For fuck sake, tell me—“

“I love you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk looked like a deer caught in headlights. Your heart pounded against your chest, like it was trying anything to get the fuck out of there. You wanted to get out too, embarrassed for what you just fucking said. What the fuck are you two doing?

“Thought so,” Jeongguk closed the distance between you two, lips molding into yours. You were frozen from the shock, is he fucking kissing you? Why the fuck is he kissing you right now? This had to be a hallucination, there was no fucking way this was real.

“Kiss me back, dammit,” he growled against your lips, diving back in. You didn’t need to be told twice, you kissed back. It had been years since you last kissed someone. Jeongguk kissed as passionately as he did seven years ago. The metal of his lip ring grazed against your lip. He rolled his hip into yours, you could feel it. He was hard. How was this turning him on? Is he a fucking masochist?

Jeongguk’s mouth left yours, he moved to kiss your neck, hands bracing on either side of your head. He was licking and nipping at your neck, moving lower. You didn’t know what was happening, why he suddenly wanted to do this with you.

“Jeongguk,” you moaned, what the fuck? Fifteen minutes ago you were determined you’d kill him if he ever showed himself to you. Now, here you were, about to have sex with him. Is this what it was leading to?

Jeongguk only hummed against your skin, hands cupping your breast, giving it a harsh squeeze. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt good, too good. You wanted this so badly, you’ve wanted it for years. He has a fucking girlfriend. Snap the fuck out of it.

“Jihyo—“ Her name slipped out of your mouth.

He stopped. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jeongguk released you, turning around without another word. You watched as he gripped his hair, bending over and muttering something you couldn’t catch.

“I’m so sorry, holy fuck,” Jeongguk began to pace, unsure what to do. You didn’t know what the fuck was happening, why he did what he did. Was he manipulating you? He’d fuck you good so you forgot about him betraying you? Is that what it is?

“What the fuck are you doing Jeongguk?”

He shook his head, hand bouncing in the air, “I’m sorry. I just came to apologize, seriously. I am fucking sorry, I don’t know what happened to me. When you said it, I just couldn’t—“

It. When you said it. When he said it.

“Are you still together?”

His brows furrowed, unsure of why you were asking him that, “It’s complicated.”

It’s complicated was code for yes, dumbass, we are still together. You wanted to puke at how easily you folded for him. He said a few sweet words and suddenly you were ready to forgive and forget.

“Why’d you say it, Jeongguk?”

��Huh?”

“Why’d you tell me you love me, Jeongguk?”

He blinked, body tense, “I do love you.”

“You don’t tell someone you love them and them dry hump them because you see them as a sister.”

He knew you were right. If you did have sex, what then? Would he suddenly love you? Would he break up with Jihyo to be with you? You didn’t even have to ask to know the answer to your own question. His heart was with her, regardless if his dick was not.

“It felt right, __. I—“

“You what? Thought you could love me because of how badly you wanted to fuck me? Is that it? You don’t love me, Jeongguk, you don’t.”

Jeongguk sat on your bed, frustrated. His palms rubbed at his face as he tried to come up with a good enough explanation. “Do you love me?” The question came out muffled, his palms obstructing his mouth.

“You know the answer to that.”

A sound erupted through the house. Jeongguk got up in a flash, body blocking yours from the door. “What the fuck was that?”

You didn’t know. How the fuck could you know? You were too busy trying to solve your love crisis.

“Jeongguk, get the fuck out of her room or I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

Yoongi. It was Yoongi.

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Since it was mother's day like yesterday, I was having brain rot about the kids seeing reader as a mother figure so they together with the help of Cale got reader a gift as thanks for her taking care and looking after them. Idk about you but if someone gets me a gift for mother's day sincerely I would just start balling on the spot, i blame it on mommy issues.

~🥭

MANGO ANON!!! so glad to see you back here <33

im sorry this was late :( my island had a whole blackout and none of my gadgets lasted through the darkness😔✊ they all died because i was too lazy to charge them.

also, same!!! mommy issues gang 😍

It had just been a peaceful morning with Cale and the kids, them watching over their human as he tries to sneak in another sleep that morning.

For some reason, Cale couldn't fall back asleep after waking up, as if the world was telling him that he wasn't allowed to go back, so he begrudgingly had to wake up and entertain the kids who have been pressing him to spend the day with them.

So he got up, washed up, and changed his clothes, knowing that "spending the day" will just be them sitting in a room and Cale himself listening to the stories the kids are so eager to share, especially Raon. They'd have their meals here together and they'll maybe take a nap for a few minutes before they'll wake up again and look around the estate for something to do.

It wasn't until Choi Han had entered the room to check up on them before Cale realized why the world decided to wake him up early today.

"Cale-nim." Choi Han greeted him with a bright smile. "I'm glad to see you've woken up early today."

"Not early enough to see [Name]," Cale told him with a deadpan.

Ever since things have settled down in both continents, you decided to take on the role of being a staff in the duchy and help out with the management of the village in the Forest of Darkness, having met and worked with the Beast Tribes that lived there during the war which makes you the best person to handle the management.

You were attentive and considerate, so things have been better ever since you took over.

"They are very hard-working," Choi Han beamed as he remembers how he had seen you get up so early and left to do mere supervision on the village to see if things were going great.

Even though it was a Sunday, you always make sure to visit the Forest of Darkness to check up on things. You were hardworking, so similar to your significant other.

Choi Han escorted you there to make sure you get there safely and saw how you were greeted enthusiastically by the kids. He watched how you had remembered all their names and asked them questions, about "how did their training go?", "how's their mother's condition?", and so much more.

As he shared these things to Cale and the kids, Cale listened attentively with a small smile on his face while the kids looked at Choi Han with big smiles, no doubt proud that you were being talked about so highly.

"She seemed like a mother to every one of them," Choi Han commented. "Which reminds me, today would've been Mother's Day."

Cale stilled. "Is it?"

"Yes," Choi Han answered. "It's the second Sunday of May. I doubt they celebrate it here, though."

"Mother's Day?" On repeated, blinking owlishly. "A day for mothers?"

"It's a day to honor motherhood," Cale answered her, patting her silver tresses. "People would gift something to their mothers or people they consider mothers as a way to thank them."

"Should I do that?" Raon asked, dropping down to Cale's lap and looking up to the redhead with big blue eyes. "Give something to my mommy."

"I don't see why not?" Cale murmured. "I'm sure Sheritt-nim will be surprised and pleased."

"Yes, I'm sure she would be happy with whatever you give her," Choi Han chimed in. His dark eyes flitted to the two children other than Raon who was glancing at each other, their expression a bit melancholy.

"It doesn't have to be your actual mother," Cale suddenly spoke, having seen their faces and already knowing what they were thinking. "As I've said before, you can give something to someone you think of as a mother."

"What do you think about gifting something to [Name]-nim?"

The four of them turned to Choi Han, surprise etched onto their faces while Choi Han continued to voice out his thoughts with a gentle smile, "They've been treating you like how a mother treats their child, no?"

Cale leaned back to the couch as he thought over Choi Han's words. He wasn't exactly wrong. Due to your nature to always look over others, you were attentive to the kids and their needs.

Even when you weren't his lover yet, you have always showed the children a great amount of affection and care openly by buying them the foods they talk about, looking up the stories they mention, giving them hugs after a particularly long day, and so much more.

When you became his lover, the kids became closer to you, and with you now also residing in his resting chambers, you were all sleeping together every night and having dinners together as well.

"[Name]...?" Hong murmured your name, thinking back on all the things you've all been through together. "Uhm, I guess... I guess Choi Han is right..."

He turned to look at his sister, who turned to look at him as well, both of them sharing a knowing look before turning to look at Cale. Cale let out a sigh, a smile threatening to slip to his face.

"Seems like we'll be busy today."

Choi Han smiled. "Apparently so."

A trip to the plaza with the kids and Choi Han is... eventful, at least for Cale.

They had to disguise themselves with magic to avoid getting recognized. The kittens are walking around in their human form, enjoying the bustling city plaza while Raon is invisible, floating around them as he looks around for anything interesting.

"What does [Name] likes?" Cale asked out loud, looking around. The kids and Choi Han turned to look at him, the four of them not knowing where to start.

"She'd probably be happy just to receive something," Choi Han mumbled. "The type of person to appreciate the effort more instead of the actual present."

Hong walked up to Cale, who bends down and picked up the child without any complaints. "Well, we can't have that, can we? We need [Name] to like both our efforts and the gift."

Hong placed his hand on Cale's shoulder, nodding his head with determination, lips pursed into a thin line. "Let's go...!"

They spent the whole day trying to remind the kids that they were buying things for you, not for them after Raon had mentioned how you'd liked skewered pork as your gift with his mouth-watering, On when she said you'd like the cute cakes on a display she has been looking for a while, and when Hong said you'd like a cape.

Choi Han had pointed at the most eccentric gown Cale had ever seen and mentioned that you'd love it and that's how Cale knew today was going to be a long day.

"Human, Human! It's the Emperor!"

In the middle of their hunt for a gift, Raon called for Cale, the mana communication device informing them that Alberu was calling them. Cale rubbed the bridge of his nose before walking up to an alley, Choi Han making sure no one was following them before he nodded to Cale.

Raon took out the mana communication device and accepted the call.

Alberu's face popped on the device and he looked absolutely exhausted, a few stacks of paperwork alongside his profile.

"Cale?" Alberu blinked, seeing that his dongsaeng looked a bit different. "Why do you look like that? Where are you?"

"I'm at the city plaza, Your Majesty," Cale answered.

Alberu stiffened. "What? Is something the matter?"

Cale frowned. "Why would there be? I'm here with the children and Choi Han to look for a gift."

"Gift...?" Alberu caressed his chin, closing his eyes. "I don't recall today being a special day. Is today's someone's birthday or something of the like?"

"Today is Mother's Day," Cale answered and he watched as Alberu's blue eyes widened in the slightest before he echoes out Cale's words, "Today is Mother's Day...?"

Cale nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. It is a day to honor motherhood."

"We're getting a gift for [Name]!" Hong announces, wanting to tell Alberu what they were planning to do.

The blonde man tilted his head and a soft smile began to bloom on his handsome face. "Is it because they're like a mother to you?"

Cale looked down at On and Hong, seeing how their cheeks are beginning to flush red from embarrassment but they still nod their heads nonetheless. He lifted his hands, patting their heads before he looked to Alberu who's still smiling.

"I see." Alberu leaned back to his chair. "I will let you continue your activities. I had initially called you to see how you're doing. I'm glad you're all doing well."

Cale nodded his head. "We're fine, Your Majesty. Thank you for checking on us."

The call ended shortly after that. Cale, Choi Han, and the kids continued their hunt while Alberu stared at the ceilings of his study. 'Mother's Day, huh?'

He closed his eyes in thought. 'Should I buy Mother some flowers?'

When you returned from the Forest of Darkness, you were a bit exhausted, but still excited to see Cale and the kids, though when you went back to have an evening tea together, they're all absent from the room.

"Young Master Cale-nim went out with Choi Hans and the kids to the city plaza," Hans informed you when you came out from the bedroom to question where the rest of the occupants are.

"That's odd," you murmured, frowning. "I didn't hear anything about that being in today's agenda."

"It was a sudden decision."

You turned around, slightly surprised to see Ron standing behind you with a benign smile on his face.

"Oh, Ron," you greeted. "A sudden decision, huh? I see. It's not like them to just leave like that."

"They'll be back soon, Miss [Name]. Please do not worry," Ron told you reassuringly. "Would you like to have some tea while you wait?"

You smiled at the old man, knowing you could always trust his words. "That sounds like a pleasant idea, thank you, Ron."

You sat in the parlor while waiting for your tea, looking out at the bright sky. Today had a nice weather with a slight breeze, so it was the perfect day to choose to walk on foot. 'Maybe they thought the same.'

You were accompanied by Ron for most of your evening, him making small talk while serving you tea and light snacks.

It wasn't long until the door of the parlor room was opened, the kids bounding in first with excited smiles on their faces, each holding a wrapped box before Cale and Choi Han entered.

"[Name]!" Hong called for you with a large grin. You placed down your teacup and stood up, lifting the red-haired child up with a huff and returning his bright smile, "Hi! Where have you all been?"

"City plaza," Cale answered, approaching you while the kids began to surround you.

"Hmm, alright, then what's all those?" You asked, eyes on the present boxes they were all holding before you set Hong down to the ground.

"You see, [Name]-nim, in my culture, today's date is celebrated as Mother's Day," Choi Han explained with a smile. You turned to look at Cale, as if to question him and he told you, "It's a day to honor mothers or those who have taken the role of a mother."

"We usually give presents to mothers as a way to thank them," Choi Han continued.

You looked down when you felt a tug on your skirt, seeing On and Hong looking up to you with red ears.

"Oh?"

Ron watched as the kids glanced at each other nervously before Raon suddenly flew to you, nearly decking you with his present. "[Name]! This is for you!"

You gently took the present from the dragon, a bit flabbergasted. "For me...?"

Homg gripped at your skirt. "Y-You're like our mom, so—"

"So we want to give you presents..." On continued nervously. "To thank you."

They were sincerely thankful to you. Even though they have Cale, the three of them felt even more loved with you by his side. Your way of love was so open and heartwarming to the point they'll forget about the problems in the world and could only melt in your arms as you hum out a tune that you've heard from mothers in your old village.

"You think so?"

You slowly crouch down to be at the kids' eye level, eyebrows scrunched up with disbelief across your face. "You think of me as a mother?"

On nodded slowly, her ears now a blazing red.

"You... Want to thank me?" You questioned, putting a hand to your chest. "Me? Are you sure?"

Instead of saying anything, On and Hong simply handed you the wrapped gifts while Raon was nearly shaking the box for you to take. The three of them gave you three small boxes and as you cradle them to your chest, you felt an emotion began gathering in your chest.

'Aigoo,' Cale thought with a sigh, a smile appearing on his face. 'They're crying.'

Tears were dripping down from your cheeks, falling to the presents you were holding. There was a sweet smile on your face, the one that usually shows whenever you were spending time with Cale and the kids together.

"Thank you," you murmured, wiping away your tears. You placed the presents to the couch before opening your arms to them, "Give me a hug."

On and Hong walked into your embrace, both of them hiding their faces into you while Raon flew around the three of you first before he landed on your neck, wrapping around you like a scarf with his wings fluttering, grinning when On muttered, "Happy Mother's Day."

"Happy Mother's day to [Name]!"

BONUS:

"You wanted to see me?"

Violan watched as Cale steps into her study, her eyes immediately drawn to the box he had in his hands. She ignored it for a moment, knowing Cale would probably explain it to her.

"Yes," Cale replied nonchalantly while approaching her. "The kids decided that today jd a day to honor mother figures."

Violan blinked. What?

"They do it by gifting something to [Name] since they've been taking that role for quite some time now," Cale continued, not allowing Violan to process his words.

"And I thought I should do it too."

Cale extended the box in his hands to Violan and stared at the Duchess before saying, "Happy Mother's Day, Mother. Thank you for what you've done to my siblings and I."

Violan slowly took the box from Cale, her eyes wide and starting to go glossy. "O-oh..."

"I'll see you at dinner, Mother." Cale bowed his head before turning around.

"W-wait, Cale." Violan finally snapped from her stupified state. Cale turned to look at her and sees the cold facade she has cracking, a genuinely happy smile appearing on her face.

"Thank you."

Cale nodded. "Of course. Then, I'll be off."

Cale exited the Duchess' study and was greeted by you and the children. You were holding a bouquet of red flowers as you smile at him with red puffy eyes.

He caress your cheek and turned to look at the others. "Let us go to Countess Jour as well."

———

"A day to honor mothers?"

Rosalyn listened to Choi Han with interest. "How touching. I should thank my mother as well by sending her something."

Choi Han nodded with a smile. "That's a great idea."

Meanwhile, in the Palace, Alberu walked up to his mother's grave, a bouquet in his hand, a soft smile appearing on his face once he arrived right in front of her again.

"Hello, Mother."

[vritest]

deja vu

fezco x fem!reader

tw: UNEDITED, drug usage, fez being aggressive, nate jacobs, angst!!!! and fluff

a/n: let me know if i should make a part two!

felt like this song sets the mood for this story lol :)

•••••••

the first time you met fezco it had been an accident. you didn't even want to attend that party that hot summer night. you're cousin, maddy had invited you, forcefully and threatened that you would regret it if you didn't come, since it was your first day in california. you originally went there to visit family, but well, vacations always end with a big unexpected suprise.

that suprise being, fezco.

that night at the party where all you could smell was sweat, weed and alcohol, you had lost maddy out of your sight while going over to the little bar counter to get a drink, maybe vodka, you don't quite remember since all the labels were taken off. by the time you had returned to the couch where you had last seen maddy, she was gone. at first you freaked out because- what the hell were you supposed to do at a party where you knew, well nobody. so you spent the next 30 minutes walking around, whoever house it was, looking for your short cousin but there was no sight of her so eventually- you stopped calling her and looking for her, now aware she wasn't going to show up anytime soon and you accepted the fact you were going to be alone for a while. you remember spotting a couch outside, and noticing a ginger guy, fezco. there was no other free couches anywhere that weren't filled with teenagers making out and grinding in their boyfriends so it was either that or sitting next to a complete stranger. you chose to sit down to this stranger.

your heels clicked against the concrete as you headed outside the house and noticed a free couch finally. you sighed contently, spotting fezco on the other side. a joint in between his pointer and ring finger, as he let out a large cloud of smoke. you got closer to him as he started noticing your presence, looking you up and down wondering if you were just a person trying to get drugs or something, like normal, but boy was he wrong. you clasped both your hands behind your back and breathed in sharply

“you mind if i sit here” you asked, your voice much softer than he imagined you would sound like, still he looked up at you his blue eyes staring into yours before he responded.

“nah, go ahead” fez said as he scooted over the couch, yourself letting a small smile as a thank you and the ginger continued smoking. you grabbed your phone tightly looking around nervously hopping your cousin would show up and you both would go home because you were so over this even after being there for less than an hour. your nervous stare wasn’t unoticed though, fezco was quick to notice your eyes and it’s tenderness they held as you looked around the backyard. he couldn’t hide his curiosity

“um- you okay? you lookin kinda scared right now” he chuckled, bringing up his joint to his mouth once again taking it in. you turned over to look at him, his voice slightly startling you, and you finally noticed what you hadn’t notice before you even saw him for the first time. this man was handsome, so handsome it was so hard to describe it in words. especially when he was smoking like the way he was right now, his eyes interrupted your thoughts, remembering his question he had asked before you got stuck in this daydream.

you let out a small laugh as you shook your head sharply “me? pfft no i just- im waiting for someone and she’s not showing up so” you sighed looking down at your lap and up again, slightly slouching as the boys eyes were still in your figure. he furrowed his eyebrows wondering how he could help the pretty girl sitting in front of him.

“who’s the person you lookin for? i might know them, not tryinna be creepy of course just wanna help” he said correcting himself, you slightly chuckled, and licked your lips.

“her name is maddy, maddy perez”

he widened his eyes as the name definitely rang a bell, the girlfriend of non other than Nate fucking Jacobs, he almost gagged at the thought of that assholes name. he gulped.

“yeah yeah i know her, um shit i haven’t seen her around here, neither have i seen her crazy ass boyfriend” he said, taking in the marijuana inhaling it out his nose this time, different from the times before. you widened your eyes as he said she had a boyfriend. you tilted your head in confusion, as you sat up.

“she never told me she had a boyfriend” you muttered, he laughed at your confused tone and nodded as he sighed slightly still almost throwing up at the topic of the conversation at the momment.

“yeah she does, he’s an asshole too. all he does is bark and not bite, a avaragefuckboy. i don’t doubt he’s fucking her right at this momment.”

you laughed at the comment of your cousin, still really confused where all this stuff was coming from, but surprisingly the man sitting in front of you had made you a lot more comfortable than before.

“what’s yo name?” he asked blowing out a cloud of smoke. you smiled.

“y/n.”

“fezco.”

slowly you too both created a comfortable environment and it felt amazing. especially after feeling like shit for the last few months because of shit that has happened to you that you never really like to talk about.

after talking to what felt like hours talking from, maddy to eachothers embarrassing moments in middle school, you both shared your phone numbers with a large grin on both of your faces, hoping you guys would meet sometime soon. you never got over the feeling that fezco had left you with, butterflies in your stomach and you used to not believe in that cringe shit but now you don’t doubt that that’s the feeling that he gave you and he could say the exact same thing about you. after that night, you both didn’t stop texting like every minute. his good morning and night messages would leave you smiling at the screen, maddy would notice how much you smiled recently, part of her was happy for you that you we’re finally becoming a lot happier that you did before but she also wondered who that person was. she knew you had met someone that night.

texts with fezco went from, good morning and good night to full on paragraphs of how much you two wanted to see eachother, and finally you did. one day you decided to sneak out of maddys house that wou were staying in since, you were there for vacation, you successfully got out and walked to fez’s. the first time you stepped in there you automatically knew you wanted to stay there forever, his presence made you feel comfortable and things you’ve never quite felt in your life. you also met, ashtray, his brother. at first you thought he hated you, since you were coming more often everyday, but quickly you noticed that wasn’t the cases, and in fact it was the exact opposite, he liked you. ashtray always hated people that would even breathe at fezcos direction the ring way, but with you the first time he had met you, he thought you were so badass. he especially liked when you would come over to his house on early mornings, and make him pancakes, something that fez never leaned to mastered .

fezco opened the door from his room, waking over to the kitchen, the sent of pancake batter hitting his freckled nose softly as he sniffed, his eyes reverting to your figure in his shirt as you flipped a pancake on the stove in the small kitchen, ash sitting on the table waiting patiently as you finished , your giggles shared with ash as you both talked about something he couldn’t quite hear correctly, both eyes meeting fezcos as you two noticed he had woken up.

“no fucking way you did that y/n-“ ash said, you both looked over at fez, you let out a small smile as you spotted your boyfriend quickly letting go of the pan and ran towards his hugging him, as he hugged back.

“good morning babe”

“mornin baby”

ash letting a gagging noise, “get a room, god” he said as he let out sarcastic vomiting noises, you and fezco laughing.

fez loved that about you, the fact that you could be so likable and you, he loved that you made him feel normal, like he wasn’t just some dumb drug dealer you didn’t need to pretend someone you were not, right?

well, you lied.

you were so in love you hadn’t mentioned the most important thing at the moment, you were only going to be in california for two more days, and you didn’t know how to tell him. all does days of sneaking out just to see him and his brother. all those days he would take you out to places you’ve never been before, taking you on experiences you’ve never had before, treating you like a goddess every single fucking day. fez would made sure that you felt like you had people that loved you every single day , and you didn’t say a word about how you were only here for a limited time, you lied to his face and told him you’d just moved. when you didn’t. all you wanted to do was cry in bed and never wake up. but that wasn’t an option at the time. becases all of this was your fault.

fezco had taken you to a beach that was close to east highland. he was still clueless to your current situation, you eyes filling up with tears as you and fez sat on the soft sand, the noise of the waves hitting the shore softly, as fezco reverted your gaze to your worried face that made him worried now. he shifted his body closer to yours, bringing his fingers to your chin, lifting up your head. as your eyes, glimmered in the sunlight.

“y/n, what’s wrong. did someone do sum to you? i swear i’ll fuck them up-“

the tears you had been holding in, finally strolling down your face. soft sobs coming out of your tiny mouth, your lips swollen, the once that he used to kiss ever so slightly.

“i fucked up, like really fucking bad fez” you said, sniffling as you moved your head, your eyes, no longer meeting yours anymore. you brought you hand up wiping off your tears with the back of your hand, fez still confused where all this was coming from. had he done something wrong? we’re you going to break up with him?

“what?”

“i’m gonna leave california, in two days fez.”

he felt like he was about to die at the momment. his brain still trying to process what you had just said. he chuckled sarcastically.

“funny, you just moved, stop fucking around”

“i’m not!” you yelled. he jumped at the tone of voice you’d never used, in the 3 moths of knowing you, fez put 2 and 2 together realizing, you were serious, you weren’t joking. you eyes were still not facing him, as he huffed.

“so you lied to my fucking face y/n, if i’m understanding correctly ?”

your lip quivered, his eyes still in your figure that refused to look at him, fez reached over to your chin once’s again turning your face, to look at him at his blue eyes, that held every memory you two had together. you were still crying. fez didn’t know what to do. both of you sat there in silence for a few minutes. as he tried comforting you, but it was so hard to because, of everything all his memories flashing through his eyes all at once. and so he made his final decision.

“i think, you should go.”

he said more calmly that before. you looked over at him biting your lower lip, as you were still unresponsive. you didn’t know what shattered you the most, if the fact that your boyfriend had technically dumped you, or, the fact that you had lied to him for months. you felt like shit, complete shit. so when he pulled over to your house one last time as if your relationship meant nothing, unlocking the car doors without saying goodbye, that was your breaking point.

••••••••

it had been 2 years since then. you were at east highland again. visiting your cousin, maddy. as you both talked on her bed, your mind still containing of only fezco, and what he was up to right now, you wondered if he got another girl now, if he was doing better without you.

“bitch are you even listening?” maddy asked, you sighed rolling your figure to look up at maddy standing infront of her mirror fixing her hair to go to a party with her for the first time, since you’d met fezco that summer night. you sighed.

“sorry- i wasn’t paying attention, what’d you say?” you asked, maddy groaned as she continued fixing her hair with styling gel.

“i said, that i know you have a thing with fezco, y/n”

your eyes widened at the name, laughing nervously, letting out a ‘whattttt’ as the girl tuned to look at you once again, her eyes serious, you knew there was no getting out of this.

“you think i didn’t notice all those times you would sneak out? or when you cried the last day here?” she asked.

“shit, i didn’t know i was that obvious..” you said trailing off, maddy chuckled slightly sitting down next to you as you layed down facing up staring into space.

“he asked me about you y/n” maddy said as he paused looking over to you, as your eyes softened. he definitely still had the kindness you admired so much, she continued “he kept coming up to me at party’s when i was with kat and cass pulling me over to ask about you. trust me y/n, when i say i’ve never seen someone more fucking in love than fezco” she said, you chuckled again this time, a real chuckle. she sighed as she layed down next to you making eye contact with you.

“give him a chance” she encouraged.

you sighed.

“maybe i will”

[khuzena]

Hello! Could you do headcannons for Phoenix, Omen, and Yoru with a s/o that struggles a lot with paranoia? Like, they constantly feel like they're being watched and it gets in the way of sleeping sometimes. I've been struggling a lot lately so this would be cool. Thanks! :)

Paranoid

Phoenix, omen and yoru x g/n!reader

Tw: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

*gets writer's block* anyways I've been posting rlly slow and i just wanna say im sorry but I'm having a hard time doing the recs due to lack of motivation, I'll try to do all of them but im focusing on non smut fics for now

Phoenix

In the early stages of your relationship he was already aware of your paranoia and brushed it off because he thought it's just gonna go away.

Oh boy was he wrong; every night he'd check up on you at night, he'd go to your room and kiss you goodnight but on the next day you were still awake with eye-bags and noticable trembling hands.

He wanted to figure out what was wrong so he went online to search about it and he thought you had insomnia.

Before you slept he bought you insomnia pills, put it on your counter and said that you should take it because it might help.

You giggled at his ministrations, it wasn't exactly what you needed but his heart was in the right place, instead you told and educated him about Paranoia on how it's been a while and it has been reoccurring every night.

Phoenix was confused at first, nobody's here at your room at night? Is it because cypher's stalking you again? He still doesn't know why but he tries to help.

It was 11 pm but he wanted you to have a good sleep right now, he felt dejected that you're struggling with this and he was your boyfriend, he was supposed to know but he didn't.

As you lay down the bed while staring into oblivion, he snapped you out of it and held your palm, trying to crack up a stupid joke so you'll feel a little better.

"Do you know that yoru looks like mordecai? You get it? Ha—hah..."

It did help a little bit but not really, phoenix decided to just lock your doors, make sure not even a crevice is seen from outside and lay down in bed with you, slithering under the covers and tightly holding your body.

He asked if you were ok that he's doing this but you don't mind, he starts asking you about life to distract you from these bad thoughts and it's actually helping.

In a few minutes, he'll kiss you again and question you if you're alright now so you could both sleep, you replied that you were ok so he took that as a good sign.

Though in the middle of the night you'd be trembling in his arms and he'd jolt back awake asking you what happened, when he heard you saying that you felt watched and awkward again, phoenix kept reassuring you that no one's around other than him and that if there was any asshole who tried to creep on you, their noses would be broken and they'll be burnt. (Im talking about you cypher)

Omen

Every night, omen would just stalk you in the shadows to make sure you're safe when you're sleeping because he doesn't need sleep after all.

But when you confront him that you felt scared when he watches you in the middle of the night with glowing eyes he'd ask you why though? Omen's only doing this to protect you at night so why?

After you explain to him that you had paranoia and that you felt really uncomfortable being watched he'd stop.

Even though he stopped watching you at night, he noticed that you were still paranoid as shit and couldn't sleep for days straight.

In the middle of the night again, he'd sneak in your room but when you noticed him you were trembling but soon calmed down when omen shushed you that you're going to be alright because he's here.

Omen would hold you against his chest and would stay still for the entire night so you could sleep better.

If you did randomly tremble in your sleep because you had a nightmare that someone was out there to come get you and hurt you, he'd be rubbing your back and would try to tell you to calm down and he's here.

He's not the best at comforting you but he tries and it still works.

Yoru

He's the absolute worst when it comes to dealing with your paranoia, disappointed but not surprised.

When he found out you had paranoia, he even laughed in your face that you were weak for thinking about that.

But you started avoiding him and he starts bugging you about why did you but you shut him off and slam the door on his face.

He ran to jett and the others for advice and he'd come to the realization that he was an ass and he deserved it.

After a lot of thinking, at 12 am he knocked on your door quietly and started banging on the door aggressively and saying that you should open the door.

Well that worsen your paranoia but you open the door with tears in your eyes, thinking you did something wrong but he just came to apologize for what he did.

You explained to him what you experience at night especially if it's dead silent and it's too uncomfortable for you.

He holds your hand and tells you that no one's going to get you as long as you're with him.

Yoru would never leave you alone when you sleep, even if you disturb his sleep when you get nightmares he doesn't give a shit, as long as you're ok he doesn't mind.

Yoru's happy because you feel safe in his arms at night, he won't admit it but the big smile on his face when he cuddles you while you're sleeping says everything that he's too shy to admit.

Naur I did not just not write or updated in like what 5 days or idk but I've been out of motivation and god did this took every energy i have for this day. Though thank you for waiting, once again also thank you for reading and requesting ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

[littlesilentrebel]

it’s been nearly 2 thousand years since Percy Jackson has died. poseidon has not been seen much after his favorite sons death.

it’s raining and a new camper is being chased by a monster. they get to thalias tree and rip off one of its branches. the child uses it to kill the monster, just before passing out. their father got kidnapped by a god that needs their help. poseidon does not like this parallel

the first person they talk to is chiron, trainer of heroes.

“so what’re saying is that im the child of a god?”

“yes young man, that is correct.” chiron responded while giving the tour to the boy.

“so then it’s my mother that a goddess, correct? do you know who?” he asked as he turned to face the centaur.

“im sorry, but i do not know who your mother is. she could be a minor sea god…” chiron said as he subtly looked towards cabin 3, the poseidon cabin. the cabin that hasn’t been touched in 2 thousand years.

“oh.. well why do you think it’s a sea god? is it because i like water? is it because i kicked the monsters ass while it was pouring??” the boy said as he mimicked punching movements.

“yes, that is why i think that…” chiron said as he continued moving.

the centaur and the boy continued on the tour for a few more minutes before chiron suddenly said, “you remind me of someone.”

this caught the boys attention and he turned to five chiron, “hmm? who do i remind you of?? were they a child of a sea god??” the kid was jumping on their toes and gasped at something they had thought of, “did they come to camp the same way i did???”

chiron turned to look away from the boy, he had dark brown hair, with one sea green eye and on sea blue eye. he had never tried so hard not to cry in his life, he hated how much this 12 year old reminded him of him. he knew if he said this out loud poseidon would not be happy, so he said it wasn’t too important but that, ‘yes you two did come here the same way’ and finished the tour.

—————————a few hours later —————————

“dionysus, they’re so similar it hurts.” chiron said as he sat down across from the god. dionysus no longer worked at the camp, but he had grown fond of it and decided to pop it to help and chat every now and then.

“yea, i know. and if they are a child of a sea god- any sea god, im not too excited to see what barnacle beard would say about that.” the god said as he took a sip of alcohol, “anywho- do you know what the kids name is? cuz i know i sure don’t.”

chiron turned his attention from the ground next to him to the god in front of him, “im sure i had asked his name, but i don’t think i was listening. can’t seem to remember it.”

the two sat in comfortable silencing for a few seconds before they hear the new camper yell, “I GOT CLAIMED!”

chiron and dionysus went out to see who the boys mother was and say a holographic owl above his head, athena, goddess of wisdom and strategic war.

“ah, good’ol war goddess, guess he’s not a sea spawn.” dionysus commented to the right of chiron as the centaur moved forward.

“hello young man, i have a short question for you,” chiron said, then proceeded when they boy said he could ‘ask away’, “what is your name again? many years working here makes it hard to keep track of all the names.

“fair enough for not remembering, i also have memory issues!” chiron laughed at that, “anyways my name is Percy Jackson!”

[gucciwins]

Golden Sparks 

Harry is new to town and signs up his eight-year-old daughter, Josie to the soccer team where he takes an interest in the well-respected Coach Y/N.

Word count: 25,027 

A/N: Hello friends! I hope you’ve been well, honestly I had this idea for a while and it wasn’t until I stepped back from another piece and came back this one that it began to flow. im proud of what I wrote and I hope you enjoy. my longest piece to date :) I do hope you all love it. 

Warnings: sweet dad harry, slight angst, slight smut

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

"You're going to do great."

"I know, dad." Harry's eight-year-old daughter responds.

"Hey, I'm being supportive." Harry shakes Josie's foot, causing her to laugh.

"Thank you, I'm excited. Honest." Josie puts her hand over her heart, making Harry's heart melt.

He hadn't seen his daughter smile this much since they found out about the tryout that was soon to start in fifteen minutes. He felt awful making her move from their home in Georgia, but it was time, and this new opportunity would be good for them. Josie hated to leave her friends but mostly her soccer team with whom she had been with since she started playing at the age of five, but Harry promised he would find her a team, and he did.

The team was different from back home, seeing as it was an all-girl team instead of a mixed team of boys and girls. Not that he minds; he feels this will hopefully allow Josie to branch out and make friends that would not pick on her for playing what they said was "a boy's game." Those parents pissed him off back in Georgia, but he's gone, and he prays this goes well.

"Do you think mom will visit my games more now that we're closer?" Josie's green eyes peer up at him, reminding him that she looks nothing like her mother and is his little clone.

"I hope so. She was excited to hear about the move, remember." Josie nods before glancing at the field where other girls were chatting as they laced up their cleats.

Harry despised his ex-girlfriend, the mother of his child. At the age of nineteen, he became a father, and his ex, three years older than him, didn't want to raise a child to a man who wouldn't marry her. They were together for two months when he called it quits until she came back a month later, calling him an asshole for getting her pregnant. After giving birth to his beautiful girl, she gave him full custody, not wanting to worry about diapers and night cries.

All she worried about was getting her figure back. It wasn't until Josie turned one that she came back and demanded to be part of her life, leading to them going to court and getting to see Josie on the weekends, and it went well because his daughter always came back happy after a visit. When Josie turned five, Claudia moved to California because she fell in love and was going to get married. Claudia didn't care that she was leaving Josie behind. A heartbroken girl not knowing why she couldn't be part of her mother's wedding and why she moved across the country so far from her.

Josie cried for a whole week straight until the ice skates showed up on the front door with a note from Claudia for Josie to chase her dreams. Thus, having Harry sign her up for ice skating classes came to an end in two short weeks when she learned how awful the leotards looked on her.

Josie was then determined to find a sport liking the idea of being active and having the chance to make friends, which led to her seeing soccer on the TV when a commercial of Alex Morgan for Nike came on. She asked question after question until Harry told her okay, and went to call a friend to see where he could find a team for her.

The first team they found was only boys, not wanting to mix, causing both of them to get upset, but a mom took pity on them and told them of the Sunnyville team looking for players. It was perfect; seven girls and eight boys were on the team, and Josie fit in perfectly until she didn't.

At first, Josie wasn't very good; no kid is, but Harry every night took her to their large backyard and practiced with her, and within a few months, she was able to dribble a ball at her feet without looking down constantly. She wasn't the best, but she was improving.

Harry enjoyed every minute he got to help her improve because within the next few years, he saw her go from being timid to push someone away from the ball to beating someone in a sprint.

California was a significant change for Harry and Josie, but this was a big deal for the company, and Josie understood. He was happy he could do something for her now it was her turn to shine and prove why she deserved a spot on the team.

"Now go prove why you're the best, petal." Harry kisses his daughter's forehead, taking her bag over his shoulder.

She takes a step forward before stopping. "Walk with me there, daddy."

Harry's smile softens, "Of course, honey."

They march forward, their steps in sync; Harry can feel eyes on both of them as they pass parents in their chairs, some sitting on blankets spread out on the grass.

There's a woman, dressed in black Nike sweats, some fancy Nike cleats on her feet and a plain maroon tank top and over to cover from the breeze is a windbreaker; the team logo on the left side over her heart and right under is a name he can't quite make out. If Harry's being honest, she took his breath away, she's gorgeous, and she's smiling at him. Harry's sure if he kept looking into her eyes, he would fall in love.

"Hello, I'm Coach Y/N." She greets them with a big smile on their face.

"Hi, I'm Josie, and this is my dad, Harry Styles." Josie steps forward, holding her hand out that the coach is quick to shake.

"Nice to meet you." Harry finally speaks.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles. I've got all the paperwork that you submitted, and everything looks good."

"That's great." Harry nods, keeping his eyes on her. "Just Harry is fine, please." She nods, letting him know she heard him.

"Nice accent, you English?" Y/N asks.

"I am, Josie was born there too, but she's lived in the states all her life."

Y/N nods, "No wonder I didn't spot an accent on her." She teases.

"My dad sounds funny, so one of us is okay." Josie jokes at Harry's expense.

"Hey now," Harry pouts, causing both to laugh and his heart to flutter, wanting to make Y/N do it again.

"Now, Josie, how about we introduce you to the girls before we get started."

Josie nods and steps forward to follow Y/N.

Y/N addresses him one last time, "You're welcome to sit by the parents or welcome to stand behind our bench on the sidelines."

"Thank you." Harry watches the walk away, his daughter's bright pink socks standing out around the flash of black, green, and blue. He smiles, knowing he'll have a good eye on her, as will the coach.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It has been a while since the team had a tryout for the Golden Sparks team. It has not been necessary because most of the young girls are already on the u-9 team.

She had heard the rumor of new people moving into town but wasn't sure, so on a whim, she added them up in places parents were bound to see them; at the grocery store, doctor's office, the school, and the local sports store.

Thanks to the flyers, they got two responses from Mr. Styles and Mrs. Clover, who wanted their girls to join. Mrs. Clover's daughter, Caitlyn, was switching over from a different team, so she knew the girls on the team well. Josie, the daughter of Mr. Styles, would be the only one who needed an introduction as she was new to the town.

After meeting Harry, she was surprised at how handsome and young he was. Most parents here are well over the age of thirty and are married or dating.

She has been coaching for four years now and only started because of her niece Juliet who is part of the team. Y/N's older sister, Clara, had Juliet at 23 a year after her wedding and when Y/N was only 18 and about to start university. It was a good thing she had decided to go to university only three hours away and not across the country as she first thought, or she would have missed so much of her niece's and goddaughter's life.

Y/N had just graduated and knew she would no longer be playing soccer and needed something to do when her sister Naomi approached her and asked her if she could watch over Juliet for the summer so they didn't need to get a babysitter. She was more than happy to accept.

At first, they would paint, color and dance, but they got bored quickly. Y/N wasn't one to spend her time inside, so instead, she decided to take her four-year-old niece to the park with a soccer ball and make the most of it.

At the local park, they both ran around each day, chasing the ball for hours. A week later, Y/N bought Juliet her first pair of cleats, letting her shoot in the nets. As the weeks went by Y/N, saw Juliet improve as well as take direction well. She was a bright young girl, and Y/N knew she was still small, and all she wanted to do was run, but Y/N knew that because Juliet had seen her play, she knew what was right and wrong. There were times when she just ran in circles picking flowers because, after all, she was a four-year-old.

A month into summer, a mom approached her, asking her if she was a coach because she saw her there every day. Y/N laughed it off and told her she was just taking care of her niece. The mom told her it was a shame because her daughter told her it looked like fun. Y/N smiled and said to her that she was welcome to join, and before she knew it, a bunch of little girls came together to kick a ball around.

Only when Y/N had over ten girls showing up every Monday and Wednesday at a designated time did she begin to look at soccer leagues for children, and to her luck, there was one in town, an all-girls league that started from age 4 to age 18. She got the paperwork required for her to be a coach and for the girl's parents to fill out. She pitched the idea, and everyone was aboard.

That is how Golden Sparks was created, and those four-year-olds are now eight. She has watched them grow in front of her eyes. She went through her master's coaching a team. It's just something she does as a hobby, and it's wonderful because she knows how vital her coaches were for her when she was growing up. Now she can do the same.

She loves these girls, which means she had to do trial runs for how well the new girls fit in with the team dynamic. That is why today is an important day for Caitlyn and Josie.

"Ladies, may I please have your attention?" Y/N calls out to all the girls trying to juggle their individual balls as they wait for her.

The girls quickly shuffle over, passing their balls to Kate, who is setting up both nets and getting out the bright pink pinnies that Emilia's parents donated to the team that the girls will be needing.

Josie is standing very close to Y/N, and Caitlyn comes to stand to her other side.

"Now, today's practice is going to be different. We have two guests today. We have Caitlyn, who comes from Ice Angels from across town, and Josie, who comes from Georgia all the way across the country. I hope you will be kind and welcoming because we would be honored to add them to the team."

Juliet raises her hand and smiles, waiting for Y/N to let her speak. "Yes, Miss Juliet," Y/N giggles.

"Can we say something interesting about ourselves when we introduce ourselves?"

"Now, that is a smart idea. I wish I would have thought about it." All the girls smile, waiting for her to share.

"I'll start, I guess." She puts her hand on her hip, exaggerating her thinking face. "My name is Y/N, and I'll be your coach, and something interesting is that I like to paint." She turns to Kate, who is standing there, arms crossed. "You're next."

"I'm Kate, the meaner coach,"

"Kate," Y/N chastise.

"Kidding," Kate laughs, capturing all of the girls' attention. "I'm the assistant coach, and I love making tamales. Next potluck, you'll know how amazing they are."

Kate volunteers Steph, standing next to her, allowing her to share, and before she knows it, all the girls have gone. It's a calm environment, and Y/N is happy she can help these girls be a part of that. There were a total of fourteen girls, sixteen now with the two new girls trying out, meaning they would have even teams of eight, just one more than in an actual game.

Y/N makes two teams by dividing her forwards, midfielders and defenders. Then the scrimmage vest were handed out to the team where the new girls were trying out.

"Four twelve-minutes quarters," Y/N shouts, and in the next second, Kate blows the whistle, and they begin.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was sweating, his focus was on Josie and how well she was playing, but he also noticed how the coach was whispering to her assistant coach. They were doing a lot of talking, and he did not like it one bit. They had finished two quarters and took a more extended break before the third, where Josie shot him a thumbs up after drinking water. She was too busy talking to a girl to come see him. Harry was happy she no longer felt nervous and was making friends.

He had heard nothing but good things about Golden Sparks and their coaches, but he was nervous about what they thought of his daughter. When they blew that final whistle, Harry let out the breath he was holding. Thankful that Josie would be told her fate on the team.

The coaches rounded them up, and Harry just wanted to rush over there and have them tell him there and then, but no, they were dragging it out for him. Then again, they had more than one player to look after for.

"Golden Sparks!"

It was shouted out by all the girls, and they rushed over to their bags. Josie walked to her bag, handing her pinnie to the assistant coach while Coach Y/N made her way over to another parent. A young girl with a long french braid made her way to the coach, most likely to talk about her fate on the team. Harry moves his gaze away from them when he spots Josie chatting away to a girl about her age, wearing a black top with the team's logo on it. Usually, after practice, she rushes over to Harry, and she slips out of her cleats in the car. It makes him emotional seeing her make friends, something she didn't have many in her previous team.

Before he knows it, the coach talks with Josie and the other young girl before she nods and gets up, swinging her bag over her shoulder. The three of them make their way over to Harry, chatting softly, not allowing him to hear a word.

"Hi, petal. Did well out there." Harry tells his daughter once she's an arm's length away. He frowns when she doesn't rush into his arms to give him a hug.

"Yeah, it was fun. Everyone is so kind." Josie smiles at her father.

"Mr. Styles," Y/N begins, but Harry has to interrupt.

"Harry, please."

"Sure, Harry," she emphasizes. "Josie is a wonderful player."

"I agree."

"But," Harry frowns, knowing this is not going where he would like it to. "Josie tends to hold the ball too much. When given the opportunity to use her left, she takes that extra pass to switch to her right where it causes her to lose momentum and the opening."

"I get it, she's not perfect, but neither are those players out there."

"Dad." Josie gives him a glare to be quiet and listen.

"As I was saying," Coach Y/N, her voice just a bit less friendly. "She has flaws, but we noticed she has lots of speed; she controls the ball really well. She's stellar in the midfield."

Harry shifts his eyes to Josie, who is holding back a smile, and that is when he knows she's in. "We'd love to have her join the team and help her become an even better player."

"That's wonderful, I accept."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm glad you think it's a good idea, but it's Josie's choice to make."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Josie, honey." He steps back, a tad embarrassed.

Josie lets out a nervous laugh, "I had fun."

"How long have you played?" Y/N asks Josie.

"Three years now," Josie says, looking at Harry for confirmation and nods.

"The most important question is how you felt playing with everyone?" Y/N knows how important feeling welcomed to a team can mean to someone.

Josie looks up at her, a smile on her face. "Like I belonged."

"Does that mean you're joining?" The young girl standing behind Y/N answers.

"Yes. I would love to join." Josie says, a grin taking over her face.

"Well then, welcome. Practices are 5-7pm. Sometimes we can have a scrimmage with other teams, and it will be an hour before or after just to take that into consideration. Games are on Saturday, but when we have tournaments, they are Saturday and Sunday."

"That's great. I sometimes get out of work late." Harry confesses.

"It's why practices are later because we know parents work. So just shoot us a text the day before or early morning, and either Kate or I can pick them up as well as other parents. We're great with carpooling."

Harry smiles; he likes how organized they are. He has no worries about Josie joining the team. He's happy, and if he's honest, he is kind of glad to see more of Coach Y/N.

"It was great to meet you, and I'll see you on Monday for practice," Y/N tells both Harry and Josie.

As they are going to walk away, the young girl in two dutch braids speaks, "Auntie Y/N truly is the best. She's the reason I play so well." Juliet tells Harry.

Y/N blushes, "Knock it off. Save the sweet-talk for Kate."

"She's your aunt!" Josie explains. "That's so cool."

"Harry, this is Juliet, my niece and the reason this team exists. I introduced her to the sport at age four."

Juliet nods, "Yeah, because she didn't want to rotten my head with television."

This causes all of them to laugh. Harry and Josie walk away with a smile on both their faces.

Yeah, they would fit just right in. It was beginning to feel like home.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been a month since Josie joined the team, and he's never seen her shine as much as she has since she joined the group. It's like she's a whole new little girl, he hates to admit it, but his little girl is growing right in front of his eyes.

They had recently had a team bonding; they headed to Kate's house to swim and do a little bonfire. Parents were allowed to stick around, but almost none did because they want their daughters to feel comfortable hanging out with their friends and be themselves. Also, all the parents trusted Kate and Y/N with their daughters because of the years of friendship.

Harry wanted to stay the first time, a bit fearful she wouldn't like it and also because he wanted to get to know Josie's coach better. He hadn't had many chances to chat her up, always getting a formal greeting and a goodbye. Harry can proudly say he has a crush on coach Y/N, but he wants to have a chance to take her out and maybe take it further.

Josie begged and begged him not to stay, so he just did a quick hello and then left. What did he do in the four hours his daughter was gone, nothing. He was bored without her. Harry began to watch a movie he'd been dying to see, but it was boring. He went to call his best mate, but it went straight to voicemail, then remembered it was date night for Mitch.

He couldn't drink because he wanted to pick Josie up even though he knew she could carpool, but he wanted to hear all about it right away and maybe get one more glance at Y/N because she looked lovely in her pastel pink shirt, black leggings, and a matching scrunchie. His feelings only grew each time he saw her, but he wouldn't dare pursue anything because his daughter adored Y/N, and he wouldn't do anything to wreck that.

It was Monday, and he was driving his daughter to practice. She was on a high because she spent the weekend with her mom. Claudia managed to make her soccer game and then took her home for the week. Everyone got an insight of his ex and how she was not the kindest, but sure did adore her husband by the way she kissed him the majority of that game. Harry did not want to sit next to them, but she wanted to flaunt her relationship in his face to his luck. Not that he cared one bit, he just cared about his daughter's happiness. That she happened to be a part of.

After they won the game, she sprinted over to them after Y/N congratulated them on the win, and they finished shaking the other team's hands. Josie wrapped her arms around Harry, squeezing him tight before hugging her mother, who just patted her back before letting her go congratulating on her goal.

Claudia's interactions with Josie always made Harry upset, but what was he to do? She gave him full custody and only saw her on weekends. It was easy living, but that doesn't mean he had to like it. He wanted his daughter to have a mother figure to guide her and show her the right and wrong to show her what it is like to be strong and resilient, yet Claudia was none of that for his daughter. Sarah, Josie's godmother, did more of that, and Harry was thankful.

Showing up to practice, Harry was embarrassed and hoped Y/N didn't bring up meeting his ex-girlfriend. Josie was quick to introduce them, but thankfully the conversation didn't last long as she was called over by the other team's coach.

"Can you drive any slower?" Josie pouted, looking out the window as Harry entered the parking lot at a safe speed in case any person happened to cross in front of him.

"Josie, I'm not trying to run anyone over." Harry sighs as he finally eyes an open parking space and signals left, always cautious about an accident.

"Well, I want to talk with my friends before practice." Josie has unbuckled herself and is close to throwing herself out of the car.

Harry puts the car into park, unlocking the car door. "Fly, young one."

The grin that takes over Josie makes Harry happy. "Love you, dad."

"Love you too, Josie."

Harry slides his sunglasses on, hating how bright the sun was; it'd be a few hours until the sunset. He was nervous; he was dressed in black slacks that hugged him in all the right places with a mint button-down shirt that calls attention. He didn't have time to change today; everyone saw him in his casual clothes, never his work attire. Josie said she didn't mind, but he did. Honestly, he was nervous about what Y/N might say about his look. Not that he cared what she thought. Not one bit, right?

He went to his trunk, got out his purple folding chair, and left the matching one there. Harry is a sucker for deals which is why he walked out of the store with two when he only needed one.

He strolled, making sure no eyes were on him, and he was in the clear until he heard a shout, "Dad!" He looked over at the field, and it was Josie waving at him to sit closer to the parents. Harry shot her a thumbs up; he liked the parents genuinely. They have all been so kind and welcoming, telling him the best places to go for the team's discount.

He got along well with Payton's and Stephanie's parents. They had a good sense of humor and liked asking him questions about where he was from and how Josie was growing up. His daughter had become best friends with Juliet. They were two peas in a pod, talking from the beginning of practice to staying almost ten minutes after as they slowly took off their cleats.

Y/N didn't mind seeing as she had to pick up everything, and the girls were eager to help her if it meant spending more time together. Honestly, she was begging for a sleepover, but he kept telling her no because he wanted to meet at least one of her parents first. He wasn't sure what either one did, but Juliet didn't mind if they couldn't make it to a game because her biggest supporter was already there.

Harry approaches where all the parents sit under a shaded tree, waving at everyone before taking a seat next to a man reading on his kindle. He smiled, knowing he loved reading in his downtime as well. This would be an excellent spot to sit, conversation or not he'd be comfortable, but first, an introduction was needed.

"Hello, don't mean to bother you, but I don't think I've seen you before. I'm Harry Styles. My daughter Josie joined the team last month."

"Well, Harry Styles, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about your daughter. I'm Xavier Torres, father of Juliet." Xavier responded with a bright smile on his face.

Harry doesn't hide his surprise. "I've been dying to meet her parents. She's a wonderful girl, glad our daughters decided to get along."

"Yeah, we come as often as we can, but Juliet always assures us she's fine. That she has the best auntie watching over her."

"Coach Y/N is great with everyone. I've never seen anyone so dedicated." Harry shares.

"She's always been like that. I met Clara in my second year of university. She was only fourteen then, but she was so caring. I wasn't introduced to the family until we've been dating for six months, and she was shy but always offered me water or cookies she had baked. I loved having conversations with her; she has always been the smartest person in the room."

Harry grins; this definitely grew his crush on Y/N.

"I hear they are begging for a sleepover," Xavier comments, breaking Harry from his thoughts.

Harry nods, "Yes, I kept saying no because I wanted to meet the parents."

Xavier smiles, agreeing they were the same. "Yeah, we had to meet the dad."

He's shocked Xavier doesn't ask him about a partner, but then again, Y/N could have easily mentioned meeting Claudia and her husband. Harry's grateful if she did not like having to explain how he's a single dad and how he wishes his daughter's mother would do better.

"Well, now that this has happened, I have no problem with a sleepover happening."

"Glad we're on the same page." Harry laughs, grateful, their daughters will be happy with them.

Harry and Xavier spend the entire two hours of practice talking. Harry has close friends, but he wouldn't be opposed to adding Xavier to his guys' nights that happen less frequently now. At the end of practice, they exchange numbers and promise to coordinate a date for the girls. It may be summer, but the girls are still keeping busy during the week instead of doing nothing.

The girls rush over to them at the end of practice, giggling at the two fathers still chatting away.

"Does this mean a sleepover can happen?" Juliet asks, squeezing Josie's hand she's holding.

Harry and Xavier share a look and nod. "Yeah, it can happen."

"Amazing!" Josie cheers jumping up and down.

"We have to plan a day that works for both of us, so it may be a while." Josie frowns but nods. Juliet does not accept it.

"Auntie Y/N can host it."

"Your auntie is going to do what?" Y/N says, sneaking up behind her tickling her sides.

Juliet lets out a loud shriek, not being able to escape her grip. Harry beams at Y/N loving how playful she is with her niece.

"You can host our sleepover. You aren't busy like daddy and Mr. Styles." Juliet says in one breath after Y/N let her go.

"I do have a job, you know," Y/n says in a sing-song voice. Xavier laughs as Juliet pouts. "But I do have more availability than your parents. I'd do it if both of you were comfortable with it." Y/N looks up at Harry and Xavier, letting them have the final say.

Xavier throws an arm over Y/N's shoulder and pulls her in a hug. "Of course, it's a yes; I'm always looking forward to a kid-free house."

"Rude, daddy." Juliet frowns, crossing her arms.

"Only joking, my little flower. How about frozen yogurt on the way home?"

"You're forgiven."

Y/N waits patiently for Harry to answer as he has a staring contest with his daughter.

He sighs, "Yes," Josie cheers, hugging Juliet. "Only if we're really not imposing on Y/N."

"Please, Harry. I'd be honored to have them over. I'm an excellent host, and my movie collection is amazing."

Juliet smiles. "She does, also the biggest backyard so we can run around and do whatever. There's also a pool." She whispers the last part.

"Enough speaking about my house. She'll get the tour soon enough."

"So it's settled," Harry tells them.

"Guess it is; send me when you guys decide. I'm free after twelve on Fridays, and I'll take them to the game on Saturday, of course, or we can do it after a game. All up to you, gents." Y/N gets it all out there, allowing Harry to breathe a little easier.

"Good," Xavier shouts.

"I'm going home, coming Julie?" As Xavier swings his chair over his shoulder. "Daddy, you have to help auntie Y/N. You just sat on your butt for two hours."

"Hey now, I watched you practice."

"I'm going to tell mommy, you know how she feels about you not helping Y/N. She'll give you an earful." Juliet sasses her dad.

"I don't know where you got all that sass from, but I know I'm going to hate it when you're a teenager," Xavier mumbles as he goes to get the goal nets put away.

Y/N laughs before turning to Harry and Josie, "I'll see you both on Wednesday. Have a good night."

Harry watches her walk away as she races Juliet over to the balls scattered around. He smiles at the ground, hoping he could one day make her laugh that much. He doesn't notice Josie watching him, and she grins, happy that maybe one day her daddy will smile as bright as Xavier does when speaking about Juliet's mom.

They walk hand in hand to the car, both comfortable walking in silence for what the future might bring them.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N enjoyed morning games as opposed to the afternoon, where the sun was blazing high. She had a hat that was helping with the heat, thankful she hadn't started sweating yet. She loves coaching, but during the summer, it isn't the most enjoyable.

"Hi, Coach Y/N."

She turns her head over her shoulder and sees Harry approaching. She checks him out, thankful for her sunglasses; he's got a black short-sleeve button-down that shines in the sunlight, letting her know it's expensive; he paired it with white linen pants and the beat-up Vans he always wore. He always looks good.

"Nice to see you, Harry."

"How are you?"

"Doing good, bracing the summer heat."

"Yeah, not so enjoyable."

"Ready for the game," Harry says, pointing to the field that will soon have fourteen girls running around.

"Yes, they have been working hard. I'm excited, and you?"

"Oh, nervous," he confesses.

"The girls are going to do great. If they start dozing off, then we can start to worry."

Harry laughs, knowing that she is right. It's about the girl's focus.

"How long did you play?"

"Too long." Y/N jokes.

"Haha," he laughs.

"I started at six and played up until I finished university."

"Wow! You must have been marvelous." Harry is amazed that someone can play a sport that long then go to teaching. He was never the most athletic, but he was a beast at ping-pong that was all hand-eye coordination.

"I would like to think I was good."

"You started coaching when?"

"The year I turned four, and soon enough I was running, and by four she bought me my cleats and bam! A team was created." Juliet answered for her.

"I'm pretty sure you told Harry this already." Y/N laughs playfully, nudging Juliet.

Juliet shrugs, "Just like reminding."

Y/N grins, "Okay, lovebug."

"Plus, you're a great coach."

Harry nods. "I can attest to that. All the girls love you, including Josie."

"And I love them," she tells him truthfully. "We don't get many new players, but we're happy to have Josie. She earned the starting spot as right-wing."

Juliet nods, jumping up and down, "Yeah, she's really good."

"Go on, start the girl with four corners." Y/N pats Juliet's back to get her to go on the field.

"Yes, ma'am." Juliet takes off running, talking to Kate, who helps her get started, and Y/N knows it's her cue to walk away from Harry.

"Good luck, coach."

"Thank you, Harry. See you after."

"Sure, of course. I'll be cheering for you. I-i-i- what-" Harry stutters while she stands there holding back a smile as she can see the heat traveling up his face. "I mean you and the girls. A-all as a team."

"Well, we appreciate it."

Harry watches her walk away, letting out a short laugh, not being able to believe he made a fool of himself.

The game was tied 1-1 with only eight minutes left. Harry could see Y/N was calm, voice firm when speaking to the girls. Lola was about to take a corner kick, he saw her take a step back, and Harry was ready for her to strike it, but instead, she shocks him as she passes to a player who ran up to her.

This startles the other team before Brenda sends it to the center midfielder, who passes it to Josie, who is screaming she's open. Brenda sends a through ball, and off his daughter runs. She gets a foot on it, looking at where the goalie stands. She makes the pass strong enough that the goalie doesn't stop it and just for Andy to tip it in, but it's too strong, causing the ball to go over the net. It's a miss but, everyone didn't mind impressed with the play.

The last few minutes were slow as both teams were tired out, and there was no chance for another goal in two minutes. When the referee blows the final whistle, all the girls bring it in, jogging over to Y/N and Kate as they all round up in a group hug. Harry can't hear what she's saying, but he knows it's reasonable considering all the girls are sporting similar smiles. He is quick to pack up his chair, ready to say goodbye to his daughter, who is about to have a sleepover with her coach and best friend.

The girls come back from clapping the other team's hand and are quick to go sit on the bench and take their shoes off. The clean-up was accomplished quickly today. Harry is waiting to talk to Y/N as she speaks with other parents. Caitlyn's dad praises her for that play, but Y/N is quick to tell him it was all the girls; they are the players. Either way, he hugs her, and Y/N pats the older man back softly. She waves goodbye to most girls when he finally gets to approach her.

"Great game today."

"Yes, they played well." Y/N agrees.

"Your coaching reflects on them."

"In a good way?"

He nods, "The best way."

She thanks him, and he knows she's not one to be boastful, so he changes the conversation.

"You are still good to take them for the sleepover."

"Of course, I'm excited."

"That's great. What time should I pick her up tomorrow?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention earlier, my sister and brother-in-law are coming to have dinner if you'd like to join us. Xavier has been dying to use the grill, and you'll get to meet my sister and my nephew."

"Juliet never talks about a brother."

Y/N chuckles, "It's because he barely started walking, so he doesn't hold much of her attention."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"She loves being a big sister, but only when he sleeps or plays blocks."

"Older siblings got to love them."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you have a sibling?"

"I do. She's 35 and lives in London and runs a law firm. Total badass."

"I bet she is."

"If she ever stops and visits, please bring her around and would love to get all the dirt on young Harry Styles."

"Only if I get to do the same."

"Stop by Sunday, and you'll get the chance." She shrugs at him as she walks away.

"See you Sunday then." Harry shakes his head smiling as she grabs a bag of soccer balls and begins walking to the parking lot.

Josie runs over and gives him a big hug. "See you tomorrow, daddy."

"Bye honey, call me if you need anything."

"Sure, I love you." She yells as she runs to Y/N and Juliet, who are waiting for her at the end of the grass.

Harry knows she's in good hands, but his heart can't help but miss his little girl. He'll see her tomorrow and Y/N as well. He ignored how hard his heart was thumping at his interaction with Y/N instead of letting himself get lost in the idea of the beautiful afternoon that was to come tomorrow.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N had a great time with the girls. She promised she would let them do their own thing and just supervise, but both girls wanted her involved. As soon as they arrived at her house, Juliet gave Josie a tour of her home, taking her room to room before they ended up in the backyard, both dressed in their bathing suits to go swimming.

She couldn't help but laugh, knowing how eager they were to go jump in the pool despite playing an intense game for an hour in the blazing sun.

"You little ladies must eat first before you can even think of swimming," Y/N says, arms crossed over her chest, knowing Juliet was going to try to fight her on it.

"Auntie, that's not what we want to do."

"Maybe so, but your tummy's say otherwise."

Josie steps over from behind Juliet to stand next to her. "I would like to eat. Dad says we need to regain all the energy we worked off."

"Your dad is a smart man, Jo." Y/N nods to the girl. "It's a 2-1 vote, then."

"Fine," Juliet groans dramatically.

The girls sit at the table as Y/n begins to boil pasta. She decides on pesto as she has had a craving, and both girls happily agree. In just thirty minutes, she serves the girls two even plates, and they have a flowing conversation. Mainly, Josie and Juliet do the talking, occasionally asking YN her opinion or a question they want her to answer.

After the late lunch, she sends the girls to wash up and meet her outside to lather them in sunscreen. She puts most of her dishes in the dishwasher and soaks her pans in water, wanting it to be easier to wash later when the girls give her a free moment.

"Thirty minutes we are waiting," Y/N tells them, the sun lotion bottle in hand.

"Come on, you believe in that?" Juliet asks.

"Okay, little miss rebel, since when do you always question everything I say." Juliet's eyes go wide, and she shrugs.

"Alright, listen. I adore you, Juliet, but it's not nice trying to take advantage of me because you have a friend over."

Y/N waits for her to say something, but she nods her head and moves to hug her around her waist. She hears her mutter a sorry, and when Y/N brushes her hair back, she sees Juliet move back to look up at her. "I'm sorry."

Y/N gives her a small smile. "It's alright. Now sit down so I can get your back."

Josie patiently waits her turn, and just as Y/N finishes Juliet, she speedwalks to the edge of the steps and sits on them, letting her feet get soaked. Josie sits patiently as Y/N spreads the sunscreen to her shoulders, then turns her to get her face and neck, allowing Josie to rub it into her legs.

"All done, Josie." She stays seated on Y/N's patio chairs under the shade. Y/N doesn't question her not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Is it okay if I go join Juliet?" Josie asks in a soft voice.

Y/N almost awes out loud at how polite Juliet is, "Of course, go on. I'll let you know when it's okay to go in."

Looking out at the spacious yard, Y/N frowns, getting lost in thought about how she has the perfect home, but it gets lonely. It might be time she looks into getting a pet. She'll have to go check the local shelter soon but knows she should think about it for a while longer.

The ringer of her phone tears her out of her head when she hears the splashing, "Is it, time auntie?"

"Yeah, sweetie, it is."

Quickly she swipes three pairs of goggles from the table just as she begins to hear their splashing paired with laughter.

"Are we playing mermaids, auntie?" Josie asks as Y/N steps into the water, relaxing in the cool water, not suffering from the heat.

"We sure are," Y/N raises the three goggles and hands over one to each of them.  

It's after two hours that they all emerge from the pool, deciding to head into the shower seeing as the sun has begun to set. She ushers them carefully to the shower letting Josie use the guest room and Juliet her room seeing as they are the only two rooms fully equipped with towels and shampoo.

After the three of them are clean and changed in the pj's, Y/N makes popcorn to snack on while they play a few board games. They switch from Uno to Candyland to Mancala. It goes on for a while until they decide to put on a movie deciding on Tangled.

It wasn't until a quarter to ten that Moana watched Maui sing "Your Welcome," they began to yawn and started trying to fight back to sleep. Y/N thought they would never go down to sleep because two eight-year-olds have too much energy. Y/N paused the movie and told them it was time to sleep. Neither girl put up an argument.

She guided them to the guest room that had become Juliet's over the years. The girls get tucked into bed after brushing their teeth.

"Thank you for a great day, Y/N," Josie whispers, grabbing her wrist, halting her, tucking their blanket.

Y/N smiles at the kind girl. "Of course, sweetie. It's been a joy having you here."

Y/N goes to Juliet, gives her a kiss on the forehead, whispering a quiet goodnight who already has her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She goes to Josie, who's looking at her with wide eyes. "Would you be okay with a forehead kiss goodnight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Y/N addresses the young girl.

Little does Y/N know that small comment was enough for Josie to seal Y/N in her heart forever for her kindness. "Yes, please." Bright green eyes look up at her with a small smile as she gives her a soft kiss.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Jo."

Y/N goes to her room and does her night routine taking extra steps due to getting more sun exposure today. She loves how she feels putting on moisturizer at the end of the night. She lays in bed under her soft white covers. Her eyes shut, and she begins to count backward. She reaches all the way to one and tries again but stops halfway, sighing, knowing there's no chance she'll sleep; she heads to the kitchen to make herself a tea.

With her chamomile tea in hand, she sets it on the chrysanthemum coaster on the side table, picks up the book she left there, and sets it in her lap as she turns on her television to Netflix, deciding on The Great British Baking Show to use as white noise. She presses play on where she last left off, forgetting the book in her lap as the bakers had to make a raised game pie for their signature.

Y/N had already watched collection three, but it was one of her favorites. She loved the bakers and liked watching Nadiya improve each episode. The technical challenge was getting started, the bakers reading their vague instructions to make the tennis fruit cake when she heard small steps down the stairs.

She turns around, spotting Josie making her way down, "Hi there, you alright?"

Josie just nods but continues towards her, joining her to sit on the couch. "Can't sleep?" Y/N asks to share her lavender throw blanket with Josie.

"Not really."

"Yeah, I get restless sometimes as well."

Josie stares, tilting her head as if trying to figure out why she can't sleep, "What do you do to try to sleep?"

"Well, I usually try to read a book in bed, but I decided tea and a bit of tv would help."

Josie nods, and Y/N can tell she's working up the courage to ask her something. "Can I please try with you?"

"Of course, would you like tea as well?"

"Chamomile?"

"Sure, that's what I was drinking."

"Daddy adds a bit of honey."

Y/N smiles, "Honey, I can do that."

She goes to the kitchen alone, getting Josie her favorite mug with bees scattered all around. As soon as she's done making her tea and checking it is at a suitable temperature, she brings it out to her. Y/N sees Josie has put play on the show.

Y/N just grins, happy the girl likes the show as well. "Have you seen this season?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nadiya is excellent," Josie comments as Nadiya wins first in the technical challenge.

"She is! I'm glad they picked her as the winner though she had strong competition against Ian and Tamal."

Both Y/N and Josie sit there in silence, sipping their teas, watching the bakers now try to make Charlotte Russe cakes for the showstopper. It's not until the presentation begins that Josie breaks their comfortable silence.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Well, uhh, sometimes I can't get my brain to shut down and have lots of thoughts swirling around."

"Oh," Josie responds. "Do they ever stop?"

"Yeah, usually when I count backward or tell myself a story."

Josie looks delighted at hearing Y/N sharing this with her. "What kind of story?"

"A sweet one, one my grandparents used to tell me, or I make one up."

"And it works?"

"Almost always."

Josie continues with her questions, but Y/N doesn't mind. "Do you get bad dreams?"

"Not always, but sometimes, do you, Jo?"

Josie smiles, "I like that."

"What?" Y/N says, puzzled, aware she avoided the question.

"Jo, dad calls me honey, darling, Josie and Josephine when I do something I'm not supposed to, but no one ever has said, Jo. I like it."

"Oh, I'm glad. It's alright that I keep calling you that then."

Josie repeatedly nods, "Of course."

Y/N looks back at the TV focusing on the new episode that started during the talk.

"Sometimes I dream I'm back in Georgia with daddy." Josie is looking down at her lap, where she draws a circle on the palm of her left hand with her right index finger.

"Yeah, how does that make you feel?"

"Sad sometimes and sometimes happy."

"Why is that?" Y/N asks in a soft voice.

"Well, mommy called me more when I lived farther away. Now I don't get to see her every weekend even though that's the deal. She doesn't even like watching me play."

"That must be tough, Jo. Have you shared this with your dad?"

Josie shakes her head no. "He'd get mad at mom, and I don't want anyone fighting."

"Don't think it's fighting. Your dad just wants the best for you and wants your mom to see that as well."

"I guess."

"Did you know I've visited Georgia?"

"You have?" Josie sits up, crawling closer to her, excited at the change in conversation.

Y/N nods, "My grandparents had family there, so every summer, we'd make our way there. Spent all our time at the lake or just walking through the woods. They lived in a secluded area, so lots to roam."

"We lived in the city."

"I bet you still went to neat places."

Josie thinks about it for a minute, "We did, the weekends were for the lake, and it was easy to drive to another state for a week."

Y/N laughs, knowing how exciting it was visiting a new state in a matter of hours compared to how hard it is in California. "Yeah, I liked that as well."

"What's your favorite memory?"

Y/N stops to think about it; it has been a while since she thought back to her times there. She hasn't had the chance to go back since her grandparents passed away.

"The fireflies. I remember we were in one of my uncle's backyard, and he was showing us his peaches. When I saw a buzz of light followed by another, and soon enough, they were all around us. My uncle tells me he'll never forget the look on my face because it was true happiness and disbelief."

Y/N's smile is nostalgic. If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can picture the fireflies surrounding her. She's brought back to the present when she feels a small hand placed over her own.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Josie says before she leans over, giving Y/N a hug.

Y/N laughs and hugs her back, happy she got to know this sweet girl better.

"I think it's time for bed."

"Okay."

As they begin walking up the stairs after making a stop in the kitchen to put their mugs in the dishwasher, Y/N stops outside the guest room.

"You're really wise for your age."

Josie nods, "My dad tells me that all the time."

Y/N can't help the smile that Josie draws out of her, "Goodnight."

"Night."

Y/N goes to bed with lots more on her mind. Her thoughts on the young girl who is caring more on her shoulder than she lets on. Josie has grown us quicker and doesn't realize it due to her experiences. Y/N goes wondering what tomorrow will bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

A lot was running through Harry's mind after the dinner he had on Sunday with Y/N and her family. Trust him; he enjoyed it. He adored seeing her in a different environment, but she seemed distant, and so did Josie. It's as if the two gravitated towards each other more. Always whispering to each other.

He enjoyed seeing them get along; he just didn't like not being included. This also made him second guess in pursuing Y/N. He wasn't willing to risk it not working out. Harry also knows he's not sure if he'd survive the heartbreak.

It's been a while since he's put himself out there, but as a single dad, he feared that no woman he had met was good enough to meet Josie, not after learning that he had full custody.

Y/N's sister was kind, always teasing Y/N but Y/N gave it right back. He could tell the love they had for each other was the kind he shared with Gem. They might not have been that close in age, but they appreciate each other better as adults. Harry loved Y/N's nephew, who stumbled every few steps he took, which is why Y/N took it upon herself to have him attached to her the whole night.

It warmed Harry's heart and gave him all kinds of crazy ideas, for example like a baby that was half him and half her that he'd love just as much as Josie.

Fuck, he had it bad.

Harry's thankful it's Wednesday, and he gets to see Y/N again. He didn't make practice on Monday having Sarah bring her, and today Y/n picked her up from his house where Mitch was watching her because he had a meeting that would be running long. Luckily, he made it just in time before the practice started.

He knew he was going to stand out, showing up wearing creamed flared trousers and a black silk button-down. Harry had taken off his cropped, lapel grey plaid jacket knowing the heat would eat him alive if he left it on.

Harry chuckled to himself as he walked from the parking lot; his folding hair swung on his shoulder. He waved to the parents before setting up alone under a tree, wanting to enjoy the shade today and no conversations unless it was from one specific person.

He sees her pocketing her phone in her bag and knows this is his chance to talk to her. He makes his way discreetly as possible, going behind the parents, who are all currently staring down at their phones.

"Y/N,"

She turns, she scans him head to toe quickly, not wanting Harry to catch her, but he does. He lets it boost his ego a little.

"Harry, a bit dressed up, no?"

He chuckles, doing a little spin for her. "Not at all, haven't you heard business casual is the new uniform."

She shakes her head at him, "We'll take it into consideration."

"That's all I ask."

Y/N looks over to Kate and motions for her to get the girls' warm-up started.

"Dinner was nice."

Y/N nods, "It was. My sister really likes you."

"That's good. She's really funny."

"She knows it." Y/N rolls her eyes playfully.

Harry knocks his hips into her, "Don't worry, you're still my favorite."

"Gee, I was so worried." Y/N fakes dramatically but isn't able to hide how her cheeks heat up at his compliment. "Now, you need to go sit. I have to coach. Parents are going to think I'm flirting."

Harry smirks, "I don't mind the flirting."

"Styles, you'd know if I was flirting."

"I'm just going to say that I very much am."

"Hmm, I'll take that into consideration. For our future conversations."

Y/N joins the girls as they are about to start their second lap; Harry slowly makes his way to his waiting chair, happy that Y/N might like him just as much as he likes her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Y/N pulled Josie aside before the scrimmage wanting to speak with her noticing she wasn't connecting with the team as she had on Monday.

"Doing okay?" Y/N asks as Josie gets a drink of water.

Josie nods, "Of course."

"Well, Juliet told me you didn't want to hang out. She said you had wanted to try that donut place with us on Friday."

"Because I had plans with my mom."

"Oh, that's fun."

"No."

"Why not?"

"She said she was busy," Josie murmurs.

"Well, you're still welcome to join us on Friday. I'm going to take Juliet to get ice cream at my favorite shop after practice. You're welcome to join." Y/N offers, knowing the little girl needs something to cheer her up.

"Does my dad have to come?"

"Not if you don't want him to."

Josie shakes her head no.

"Okay then."

"I'll go ask permission now."

"You can wait," Y/N laughs at her eagerness.

"No. I tell him now, and he can think it over while I play."

"Okay, sure. Don't take long."

Josie nods about to take off, but Y/n stops her. "Josie, I'm sorry your plans changed."

"She's been doing that more." She shrugs as if she's not bothered.

"Just because she is doing that doesn't mean you aren't loved. Your dad loves you and your godparents; the team does as well. I do, also. You're amazing, Josie." Y/N tells her, knowing Josie needed to hear it from somebody other than her father.

Josie's eyes shine, but she blinks the tears away. She gives her a quick hug before turning around and running towards Harry. From the corner of her eye, she sees Josie dramatically asking for permission as she lets her father retie the laces of her boots. Y/N smiles because she loves Josie, and if given a chance, she might also get an opportunity to love Harry. Y/N looks forward to watching what the future may bring.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Kate had organized a pizza party for the girls because they had been doing so well and thought they deserved a reward. Y/N and Kate always talked about motivating and encouraging the girls for their hard work and dedication. They would do small gatherings or bring them a treat to enjoy after practice, and the occasional Monday off that happened on significant dates or when they as a coach needed a break which wasn’t often because they loved this and the girls.

A pizza party was fun, it allowed parents to interact somewhere that wasn’t crazy hot, and the girls got to eat their weight in pizza. Y/N personally loved it because she got to eat crazy good buffalo wings. Kate and Y/N always shared a basket.

Y/N had sat in a booth with Kate across from her knowing the girls would take up two of the long tables. They rather not squeeze in between when they have a good view of them here.

“Anyone I should be aware of, Thomas, was it?”

“Uhh, no. He turned out to be a jerk who couldn’t get me off.”

“Gee any louder, Katie, would you.” Y/N smiles at Cynthia’s parents, who are in line waiting to order themselves around some beers. Y/N was never one who got into drinking, but it doesn’t bother her those who do.

“Anyways, the one who is coming is Tiffany, and we have been talking for a week, and I think I may be in love.” Kate sighs, a faraway look in her eye as the waiter drops by her beer. Y/N eyes it, not liking how much foam was in the cup.

“You say you’re in love each time.”

Kate rolls her eyes at Y/N, “Well, I mean it this time.”

“Sure.”

“No, you’ll see. Tiff should be here soon. She got the most gorgeous curls and the most perfect brown eyes. Then when she talks Spanish to me, I have an idea what she’s saying, but it turns me on like crazy.”

“I can translate for you.” Kate rolls her eyes, knowing Y/N’s Spanish was perfect due to her high school and college years, not to mention she took YMCA classes at seven. “Anyways, let us move on from the conversation.”

“Okay, let’s talk about your sex life.”

Y/N chucks a piece of lettuce at Kate hitting her square on her chin. Before Kate can retaliate, Harry steps towards them, “Hello, ladies.”

“Hi, Harry,” Kate responds by making crazy eyes at Y/N.

“Mind if I join you, don’t think Josie would like me sitting with her or alone.”

Y/N nods, “Of course, but only if you don’t mind sliding in. I like the edge seats, or you can sit with Kate.”

Kate shakes her head no, “No, he cannot. My date should be here soon.”

Y/N gets up to let Harry slide in, he does a little wiggle to get to the other side, and Y/N does her best to hide her laugh. It seems to work, as he didn’t mention it. Y/N feels her body heat up because their thighs are touching. She feels ridiculous getting worked up over a simple touch.

The next hour flies by, and Tiffany arrives during that time, and Y/N loves her. She is as gorgeous as Kate described, her hair long falling down her back in thick ringlets, her brown eyes captivating, and her golden skin shines with just a hint of sunlight. She can see why Kate was smitten, but getting to know her and Y/N can happily say she’s a perfect fit for her best friend. She hopes it works out for Kate because this will be a heavy heartbreak if it doesn’t.

Y/N excuses herself, wanting to check with the girls. She approaches the table sitting by the pinball machines. The girls have question after question for her that she happily answers. She looks to see Juliet, happily leading a conversation with a quiet Jo sitting next to her staring out the window.

She excuses herself from the girls and places a hand on Juliet’s shoulder, who stops her chatter to grin up at Y/N before continuing like she never stopped. Jo just smiles at her before looking at the other girls acting as she was involved in the conversation, but Y/n knows better.

“You alright, Jo?”

“Of course, a bit full, that is all.” Y/N stares at those green eyes long and hard before nodding.

“I’m just over there if any of you need anything.”

“Yes, thank you, coach.” Most girls answer in unison.

Y/N goes back to their table, and Harry smiles, scooting over, “Saved your spot. Susan tried to nab it.”

“My hero.” She giggles.

The conversation around Y/N flows easily; she laughs and comments. There is a moment where Harry squeezes her thigh affectionately when she makes a witty comment defending him and his style. She wishes he’d rest his hand there, but he moves it back on top, also not wanting anyone to be suspicious.

As much as Y/N is having a lovely evening, her gaze drifts over to Josie, who hasn’t uttered a word since she was with her.

Harry is too busy chatting and having a nice time to notice how quiet Josie has gotten, not that she blames him; the place is loud and complete because it’s a Saturday afternoon. This worries Y/n as she has seen Josie withdrawing more and more but didn’t want to believe it. Josie hides it reasonably well.

Y/N hopes she’s wrong and that sweet Josie is only having an off day.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry was happy to see Josie loving California. He knew it was a risk moving across the country when the East coast is all she had ever known. Josie has shown him nothing but happiness; he can't wait to see how she does in the Fall when she goes back to school. The great thing is she will have friends due to the girls on the team. Also, he hates to admit it, but it has been good for Josie to see more of her mom. Allowing them to build a better relationship. Harry only wishes the best for his daughter and hopes he has been doing that so far in her life.

It's Wednesday, and Harry feels his weeks go by faster now that they have a structured routine. He always gets excited because he knows that he'll have a chance to chat with Y/N no matter what.

They arrive five minutes before practice starts, making Harry rush out of the car, holding Josie's hand as she pulls him along, wanting to apologize to Y/N.

Y/N approaches them as they reach the area where all the girls have just started their warm-up lap.

"We're so sorry. We got stuck in a traffic jam." Harry rushes out, hating to get his daughter punished for his tardiness.

She shakes her head at him, not bothered. "Go on join the others, Josie," she gently touched her shoulder. "I've got to chat with your dad."

Josie gives her an uncertain look, but she assures her with a smile. She runs off, joining the second lap at the back of the two lines.

Harry stands there, uncertain, not sure what she needs to tell him. By the solemn look she has, it might not be good.

She walks off to the side a distance from the parents and has an eye on the girls finishing up their warm-up laps before going into a stretch.

"Josie brought up something I think you need to know."

Harry waits, allowing her to go on, knowing he shouldn't interrupt.

Y/N takes a deep breath before looking him in his eyes, "Josie says her mom told her she needs to stop calling her and to stop with the visits. That she's pregnant, and that's her priority, not her."

Harry's jaw drops. He didn't know Claudia could be so cruel to their daughter. He wasn't even aware she was pregnant or that she wanted more children. Mostly he hates that he does not hear this from his daughter.

"She told me she was afraid of how'd you react to the news, but I told her she needed to address it, and by your reaction, I assume she didn't."

Harry shakes his head. "No, we celebrated the win and had a good weekend. Seemed happier than normal honesty."

"It's common for kids to try to block it out. As someone who had to go through her fair share of child therapy, I feel like it would be good for her to see a therapist." Y/N tells him, voice gentle, knowing this is a lot for Harry.

"Why" Harry bites back, defensive. "She's fine, happy, and laughing."

"Harry, I'm not saying she's not, but she needs to talk about it. Jo won't be with you, and it's because she trusts and loves you and doesn't want to hurt you. She thinks she is protecting you; an eight-year-old shouldn't be trying to protect her father."

Harry feels himself boiling, no longer wanting to hear any more of what she has to say.  

"The signs are there."

The signs," he scoffs.

"Quietness, sadness, isolation, anxiety." She points to the field, and he turns to see Josie stretching alone, lost in her own head. No longer sitting between Juliet like she always had the last few weeks. A frown on her face seems to be permanently placed.  

"You've got no right to say this." Harry wishes she never brought this up.

"I'm doing this for her, not for you."

Harry has had enough; he wants her to hurt her like he is right now, which is why he lets his mouth speak before he can think over what he has said, "Who do you think you are? Honestly, you're a lousy soccer coach who has nothing better to do but judge kids and their parents."

"Harry," she whispers, trying to mask her hurt.

"No, you've said enough. I think you can forget about Josie playing for this team." His voice dripping with venom. "Seems all you wanted was extra cash in your pocket with the addition of a player ."

He walks towards the field. "Josie, we're leaving," Harry doesn't care that the other parents are watching now. He throws Josie's bag over his shoulder as he watches her jog over to him,

"We just got here. I was warming up."

"Josie, we're leaving." No room for argument in his voice, but Josie stands her ground.

"I don't want to leave." Her voice falters as she stares up at him.

"Josie, don't."

"Dad, I like it here, Coach is-"

Harry cuts her off, "Enough, Josephine, you're not coming back here ever."

Those words bring tears to her eyes; she drops her head, defeated. She follows behind Harry and turns to look at Y/N one last time, shooting her an "I warned you look."

Y/N watches them walk away, and she can only hope this is the last she sees of them. She shakes all her feelings out, knowing she has all eyes on her right now. She's got a team to coach, and just like that, she brushes away Harry and his cruel words, knowing they'll resurface later in the appropriate environment.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

After leaving the practice field, Harry And Josie did not speak a word to each other or the next day. They continued in silence, not for Harry's lack of trying to get a word out of Josie; she was just that upset with him.

All he received were head shakes, and Harry was worried. He cooled down after and let everything sink in, but the damage was done; it was too late.

That same night Harry called Claudia to confront her to tell her he would be taking her to court to forget seeing Josephine. All she responded was that it was quite alright. She was giving him full custody and would be sending him the paperwork she had already signed. Then hung up the phone on him.

Harry was appalled that a mother could do this to their child, to abandon them with no care. He always knew Claudia wasn't a good person, but he wished better for his daughter, and right now, even he didn't feel good enough for his angel girl.

On the fifth day of silence between his daughter and him, he received an email he was tempted not to open due to who it read the sender was. He did so anyway; it was the name, phone number, and location of a therapist nearby. The email read professional, not a hint of the last few months of knowing each other. There was an endnote that said to give her as a reference. He knew he would think it over for now.

On the seventh day of his daughter ignoring him, he called the number that he marked down on his phone. He called and set up an appointment for the following day; he knows it could have been longer if he didn't name drop Y/N. Harry knows he needs to apologize, but he's not sure where to begin or if it would be appropriate to show up at her house, but he decided to focus on one thing at a time, and that would be Josie.

Harry would have liked to walk hand in hand into the big building with big windows overlooking a secluded private park, but Josie walked ahead and sat herself on the rainbow-colored couches for kids and picked up a Judy Blume book to read.

Harry walks to the front desk and admires all the photos pinned up behind the receptionist. He knows they must be patients with only their first name signed. His favorite is a dinosaur swimming on a floaty holding a milkshake; there was some natural talent hanging on the wall as well as a lot of imagination.

"Sir, here for?" The receptionist called him for his turn, not noticing the person in front of him was now seated.

"Styles, Harry. Well, Josephine," he corrects. "Sorry."

"No worries, all parents do that their first time."

He awkwardly laughs.

"Dr. Sylvia Hernandedz will be with you shortly." He thanks her, going to sit on the black couch. He sinks right in full of comfort.

Five minutes later, they are called to go. He reaches for Josie's hand, and she lets him take it but doesn't make any move to hold him; it's as if he's carrying dead weight. Harry sighs but follows behind the receptionist.

"Hello, Styles family, lovely to meet you." A woman in her mid-forties greets them, a nice styled bun not a hair out of sight. Glasses on the bridge of her nose. She has a dark blue pencil skirt and a white buttoned shirt tucked in. He feels not as uncomfortable as he thought he would.

"I'm Syliva Hernandez, and you must be Josephine Styles." She leans down to be eye level with Josie and sticks out for her to shake.

"Yes, Dr. Hernandez. A pleasure to meet you." Josie responds politely.

Dr. Hernandez smiles. "Now, how'd you know I was a doctor?"

"The frame behind your desk shows your credentials." She points to the USC doctorate hanging behind a desk full of framed photos.

"Well, aren't you an observant girl?"

"Thank you."

"Would you like to accompany me to this playroom while I chat with your father? I can have my friend Alycia join you if you don't want to be alone."

Josie shakes her head no, "I'll be fine. I like being alone sometimes. I had a very wise person tell me it's okay to want to be alone sometimes, but it doesn't mean you're alone."  

"Did your dad tell you that?" Dr. Hernandez asks.

"No."

"Very, well off you go. We'll have an eye on you but feel free to use all the items in there."

"Thank you." Josie slips right in, grabbing paper and colored pencils, carefully pulling out her desired colors.

"Have a seat, please, Mr. Styles."

"Thank you."

He sits in the mahogany chair; he can't say he likes it much.

"These chairs are awful. My office is better furnished, I assure you."

Harry tears his eyes from Josie to look at the therapist.

They are silent, and Harry isn't sure what to do.

"Uhh...Y/N Y/LN recommend us to you. I'm not sure if they informed you or I had to let you know."

"Yes, I'm aware. She's a great person." Shutting down conversation.

"Your daughter's birthday."  

"December 13th, she's eight".

"How long have you been separated from her mother?"

"Since before her birth. We have a court agreement that I get weekly, and she gets her weekends, but that has recently changed. I have full custody of her.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Not okay; I grew up with divorced parents. My mother never remarried. I have an older sister, but we live in different countries."

"Do you fear the same for her?"

"Think it's worse for her. Josie's mother told her she didn't want her anymore because she would be having a baby. She didn't even tell me. She told--," he cuts himself off.

"Who did she tell?"

"Her soccer coach."

"A female?

"Yes. They are close. Have a real bond, an understanding of sorts."

"Do you think she is looking for a female to look up to?"

"It would make sense. My mother lives in London, and we only see her on holidays, same with my sister. She gets on well with my best mate's girlfriend, Sarah. She taught Josie to play the drums a bit. Also, Glenne, a dear friend."

"Male figures in life?"

"Too many. Mitch, Jeff, Adam, and his kids. Tyler, a family friend."

"It seems she has paternal figures, but she's searching for maternal figures." She states before continuing, "What's the reason you brought her in?"

"The coach addressed to me that she was worried that she was withdrawing herself, becoming anxious and lonely. Less happy. I didn't see it, but we've gone a week without speaking, and I've seen her mope and stare off a lot."

"Is she still seeing her coach?

"No, that's part of our not talking. I got upset over the suggestion of therapy and took that away from her."

"It led to a negative response."

"Yes, and I feel awful about it."

"It seems that the sport and coach are important to her and who she is. It's what you call a safe place."

"But she was beginning to withdraw from there as well," Harry states, not knowing it couldn't be so safe if she was isolating herself.  

"Well, we'll have to talk with her. Are you comfortable with me speaking with her alone? I do have to let you know what I speak with her is confidential. She can tell you about it, but you cannot ask me."

"Yes, of course. It's fine, I understand." Harry knows therapy can be scary, but it can also be the start of something better.

"Well, let me call her back."

Dr. Hernandez stands and opens the door, "Josephine, come with me, please." Josie nods her head, putting the colored pencils away and bringing her picture with her.

"I apologize if we took too long."

"Not long. Enough to finish my drawing." She shares, giving the doctor a small smile.

"Can I have a look?"

Josie hands it over, Dr. Hernandez turns it so they can both see what she drew. It's a photo of a goal net and who he assumes to be himself in the net. A little girl with two pigtails standing there, hands raised, and another female is to the side cheering with a megaphone.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," Josie says proudly.

"Do you think I can keep it? Have you sign your name and add it to the front desk."

"Would you?" Josie's eyes go wide at someone other than her dad hanging up her art.

"Of course."

"That'd be wonderful." And for the first time in a week, she turns looking up at Harry. "Did you hear that daddy, Dr. Hernandez wants to keep it?

"I would too; it's beautiful, darling."

"I can make another."

Harry smiles, grateful, his daughter is her vibrant self, "Thank you, honey."

"Josephine, are you okay with your dad stepping out and you talking with me privately one on one?

"Yes, I like you. Also, you can call me Josie."

Dr. Hernandez nods in acknowledgment before turning to address Harry.

"You can wait in the waiting room. Alycia will bring you back to discuss in my office when we are done."  

Harry mutters okay and walks out, closing the door behind him. He walks a few steps before laying his head to rest on the wall. This has felt like a lot, but he also feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder.

Maybe I need to see a therapist. Harry thinks to himself, liking that he got a lot off his shoulders in just a short amount of time.

He's walking down the hallway when he hears a familiar voice, one he didn't think he'd have the pleasure of ever hearing again.

It stops him in his tracks.

He hears her voice once more and follows it out to the waiting room he's supposed to be waiting for his daughter.

Harry sees that she is talking with Alycia, and as he steps closer, he feels like it is harder to breathe.

"I have three more clients before I'm done for the day, but I have a thirty-minute gap, so maybe we can order smoothies, my treat." She tells the secretary handing her two twenty bills so that she can get everyone a drink.

"Y/N," he gasps out.

His eyes roam her body; he's never seen her dressed, so office official always used to see her in shorts, sweats, leggings, and a t-shirt. She's wearing this blue satin silk blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers and low heels.

She is gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N turns, not at all trying to hide the surprised look on her face.

"You're here." She nods; he's not sure why she's here.

"Here's your next client's file. They are doing an intake. You have over half an hour."

"Great."

Harry is now standing in front of her. "You work here?"

Y/N nods.

"You're a therapist." He states.

Y/N can clearly see he wants to talk and knows a better place to do it than their waiting room filled with waiting people.

"Why don't we talk in my office?" Harry nods, ready to follow her, but before he can, she turns to the desk once more, "Hold my calls, please, Alycia."

"Of course."

"Follow me, Harry."

They walk in silence as they pass Dr. Hernandez's door. She opens her door, allowing him to enter first. It feels bright and full of color; the wall's painting is pale green and hanging on the walls; she has lots of scenic photos and drawings. The chairs are nice, a red velvet couch pushed against a wall, her desk is not that big, he notices. It lacks pictures compared to Dr. Hernandez. Her degrees are placed on a bookshelf. She has it color-coded in colors of the rainbow, which is quite impressive.

"Have a seat." She offers all the open space.

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, and he follows.

Harry feels underdressed next to Y/N, and that has never happened before; he is always the one showing up in extravagant and overpriced suits.

"You work here." He waits for her to confirm.

"Yes, I'm a therapist here. Dr. Hernandez was my advisor during my undergrad. She knew what I wanted to accomplish for my career. They offered me a job, and I accepted. They have been supportive of obtaining my doctorate."

Harry is very impressed, "Congrats, that's wonderful."

"Thank you."

They both quiet down, not sure who should go first. Harry is about to start when Y/N begins to speak.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry. I went about addressing it wrong, and I never meant to upset you. I apologize." Y/N keeps her eyes on his wanting him to see how sincere she was.

"No need, I've taken a week to reflect on what a jerk I was. Having Josie give me the silent treatment for a week was torture." Harry confesses, scratching his neck to avoid reaching for her hand.

"Is she okay? Harry, that's a long time." Y/N's voice laced with concern.

"I'm sure she's chatting Dr. Hernandez ear off as we speak."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I brought it on myself by taking her away from one thing she truly loves."

Y/N nods, not able to disagree with Harry. "Yeah, I understand."

"Is that how you know she needed therapy because you're a therapist?"

"Yes. I saw the signs, but I mostly observe and never address it, but from the conversations I've had with Josie and the relationship we built, I felt like I owed it to her to get her help." Y/N pauses, debating if she was ready to share more of herself with Harry. "It was also that I saw myself in her, it felt familiar, and I wanted to help."

"I'm going to tell you a story."

Harry can tell it's not going to be an easy one as she's not staring at her hand, focused on the lone ring she has on her index finger. "You don't have to."

She reaches over and squeezes his hand once to let him know it's alright. "I was nine years old when I walked in on my dad cheating on my mom with his secretary. I told her as soon as she came home and she didn't believe me. She went as far as calling me an attention seeker. By the end of the week, we were living with my grandparents. I didn't see my parents again after that day. At age ten, I started visiting the counselor because I blamed myself for my sister no longer having parents. I wouldn't even allow myself to talk to her; I was just consumed by guilt taking all the blame when I shouldn't have."

Y/N knows Harry's gaze is on her, but she doesn't dare look up, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes. "Don't think I've stopped since then. A big reason I'm doing the job I am now is for those who helped me along the way.

"Y/N,"

"Harry, no pity comments. I've made my peace, sure the trauma never truly leaves, but you overcome it."

"Thank you for sharing that with me, I know I don't deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Harry needs to apologize; he wants to leave here today knowing he didn't lose a friend.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Harry, you-"

"No, I really am; I didn't mean a word I said. I know you're more than a coach, and you're not lousy; you're brilliant. You're my daughter's favorite person. I didn't mean it, and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I accept your apology, that was a bad day for all of us, but I can move past it if you can?"

"Yes, I would love that. I feel awful you're someone I trust, a friend. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

"Thank you, Harry."

"One more thing."

"Yes, go on."

"Can you recommend a therapist for me? Talking with Dr. Hernandez was amazing, and I think I would benefit from it."

Y/N doesn't make any comment, just nods. "I'll send you a list of therapists but do know you'll always find a friend in me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to watch over you as you get drunk."

Harry chuckles; he'll keep that in mind for future references.  

"There's a knock on the door. "Yes, come in."

"Sylvia is ready for Mr. Styles."

"Thank you, Alycia. I'll walk him to her office."

Y/N stands, and Harry follows close behind as they make their way out to reunite him with his daughter.

"Y/N, can I hug you?"

She bits back the smile threatening to overtake her face at how small he looks asking. "Yes, that's fine."

Harry doesn't wait for another second; he throws his arms around her holding her tight. He hadn't been lucky enough to hug her before, but now doing it, he doesn't think he ever wants to go a day without one.

They walk out, both having heated faces due to enjoying being the embrace of one another. She walks them a few doors down and knocks, waiting for the go-ahead to go in.

"One last thing," She says, pointing a hand to his chest."

"Name it." He'd give her anything.

"Jo comes back to the team. You bring her to the game this weekend."

"Yes, of course."

She beams at his response, "Great."

Y/N peeks her head in, locking eyes with Sylvia. "Alright, to come in, Doc?"

"Of course, Josephine, this is my good friend and coworker Y/N."

Josie turns and smiles wide, jumping up when she sees her walk in with Harry right behind her.

"Hiya, champ. Seems to have found your dad lost out here."

Josie giggles and runs into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"I've missed you."

"As have I little miss sunshine. I missed my fastest midfielder at the game. All the girls missed you."

"Awe, I'll be back," she looks up at Harry with a look of worry on her face. "Right, daddy?"

"Yes, darling. Got a game at ten am on Saturday."

Josie lets out a loud shriek.

"So this is Coach." Dr. Hernandez says with a knowing smile.

"Yes, she's great," Josie responds, holding tight to Y/N's hand.  

Y/N chuckles. "How about you and I go draw a picture to add to my office while Dr. Hernandez and your dad tie up some little things."

"Okay."

They walk out hand in hand as Josie catches up with Y/N on everything she did on her week away. Not shying away from how she handled the now resolved issue with her father.

"You don't look as blue," Dr. Hernandez comments."

"Sorry," Harry blushes, having been lost in thought on the two girls who just walked out.

"Mr. Styles, your aura is soft, kinder."

"Yeah, I think she has that effect on people."

"You might be right."

Things are finally looking up, and Harry looks forward to rebuilding his relationship with Josie and hopefully creating one with Y/N besides their parent and coach relationship.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's been two weeks since Josie came back to play, and thing's have been going smoothly. Harry begins helping out with cleaning up at the end of practice to talk to Y/N more. He asks more about her job and how the doctorate is going. He worries she might be juggling too much, but she assures him she has a smooth dynamic of handling everything.

It's a cold Saturday morning, it's the quarter-finals, and the nerves are high for everyone. The girls finished on top of the leaderboard, but the league likes doing a championship game to honor all the hard-working teams.

Y/N is quieter this morning, and all the parents have picked up on it. They are used to her light and kind nature, wishing everyone a good day and accepting treats. Cynthia's mom is in charge of snacks for today and offered her a muffin one she never says no to except today.

It immediately puts everyone in a skittish mood.

Truthfully, Y/N isn't here for the parents, but the girls and the team they are against is the dirtiest. Most girls are nine and will be moving up a division, but Coach Roman teaches them that dirty plays will make them win. Her girls are strong players, but she reminds them of the importance of sportsmanship and playing with heart.

Y/N even makes sure she cannot be approached by anyone, only the girls and Kate, as they start to warm up on the field. The girls do their drills as Kate stands quietly by your side.

"Someone can't take their eye off of you."

"Stop."

"It's true though, he was pouting when he saw you on the field clipboard in hand," Kate says with a giggle.

"Shush."

"Going to ask him on a date?"

"Only if we win."

That shuts Kate up, "You're joking."

Y/N slowly shakes her no, "Girls, two lines, run through side net shots."

Kate and Y/n stand back to back as the girls pass, and they kick it-bag, giving them only a second to angle themselves. This is one of their favorite warm-ups, and she's glad she can still talk with Kate during it.

"What made you finally decide?"

"I realized he's not going to make a move because one he fears I'm going to reject him and two it goes horribly wrong, then he might never show his face around here again. I'm positive he likes me."

Kate nods, "he likes you, adores you. He's got it bad." She's quiet for a moment before starting up again, "I know we're going to win, so how are you going to ask him? I'm going to need all the details."

"I'm going to go up to him and ask him out to dinner, simple as that."

Y/N changes the drill marking the end of their conversation; she leads the girl into two groups of keep away while Kate takes Dawson, their goalie, to keep warming up.

Before they know it, captains and coaches are called. Coach Roman is smug and annoying as he shakes her hand. The girls pick heads and win the coin toss. They choose to have kickoff; Roman's girls decide to stay on their side, meaning everything to their advantage as they have the slight uphill to battle through for the first half, and the second will use it to their advantage.

The starting lineup is quick to attack, and in a matter of minutes, Juliet scored a goal from a pass from Imelda. The girls' cheer, happy to be leading the game. They know better than getting cocky; if anything, this intensifies their speed at playing. The next twelve minutes of the second quarter are stressful as Josie makes it a two-zero lead from a corner kick. Just as half-time is to be called, a midfield slips through the defense from the back and gets it over Dawson's head, and just like that, the referee calls it.

Y/N can't remember the last time she was this anxious. It's foul after foul, and she's had enough of it.

Kate is quick to round up the girl, not wanting to monopolize all their time, wanting them to relax mostly to stay in a positive mindset. Kate leads the talk letting them know they are doing well and that the left-wing is getting beat, but having the downhill in favor should help her out now. Y/N went around making sure each girl was safe and had no injuries, only grass stains on their knees.

"Be aggressive, but don't stoop to their level."

"Yes, coach" is heard in unison as a response.

Each girl goes to their bags and starts to stretch, knowing they can't approach their parents because it's easy for them to influence them on how they are playing. Everyone respects it, but there are a few times a parent comes by.

She decides to take a walk, getting away from the girls. She just wants to relax and not be as tense for the end of the half.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears someone call her name.

"Fuck, Harry. You scared me."

He raises his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I was just checking if you are okay?"

Y/N doesn't hesitate to rush into his arms, tucking her head into his neck. Harry, without hesitation, wraps his arms around her. He runs his hand down her back softly, hoping she finds it comforting.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." She holds him tighter, so he goes on. "You're okay, yeah, doing a good job. Girls are playing well. Taking care of each other, just like you taught them."

She slowly nods her head, she's calmed down, and Y/n thinks it might have to do with his soothing heartbeat.

"Deep breaths, love, Come on with me."

Harry breathes in and out until she does it with him. He feels her relax and tries to pull her back, but her grip is tight.

"It's okay, not going anywhere."

"Sorry," she whispers.

"No need to apologize, love."

"I just don't like when coaches teach their girls to play dirty; I hate injuries. They're just kids." She whispers, looking up at him now.

"They'll be okay."

"You don't know that. We have two quarters left."

Harry knows he won't be able to comfort her like he wants when he hears the ref blow the whistle. "Look, the girls are about to start, and they need a coach."

She nods, knowing she has to go back to her coaching mentality. The girls are her main priority; she can do this.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I'm here for you, whenever you need."

Y/N jogs over, nudging Kate playfully, who is shooting her suggestive eyes. They let the captain lead the huddle and listen intently before wishing them luck. The parents clap as the team cheer echoes out.

Only twenty-four minutes left, they can do this. She knows they can. The referees assured them he'd get a better eye on them, not wanting anyone to be carried off injured. Y/N refuses to take her eyes off of her girls. Constantly reminding them to keep communicating with each other when she hears them go quiet.

The last two quarters pass much quicker than the first; the girls play with more fleeting touches, not allowing the other team to put pressure on them.

Just when number eleven is close to getting the ball, Leslie switches the ball over to the other side; Y/N is shocked at how well Josie brings it down, she constantly struggles with this at practice, but she knows that Josie has been putting in the extra work.

She can hear Harry clapping and cheering on Josie; Y/N shouts her praise, letting her know she's doing well. Andie gets a breakaway, and it's a one-be-one versus the goalie. She fakes right as it goes left, touching it in softly, and in it goes. Y/N can't stop cheering, feeling the buzz all over her body. She's incredibly proud of the hard work they have all put in. Just as they reset and the ball is passed back, the whistle is blown and signifies they have won.

Golden Sparks are moving on to the semi-finals.

The girls are quick to jog in and tackle Y/N and Kate in a massive group hug. Y/N is going to be basking in this happiness for the entire weekend.

Y/N sends all the girls to their parents, letting them know she was okay doing the clean-up on her own. Kate stuck around, as did Juliet, because she wanted to have breakfast with Y/N telling her parents they were not welcome to come even though the invitation was extended to them. Clara and Xavier did not take any offense, happy to go back home and nap the morning away if their young toddler would let them.

Y/N approaches Harry after she gets everything settled in her trunk. He smiles at her, walking over helping her close her trunk as they wave by to Kate together. Josie and Juliet hang out in Harry's car, going through his Spotify playlist as they skip song after song, not being a fan of his taste.

Y/N lets out a deep breath, "I've been working up the courage to do this."

"Do what lovely? Harry asks curiously.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Y/N feels her stomach tense up as she waits for a response; by his wide eyes, she can tell he wasn't expecting her to say that, but he plays it off well.

"Asking me on a date?"

"I am."

Harry agrees, "I'd like that."

"Does Friday work for you?"

"Yes, great."

"I'll uh, pick you up."

"Proper wine and dine, love." She chuckles because, yeah, she wants to swoop Harry off his feet just like he did to her without even trying.

Y/N gives him a hug holding him tight for a few seconds, smiling up at Harry feeling giddy that they had a date planned after two months of flirting that they weren't sure would go anywhere.

"Juliet, we got to go."

"Okay, auntie." Juliet slams the door just a tad bit too hard, making Y/N mutter an apology.

"Bye, Harry."

"Bye, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Friday had arrived quicker than Harry expected. He got to see Y/N during the week because of the practices, and he was texting her every chance he got. He wanted to let her know he liked her and he was serious about pursuing her. It's been a long time since his last relationship, but call him cliche with Y/N; it all feels right. That everything is falling into place like it should.

Now here he sat on his couch waiting for Y/N to arrive; he had changed his outfit three times because she told him casually, and he couldn't settle on a look. It wasn't until he put on a plain black tee that hugged her arms just right and white linen cropped pleated trousers that he felt ready. He even broke out his new white Vans for the evening.

Harry was about to check the time when there was a knock on his door. He couldn't tame the butterflies in his stomach if he tried. As he opened the door, Harry let out a laugh because there stood the most beautiful woman holding up a bouquet of red lilies. He's falling in love, and there's no stopping him; he just hopes she's there to catch him.

"Hi Harry, these are for you."

Harry laughs, not knowing how to react to receiving flowers, "I'm speechless." He accepts them and gently cradles them in his arms. "I'll put them in water, and we can go."

"Sure, no rush." Y/N admires his living room, never having stepped foot in his house until today, and it's small but cozy. There are photos of all his family framed on the wall to her right. He has a small bookshelf that holds more vinyl than books.

Harry comes back and sees her staring at a photo of Josie on her first birthday covered in cake from head to toe. "I'd give you a tour, but I'm actually really excited to start our date."

"I'm sure they'll be another time."

She walks down his driveway to her parked car allowing Harry to have a moment to look her over. She's dressed casually; she has high-waisted jeans that show off all her beautiful assets. Her lavender cardigan looks warm; she left it open to expose a white plain top. It is genuinely a casual look, but she makes it look over the top.

"You look beautiful," Harry tells her as she stands by her car door.

Y/N does a small twirl before jokingly curtsying for him. "Glad you think so. Those trousers are doing your thighs justice if I do say so myself."

Harry giggles loving how easy she compliments him.

"Right, I wanted to take you mini golfing but considering it's a Friday and summer, it's going to be packed with teenagers."

"Oh, you definitely saved us."

"Yeah, I thought we could take Josie during the middle of the week as a date. I bet she'd enjoy it. Although, I never keep track of points because I'm too competitive."

The date has barely started, and she's left him speechless twice.

"You want Josie to join us on dates." Harry states.

She looks over at him quickly as they are stopped at a red light, "Of course, Harry. She's your daughter; I don't expect you to find a sitter every time we want to go out together. Isn't it like if you're dating me, you're dating my daughter."

He chuckles, "but not on our first date."

"Honestly, I think we were long overdue for a date."

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you out all summer long," He confesses.

Y/N gasps in shock as she signals a right turn, briefly checking her blind spot before making the turn. "Yet, it only happened with a few weeks left in summer."

"Yeah, but we got here, didn't we?"

Y/N leans over and places her hand on his thigh, squeezing him twice, "Yes, we did."

Harry sees her turn into a diner that looks a bit run down; he doesn't dare question her because she seems so excited as she gets out of the car and waits for him by the trunk. Y/N extends her hand for him to take, and he does without a hint of hesitation.

Y/n leads the way, but he hurries to open the door for her. She thanks him with a squeeze of the hand. Walking in, he was startled at how Harry felt he was transported to a seventies diner. The booths were red and looked sparklingly new. To the left was a jukebox that he was desperate to have a look at, maybe dedicate a song to Y/N. The floor's black and white pattern shined at him as the waiter wore a nice button-up with a black bow tie, a red and white striped apron thrown over, his name tag said James.

"After you," Y/N said, wanting Harry to pick a booth side; he knew better than to fight her and slid in on the left side. Harry is surprised when Y/N slides in right next to him. "This alright, Harry?"

Harry grins at her, dimples on display just for her. "Yeah, just caught me by surprise."

She opens up the menu sliding the other one away so they could share. Y/N points to some of her favorite items on the menu and cringing at ones she disliked.

"You know the menu well." Harry states before deciding on the turkey burger she had raved about.

Y/N chuckles, closing the menu. "My grandparents brought Clara and me here every other weekend, never letting us eat out. My grandmother was against the food industry, and she knew the owner here prided themselves on giving back to the community. Always holding fundraisers or donating to local teams."

"Fast food industry isn't the best, but I thank them because I can get Thai food delivered to my house."

Y/N doesn't have time to respond, as their waiter comes back with two glasses of water. "I'll have the turkey burger, no onions, and fries instead of the salad."

Harry didn't know she didn't like onions but made a mental note on it, "I'll also have the turkey burger and the side salad. Oh, and the couple milkshake, we agreed on strawberry, right?"

Y/N nods her head, "I had forgotten about that, but yeah, two straws, please."

"I'll have that out shortly," James tells them, walking away.

"The shake is too hard to die for; it has whipped cream on the top and bottom. It's freshly made, nothing like the canned kind. It's large! Made to be shared, thank goodness you remembered."

Harry shrugs, "That's what I'm here for."

Harry loves how easy conversation flows with Y/N. He doesn't have to force himself to say try to think of a topic or question to ask her. She's very open in sharing herself with him, he's never had someone drop down all his walls this quick, yet again, he might have dropped back ages ago.

Y/N talks to him about his grandparents and how adoring they were. That they supported all of her dreams, even the ones that we're crazy, like wanting to become a witch because she wanted to make flowers grow from her palm. Harry shared how the first year of Josie being born, he felt like he never slept, always nervous something would happen. He also tells her how living in Georgia is something he didn't enjoy, but he also didn't want to bounce Josie around from school to school. It was only date one, but Harry was excited for what the future had in store for them.

When James came back to drop off their burgers and shake. Y/N didn't even hear him too busy laughing at a dumb joke Harry had told her; he can't even remember the joke he made because her laugh is music to his ears.

Y/N waits for Harry to take his first bite, and he decides to tease her just a bit. He slowly raises the burgers stopping an inch from his lips; Y/N sits there, chin perched on her hand as if she has all the time in the world to wait for him.

"I'm in no rush, casanova." She smirks, not falling for his game.

Harry knows eating burgers is nothing sexual, so he decides to go all in. He moans at the first taste he gets, it's juicy, and the pepper jack cheese is perfectly melted, adding an excellent combination.

"Love, that is an amazing burger."

"I know." She's already gotten a bite in. She eyes his salad plate for a moment before looking back over to her fries.

"You want some, sweetheart?"

Y/N giggles at his comment, "God no. I eat healthy enough already, thanks to Juliet, but can I have some of your ranch?"

Harry understands eating healthy, he does it for Josie, and since Y/N is constantly around Juliet, it makes sense she would change her eating habits but does know as an aunt she's easier to give in to desserts. Not that he minds; he needs more sweetness in his life.

"Sure, you eat it with your fries. That's interesting."

She shrugs, "I don't think it is. Everyone in my family eats fries with ranch, including Josie."

"If Josie starts eating fries like that, I will know who to blame."

Y/N bumps her shoulder with Harry, "Haha."

They eat most of their meal in silence. Occasionally, Harry steals a few fries causing Y/N to chuckle before turning her plate, so Harry didn't have to reach over her. She doesn't chastise him about not ordering fries if he wanted some. Harry likes how much he enjoys spending time with Y/N.

"What's one thing you hope to accomplish within the next five years?" Harry asks as Y/N passes the shake back to him and takes a generous drink. They had finished eating, and now we're trying to finish the shake that Harry thought was smaller than what had arrived at their table.

"My usual answer is a doctor, but what's happening next year, so, give me a moment," Harry waits for her, watching as she plays with the rings on his right hand. They went front sitting thigh to thigh to Y/N, hooking her leg to Harry's, causing her to lean more on him. Harry liked it, and if he wasn't somewhere public or their first date, he would have pulled her into his lap. He took a chance and set his hand on top of her thigh; to his surprise, she placed her hand on top of his, intertwining their fingers together.

Every little thing she did made him fall deeper and deeper.

"I want to run a marathon."

"A marathon? I didn't know you were a runner."

"Oh yeah, last December I ran a half marathon, and it was hell, but once the runner high hits, it's the most wonderful thing."

"Why not do it now?"

Y/N frowns, taking off the rose ring from his finger and slipping it on one of hers. "The training is rigorous. You have to work up the miles constantly and eat better. I would rather enjoy the upcoming year."

"Well, when it happens, I can't wait to be there cheering you on." He tells her with a hopeful look.

"I'll hold you to that, Styles."

Harry smiles, hoping she does, hoping he gets to spend many more years to come with her in his life.

Y/N excuses herself to the restroom, and Harry decides it's a good time to pick a song. He approached it grateful to half a quarter hanging in his pocket. The jukebox looked old but well kept. Harry saw over 100 songs but searched for a specific one in mind; he was thrilled to see it was on there. Just as it started to play, he saw Y/N walking back towards him, so he hurried over to slide into their seat.

"You know, you're kind of clumsy."

"Am not," he denies.

"Oh, sorry, so it wasn't you who bumped into the table as you made your way to sit down."

Harry decides not to respond, knowing she saw him embarrass himself, and instead starts singing along to the song. The smile on her face widens as she hears how good he is.

"I'm not surprised you picked Fleetwood Mac, "songbird" is a sweet song."

"Am I that predictable?"

She nods, "Jo always sings one of their songs; at the sleepover, she said that's what you played most, so I taught her my favorites."

"Is it you I have to thank for the ABBA and Selena obsession?" He playfully glares.

"Guilty. She needed to brighten her horizon."

"Josie doesn't even know Spanish."

"Ah, but she will now."

"You're weird." Y/N shrugs in acceptance, knowing he meant it as a compliment.

As Harry's song comes to an end, she jumps up and rushes over to pick her song. She doesn't shy away about dancing her way back over to him. She mouths along to "The Name of the Game," moving her body to the beat.

"The name of the game?"

"You know it, darling."

Harry feels the heat in his cheek and hopes Y/N won't bring it up. She gets him flustered in just a few words.

"You know this is about falling in love with your therapist," he states

"Harry!" She exclaims. "No, the song is open to interpretation."

"What do you think?"

"I think it's about the early days of your relationship and wondering if it'll be something more or not. Also, that bridge, I mean come on."

Harry loves how passionate she is about the song. He loves that she's not afraid to share her thoughts with him, and he realizes he's doing the same. He can't help himself and leans in to press a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm over her shoulder to pull her close as they sit there listening to the song to the end.

"Ready to go, angel?" He feels her mutter a small okay, as she gets up, offering her hand to him as he's at the edge. "Let's go take care of the bill."

Y/N chuckles, "Already did, Harry."

Harry pulls her back, turning her to face him, "When?"

"The restroom, oldest trick in the book."

"Sneaky, sneaky."

Y/N, let's Harry lead the way out this time; they say goodnight to the staff and hurry over to the car. He didn't bring a coat, and he still wasn't used to how cold California got at night. He thought summer meant warm nights with a gentle breeze, not chilly air. Y/N seemed to not mind it, not hurrying after Harry as he jumped into the passenger seat.

"Afraid of the cold, H."

"Yes, why is it so bad?"

"Didn't you get snow in December up in the peach state? Also, aren't you from where the sun never shines?" Y/N teases him as she settles in her seat, turning on the heater for Harry.

"We visit occasionally; I can handle the weather with the appropriate clothing." He pouts at her, rubbing his arms.

Y/N turns around, reaching for something in the backseat before settling in again and settling it in Harry's lap. She doesn't say anything besides dazzling him with a smile and pulling out of the parking lot.

Harry slips it on over his head and finds it fits him loose, "I hope you know you might not be getting this back."

Y/N turns to look at him as he drags the collar up to his cheek to feel the softness it still holds, "That's my coach sweater. Kate got me a few, all in different sizes; I wear this one because I like baggy hoodies."

Harry smiles at her, he knows everything they have done has been in reverse, but he loves how confident she is. He knows she's been hurt before in the past from what she's shared but not once has he felt her trying to hide or push him away. He wants to tell her everything he's kept locked inside, he's never felt like this before, and he hopes the feeling never goes away.

"You know, if people see you wearing the sweater, they'll start talking."

Harry turns in his seat, facing her as the street lights shine on her face. "Let them. I've got no shame in people thinking you're my girlfriend. If I'm lucky enough, it might come true."

Y/N shakes her head, thankful for the darkness because he won't be able to see how her face heated up. The drive to his house was short, he wished for the night to never end, but even he knows he's not that lucky. Harry lets her know it's okay to pull into his driveway as he had his car parked on the curb right.

"I'll walk you to your door." Harry holds her hand the short way to where they will soon have to say goodnight.

Harry doesn't try getting his keys out; instead, he turns her to look at him, wanting to remember her in this moment forever. His last first date. Call him crazy, but there was no one else for him. It was always Y/N; he just had to find her.

"I had the best night with you," Harry whispers, pulling her close by her waist. She rests her hands on his shoulders and nods. "We're doing this again, Y/N."

"I got a second date." She cheers.

Harry leans his forehead against hers, smirking as he hears her breath hitch. "You get a second, a third, a fifth, a one hundred. You name it, you got it."

He's so close to closing the gap between them, feeling their breaths mix together.

"That means you'd be stuck with me for a long time."

"I want to say forever, but that might be too soon."

"Our secret." She whispers, her eyes dancing from his lips to his eyes. "Please kiss me, H."

Harry knows he won't ever be able to deny anything she wishes in life, mainly because he was close to losing her once before.

His lips moved slowly, savoring the feel of her against him as he pulled her close, letting himself rest against the door. He felt the butterflies in his stomach going crazy as she moved her hands to his hair, tugging on the small curls. Harry pulled back in fear of letting out a moan at the intense pleasure she made him feel.

Y/N pulls back breathless but presses her lips to his cheek, not wanting him to touch to go far. "Will you give me another, darlin'," Y/N nods a starry look in her eye as she lets Harry swoop in and take control of the kiss. This second kiss is faster and more passionate. Harry was holding back before, but now he wants her to feel everything he makes her feel. Harry wants her to know he gives her goosebumps and fireworks.

"I could kiss you all night." Harry trails kisses on her cheeks, loving how lost in his touch she is.

"Too bad, I need to rest. I've got to coach a game tomorrow."

That statement is enough to bring Harry back to reality, where he has to wake up extra earlier to pick up his daughter then drive her to the game. They have to say goodnight, even though neither one of them wants to.

Harry pulls away, dropping his hands from her waist; Y/N follows by letting her hands slide down from his hair.

"See you tomorrow?" He winks at Y/N as she walks backward, creating distance between them.

"Of course, we got a semi-final to win."

Y/N walks to her car, touches her lips feeling the lingering heat on when he kisses her breathless. She is turning on her car, making sure her headlights are on, when she sees Harry rushing down the steps toward her, the smile on his face contagious.

"What is it?" She asks as she rolls down her window, knowing she wouldn't leave soon if she got out.

"A kiss for the road."

Y/N couldn't dare deny him a kiss, especially when she was craving more already.

Harry slipped a hand the back of her neck, fearing she'd pull back sooner than he wanted. Her lips tasted like cherry; he figures she put on chapstick. This was only their third kiss, but it had only gotten better. Harry swiped his tongue against her bottom lip, begging for entrance, but she pulled back, letting out a breathless laugh at the pout he made, no longer able to feel her against him. She leans and pecks at the corner of his mouth, whispering a goodnight as he steps back, letting her drive away.

It may be too soon, but he might just love her.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

The semi-final had to be one of the most intense games she had seen the young girls play. It was goal after goal from each team, neither one backing down on the pressure.

In the second half, she told them she was proud that if they kept playing how they were, this game was theirs. Going in a 3-2 lead, the girls stood shocked when, in a corner kick, the other team had been able to get it into the back of the net and over Dawson.

Kate thought this might knock them down, but it sparked something in all of them. All the parents stood up from their seats when they saw them dance around the opposing team switching the ball side to side. Honestly, it was something far advanced than they've ever presented.

Y/N was in awe; their communication was at a new level. There wasn't much time left, and Kate feared penalty kicks even if they were prepared for it.

Lani had control of the middle field; she just needed to get it past their defense. Juliet had defenders marking her tight, no way able to make a run towards the goal. If they played it right, Juliet would draw them out, leaving a gap allowing them to make a run for it. That's all they needed for a foot race.

Kate was sitting on the bench holding tightly onto Sarah Beth's hand, not able to take the pressure; then again, no one could take it. It all happened so fast; one moment, Juliet ran towards the midfield, two defenses following close behind when she got a touch on the ball, letting her send it back where it came from, then straight down the line. Jo and Franny ran down both sides too far ahead to be stopped; Jo was able to get a touch on it, crossing it straight to Franny, who shot at goal but was stopped by the opposing goalie. Jo was there for the rebound striking it in.

Goal!

She did it. She made the final goal.

Jo was quick to be bombarded by the rest of her teammates hugging her as they ushered back for the kick-off. Y/N wished she could run in there and hug her, telling her how proud she was, but for now, shouting 'great job' and 'stay focused' would be enough. Y/N looked over at Harry, who was wiping his tears still yelling proudly for his daughter, and like he knew she was staring, he looked over at her giving her the cheesiest grin she had ever seen on him.

The game finished, and the Golden Sparks won another game, taking them to the final the following week. Y/N congratulated the girls telling how proud she was of them and the hard work they put in each game. She told them she can't wait to see them on Monday and to have a wonderful weekend. Then told their parents to spoil them a little extra this weekend that earned a cheer from all the girls.

As Y/N was packing up her things, Kate and a few other parents already helped carry everything over to Kate's car. She felt arms around her waist.

"Hey, quickster," Y/N says, turning, allowing her niece to hug her properly.

"The girls are going to get ice cream if you want to go with them; Emilia's mom will text you the address," Juliet asks, but Y/N has spent enough time with them and wants to let them be.

"Thanks for the offer, but you have a good time. I'll let your mom know Emilia's mom is dropping you off." Juliet nods, giving her one more hug before hurrying over to Emilia's car, where Jo also happens to get in. She sends them away; she notices Harry a few vehicles over putting a bag away when she reaches her car.

Something comes over her because the next thing she knows, she's calling his name and standing next to him.

"Hiya, love. Doing alright?"

Y/N tucks her hair behind her ear and nods, "Yes, all good. That was an exciting game."

"Good to hear."

"You doing anything now?" She asks, peeking over her shoulder, seeing Kate has her eye on her, but she just rolls her eyes before looking back at Harry.

"Going home, my munchkin left me."

"Well, there's a great Mexican restaurant here if you'd like to join me for lunch."

Harry smirks, "Asking me on another date, are you?"

"I have to when I know you're still a bit nervous about making a move," she confesses bashfully.

Harry's not surprised she can so easily read him; all the walls he had left are gone.

"Then I'd be honored."

"Great, uh good. Just follow me then."

Arriving, they were seated quickly. A plate of chips and salsa were delivered shortly, Harry asked for guacamole. Y/N didn't argue, knowing for many people that was one of their favorite dips. Personally, she wasn't a fan. She didn't like the texture. Most people were shocked at the revelation, and no doubt Harry would as well.

"What's good here, love?" Harry says, leaning into her side to peek at her menu instead of opening his.

"Hmmm...honestly everything. I always get something different when I come, but you can never go wrong with tacos."

"Alright, you want to share?"

Y/N shrugs, "We can. I'm not picky, but I am starving."

"Have some guacamole; you haven't gotten any."

"No thanks, I'm not a fan."

"You serious?"

"Yes, Harry."

"That's strange."

"What is?" She sets the menu down to look over at him.

"I mean, it's fine. At least you'll never buy avocado toast for like six dollars." He chuckles, and Y/N can't help but join in.

Their waiter comes over, "Estan listos para ordenar?"

Y/N nods, "Hola, si. Dos tacos de asada, y dos de al pastor. Por favor."

Harry is staring intently at his menu, not speaking a word as they wait for his order. "You alright, darling?"

He leans close to whisper in her ear, not able to focus on the term of endearment, "Can you order for me?"

She doesn't tease him, just smiles, "Y una orden de enchiladas rojas."

Their waiter smiles and walks away, promising to be back shortly.

"Have we discussed you speaking a second language?"

"I thought we had." She brushes it off like it's no big deal.

"I don't think so."

"Okay, I took YMCA classes from age seven and did so all the way until college. Even have a minor in Spanish."

"Impressive."

"Sorry if you felt uncomfortable. They speak English as well but primarily speak Spanish."

Harry shakes his head, not wanting her to feel bad, "No, I was just caught by surprise. Hearing you speak Spanish was a turn-on."

"I'll keep that in mind." She winks at him, glad to see the blush spread on his cheeks.

Lunch went great, just as she had expected. They shared food, Y/N enjoying Harry's enchiladas much more than the tacos. Harry happily ate the three tacos she left after eating most of his plate, not that he minded. Y/N appreciated how open he was in sharing food. She had always done it growing up, so Harry allowing her to do the same made her find more profound comfort in their already growing relationship.

Harry beat her to the bill, and she let him take it not without letting him know she'd get it the next time. They stood outside together, allowing the nice breeze to brush over then neither one was eager to say goodbye. They knew they would see each other soon, but with the growing affection, they just craved more time together, more time getting to know each other.

Harry had her pressed against her car door, hidden from the view of others. "We should do this again."

"We should," she agrees.

"My house Thursday night, Josie is going out with Sarah and Mitch to watch a movie, most likely do a sleepover as well."

"I'd like that. We'll see if you can maybe have a sleepover yourself."

Harry smirks, liking the idea of her spending the night with him, not caring that they both had work the following day.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

"I want to."

"You have my full permission," she teases.

Y/N met him halfway and pressed, letting him press his lips against hers. As she kissed him back, she wanted him to feel how much she liked him, how fast she was falling for him. His hands wrapped around her waist tight; it gave her comfort. She knew he wouldn't let go until she asked.

She felt her beat just a little fast as she left out a soft moan; she shifted closer as his mouth opened over hers and his tongue slid between her lips.

He was in control of her. She did not mind one bit.

With a sigh, she tilted her so he could kiss her more deeply; he didn't need any encouragement to do as she wished. His kiss became more intense, she could feel the burn between her thighs, wanting more, needing more, and that's when she knew she had to pull back, but he beat her to it.

Harry pulls back, staying close enough that he could steal another kiss, "God, I can't get enough of you."

He surprised her, how open he became with her feelings, she hadn't asked how his therapy was going, but god, it must have been doing wonders if she could feel every emotion that was going through him as she gazed into his loving emerald eyes.

"I'll see you soon, darling." Harry took that as his cue to let his hold of her go.

"Not soon enough," he whispers.

"You'll see me Monday," she reminds him.

"Can I steal a kiss then?"

"If you're lucky."

Y/N knew it wouldn't be long until she could say she was in love with Harry.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Harry never thought he'd be the type of guy to be excited over a simple call or text reading: 'I'm thinking of you." She's made him feel good and confident in their relationship. He sent flowers to her work that led to her sending him a selfie with her face buried in the flowers.

At practice, he knew she couldn't pay attention to him, but that didn't mean he couldn't. He saw how fast she moved with the ball showing the girls a new drill, then doing it again slowed down, making sure they all understood. He admired how she never got frustrated. He knew how hard it was to handle one eight-year-old, but sixteen was impressive. He'd sit there for hours just admiring her if he could.

On Tuesday, he called Alycia, the receptionist at Y/N's office, asking for her lunch schedule, wanting to drop by and leave her lunch. She let him know she was taking it later that day at 2 since she was so busy. He decided that a BLT sandwich from two blocks away would do as she had once expressed to him how well done they were, promising to take him one day.

He walked in, noting how few people were in the waiting room, but eagerly stepped up to the counter. Alycia greeted him kindly, now seeing him more than once when he took Josie to her first session. Josie showed improvement, and each time he brought her, he made sure to leave a note behind for Y/N.

As he told Alycia to give you the food, there Y/N came walking down the hall. He was surprised at how casual, yet professional her look was; she had a silky oversized button shirt tucked into her linen pants, wearing her brown loafers he knew she didn't use often.

"Alycia, can you update this- Harry!" Y/N looks shocked to see him standing in front of her, not at all expecting to see him; she just planned on calling him later at night like they had been doing the past few days.

"Hi, love. Brought you lunch." He smiled sheepishly, holding up the bag.

She laughs, handing over the file to Alycia then stepping towards Harry to wrap him in a hug she has been wanting to do since she laid eyes on him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tight against him, taking in her sweet honey scent. Before pulling back, remembering, after all, she was at work.

"I'm starving, thank you, darling. I was about to head out." Y/N rubs her stomach jokingly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. See you tomorrow."

Y/N pouts, "You're not staying?"

"Well, I didn't want to assume."

"Assume, please." She laughs at the smile she gets Harry to give her.

They excuse themselves from Alycia and walk towards her office. They take a seat on her couch as Harry hands her the sandwich. They ate together, and for the forty-five minutes they had together, it was perfect; they shared stories of how their week was going at how Josie was anxious for the game and just promising to see each other soon. Harry got a kiss goodbye and was glad he would be seeing her the following day.

It's Thursday night, and Harry will finally get her for more than half an hour. Josie left a few hours ago to watch the movie with Sarah and Mitch, her sleepover bag on her shoulder not at all a surprise for Harry. He glanced around his house and knew it wasn't the cleanest. Josie always had some stuff scattered around the house, but he knew it just gave the house character.

"Hey, I'm outside," Y/N tells him on the phone before hanging up.

He rushes to the door, swinging it open to see her shut the door with her hip before making her way to him, a grin on her face as she carries a pink box in one hand and what he assumes to be food in another.

"You said you don't always like having to cook, and I know you said you love Thai." She giggles as he reaches to take the bag out of her hand, letting the smell take over.

"This is sweet, love. I appreciate it."

"Well, of course," she shrugs off his compliment. "I wanted to do something nice."

"I feel like I should be the one doing sweet things for you," he confesses as he guides her to his kitchen.

Y/N frowns, "Darling, we can move past that."

"Can we?"

"Of course, I feel like we've grown in the last few weeks. There's a different type of trust, don't you think?" She turns to face him, knowing the conversation was serious.

"Do you know how sorry I am?"

She nods, slowly stepping towards him, stopping right in front of him. She lifts her hand under his chin to have him look at her. "I do, and I forgive you. Sometimes we let our emotions win."

"I hope you know I'd never do that again." His voice is soft.

"I know."

She leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

"Dinner?" She beams.

"Yes, of course."

The meal is good, probably one of the best foods he's had in a long time. She didn't pick this up from his usual place but wouldn't tell him where she went. Told him she needed to keep some things to herself to keep surprising him. Harry finished most of the meal and then opened the pink box she left on the table that held a mixture of donut holes.

"You've still got room," she exclaims.

"They smell so good." He defends. Y/N laughs but rejects the offer to have one.

After cleaning up, he leads them to the living room, deciding to watch a movie. The scroll endlessly for a few minutes before settling on Life As We Know It. Harry shared that it was one he enjoyed watching back, and she agreed.

They had only gotten thirty minutes in before they began chatting. Y/N went on about how she was planning a trip to take two up north wanting to visit June Lake and hike some trails. Y/N's sister was going to see Xavier's family in San Diego, so they couldn't go up with her. Harry, without thinking, said if she'd have them, they could go. She didn't respond, making him assume she didn't want them to join, but she surprised him by hugging him.

"Best idea you've had tonight. I'll make all the reservations. Just let me know when you're free." She told him before settling back down next to him, her hand on his thigh going back to the movie. She was grinning at the montage of Holly and Eric and how they were learning how to co-parent Sophie. Harry had not taken his eyes off of her; she laughed as Sophie pooped in Eric's old hat.

"You're staring." She narrows her eyes at him, suspicious.

"It's because you're beautiful."

"Thank you," she answers timidly. "Very sweet of you."

"Of course, I'm going to spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are if you let me."

"God, you're smooth."

Harry smirks, "Smooth enough for a kiss."

She didn't answer him; she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him forward so that he could meet her halfway, and pressed her lips against his. Harry was quick to take control, slipping his hands around her waist and placing her on his lap, "this okay," he asked, quickly pulling back making sure she said yes. Once he had a go-ahead, he went back to her lips; she shifted closer, now touching chest to chest, not a single space in between as his tongue slipped into her mouth, prideful of the moan she released against his mouth.

Harry smoothed his hands from down her waist to rest on her ass, then cupped her and held her to him as he thrust against her. He pulled back for a second fearful he went too far; Y/N frowned, slowly opening her eyes whispering "again" against his lips, and who was he to deny her.

She could feel his hesitation, slid her hands up, and cupped his jaw, "You're okay, we're okay. You're taking care of me. I want this."

Harry swallowed hard, noting she never stopped rocking herself on top of him. His mouth curved in a slight grin, pushing up to meet her, he felt her go soft in his arms, and that's when he really realized the effect he has on her.

He needed her lips on him, it had only been a few moments, but he was craving her. He laid a string of kisses up her neck until he reached her mouth, lips swollen, but he knew she was eager for more.

"Harry, please." She had a hand tangled in his curls, needing to close the distance.

"I got you, love."

He tilted her head, allowing him to kiss her deeply, the kiss only more intense than before. If he didn't need to breathe, he would kiss her forever, never stopping.

"So pretty, all those moans just for me,"

"All for you," she breathes out.

Harry smirked, moving her up and down over his pants at a steady rhythm, but she was fighting for control.

"Harry."

"It's alright, love, let yourself go. Show me how pretty you look when you come."

Y/N was so close, tensed her thighs around him about to reach her release when they heard a phone ringing, halting their movements. Harry groans, pressing one more lingering kiss to her puckered lips, before reaching over to the side table to his right for his phone, "not me."

She holds back a whine, getting up for her phone inside her jacket. "Whoever it is, don't answer," he half-jokes.

Y/N giggles and looks at the caller as she swipes right to answer, "it's my niece."

Harry watches as she nods, telling her to relax and that she'd be right over.

"Has our night been cut short?"

"It has. Juliet got in an argument with her dad and is now threatening to move out."

"What," he laughs, standing up as he watches her shrug her jacket on.

"Yeah, to the backyard or with me."

"She really made you a mediator."

Y/N laughs, shrugging.

As Harry is walking her to the car, he can't believe how the night turned or would have. "You know I thought it would have been my child who interrupted us."

"Well, your daughter is an angel next to Juliet."

"You really think so,"

"I know so."

"You make it so easy to fall for you," he confesses, wrapping her in a hug before she leaves him for the night.

"Harry."

"What, I mean it."

She leans up to kiss his cheek, "I'm sorry we didn't get to finish."

"Me too."

"I hope you know once I'm in bed tonight, I'll be thinking of you."

"That's not fair."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to be the one taking care of you, making a mess of you."

"We'll get there," she promises.

Harry leans in and kisses her; it's short and sweet.

"Night, Harry. See you Saturday."

"See you then. Goodnight, love."

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

It's bittersweet honestly, it's the final game of the season. The girls have worked very hard to get where they are now: at the championship game. After this game, win or lose, they'll have a month off. No one will call her asking for an extra jersey, asking her for a ride, or texting her what time the game was, even with them owning the schedule. They'd all get a break until mid-September.

Harry and Josie were the first to arrive, while Kate and Y/N were setting up the warm-up drill.

"Loverboy is here." Kate teases as they walk to the bench.

"Stop." Y/N looks over at them, seeing them heading this way. "Styles family, good to see you."

"Hiya, Coach."

"Hello, Jo. You're going to go get ready?" Y/N says, looking down at the girl's black crocs with Avengers pins.

"Yup," she skips away, sitting on the grass next to Kate, who's pumping air in a few balls.

"Harry, hi."

"No darling," he teases."

She narrows her eyes at him, "I'll have you sit with the other parents if you keep teasing."

Harry looks appalled; she'd suggest such a thing, "Now that hurts."

"You know I thought you'd be sweeter, especially about that wonderful night we had Thursday."

A smile tugs up Harry's face at the memories, "My apologies, didn't want to upset my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Y/n doesn't hide her surprise.

"Yeah, uh, we've gone out enough. I like you, and I'm going out on a limb here that you like me," she nods, allowing him to continue. "You're marvelous and love, Josie; god, you even gave her a nickname. I want this; I really want to hold your hand and keep going on dates with you and kiss you. I never want to stop.

She smiles, stepping into his embrace, "I'll be your girlfriend, boyfriend."

"Enough to risk a kiss?"

She doesn't reply; instead, she leans in, giving him a chaste kiss.

"Now go be a good parent and take a seat."

Harry does so. The smile on his face mirrors her own.

The game passed in a blur; the four quarters finished quickly. Y/N had thought they lost to the other team carrying a two-one win over them. The girls didn't look defeated, but each girl she subbed came out with a sigh but cheered as the minutes counted down.

Everyone hated losing, including herself.

Then out of nowhere, Priscilla, a usually shy player, gets a touch on the ball and sends it towards the goal. The goalie lets it slip under her, and what do you know they scored. The cheers seem endless; Y/N isn't bothered with the time, knowing there isn't much left in the final quarter.

This gives the girls a new motivation like a spark has been lit. It's a game of keep-away, Blue Devils not giving up easily. Abby gets the ball at her feet, and she freezes; the goalie is running right towards her, the defense kept away by the others; it's not until someone shouts, "Shoot!" that the young girl lifts her left foot shooting it through the goalies' legs and hitting the back of the next. Then just like that, the referees blow the whistle and call the game.

The Golden Sparks had won the championship. Y/N felt the tears in her eyes, thankful for the sunglasses hiding her overflowing emotions.

Y/N laughs as she feels Kate hug her and begin jumping up and down.

"We did it!!"

"They did it!"

Y/N is swept through the motions as she shakes hands with the coaches and claps the opposing team's hands. It's not until Juliet runs towards her with full force, knocking her onto the grass, wrapping her arms around her waist, that she's brought back to the moment. Then before she knows it, there are fifteen more girls joining in on the group hug. She's not sure when Kate was dragged into it, but she feels their joy.

They have a lifetime of wins and losses coming ahead in their young lives, but she's happy to be part of one that brings them so much happiness.

The young girls help her get up before hurrying over to their waiting parents. Juliet is being smothered in kisses by her parents. Josie is passed around by Harry's friends and her godparents, congratulating her on the win. Each girl showing off their small first place trophies, indeed to be displayed for all to see somewhere in their home.

Y/N has waved almost everyone off, telling them she would see them for pizza and drinks at their usual location. She took one look around the emptying field and felt she did well this season, but there was also room for her to grow as a coach.

"Looks like you're a champion, love."

Y/N turns around to find Harry smiling at her, Josie a few feet behind, waving to a couple with a baby. "Think she's the champ; she played the game. You did wonderful out there, Jo." She grins as Jo looks at her proudly.

"I still think you should be congratulated; you led these girls. Taught them and helped them grow into becoming better little humans." he shares, grabbing her hand pulling her into his chest.

"Well, thank you." Y/N looks down at Josie, who's crouched down trying to pick up what's likely to be a worm, "Ready for some pizza, Jo?"

Josie nods, not looking up too entranced on the creature in her hands now.

"Can I give you a gift, you know for uh...winning?"

"Course, I like presents." She grins at him, eager for what it could be.

His fingers curled into her nape and pulled her head into his as he kissed her softly. She felt his full lips move over hers; she felt how much he felt for her. As Harry brought their kiss to an end, he pulled back and looked into Y/N's eyes. "Was it a good gift?"

"The best," she answers before they are interrupted by a giggling Josie, who is staring up at them.

"Does this mean you're together?" Jo asks.

Y/N and Harry share a look before looking back at Josie, who's patiently waiting, "yes."

"Oh my! Dreams come true!" She shouts, running circles around them.

"Isn't meeting dad's girlfriend too soon a bad thing?" Y/N asks Harry.

"Not when you know you're never letting go."

"Oh, I like the sound of that." She lets pull her towards him, his arm resting comfortably over her shoulder.

"Plus, you're meeting all my friends at the pizza place, they all came to cheer on Josie, and you did say everyone was invited."

"I might just regret saying that."

"It'll be fine. Not a chance you don't win them all over."

Y/N brings them to a halt, Harry smiling down at her. This is happiness; she never wants to forget it. Harry leans in, letting their mouths meet in a kiss, soft and passionate as they both spill their feelings for another, hoping that with each passing second, the emotions only get stronger and stronger.

Harry pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, "I don't know what the future will bring, but I'm glad we'll be able to see it together."

Josie walks a few steps in front of them, leading the conversation. Harry and Y/N listen intently, holding each other tightly because this is what their future will consist of; more soccer games, more smiles, more laughs but most importantly, more love.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

thank you so much for reading <3333

I adore you. take care xx

[neon-junkie]

Five-oh-Thirst

Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.

Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup

Word count: 12k

Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.

Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)

To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.

Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.

Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.

Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.

A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.

Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.

One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"

"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.

That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.

"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.

"Go on."

"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.

"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.

Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.

"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.

"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."

"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.

"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"

Oh.

There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.

And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.

"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.

They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.

"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.

"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.

"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.

You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.

As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.

"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.

"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.

"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."

Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.

"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.

"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.

----------

Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.

That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.

The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!

Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.

One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.

Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.

"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.

"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.

"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"

Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.

"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.

Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.

"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.

"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.

"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.

Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"

It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.

Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.

Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.

Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.

You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.

"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.

"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.

"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.

"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.

You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"

Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.

A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.

"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.

"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.

"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"

You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."

Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.

"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.

"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.

"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"

"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.

"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.

Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.

Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.

"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.

"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.

"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.

"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.

Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.

"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.

Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.

Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.

You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.

Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.

"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.

Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.

Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.

"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.

"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.

"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?

"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.

Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.

The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.

"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.

Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.

"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"

"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.

"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."

A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?

"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.

"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?

Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.

Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"

Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.

Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.

Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"

"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.

Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.

--------

The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.

The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.

"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?

Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.

"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.

Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.

Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.

Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.

Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.

You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.

"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.

"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.

With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.

He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"

Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?

Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"

You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.

Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.

Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.

With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.

You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.

"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.

Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.

Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.

Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.

Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.

"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.

"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.

He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.

Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.

And oh kriff, you sure are busy.

An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.

Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.

You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.

You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.

Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.

Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.

"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.

Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.

"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.

At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.

"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.

"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.

Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.  

Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.

"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.

Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."

Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.

Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.

"Where?" he manages to blurt out.

"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.

Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.

Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.

Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.

A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.

Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.

"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.

"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.

"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.

"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.

"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.

"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.

"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.

You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.

Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."

Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.

You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."

"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.

Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.

You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.

This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.

Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.

"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.

You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"

Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"

"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.

Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.

"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.

Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.

Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.

When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.

"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.

Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.

Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.

He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.

Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.

"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.

"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.

Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.

Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.

At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.

Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.

"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.

"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.

They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.

However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.

Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.

Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.

The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.

"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.

Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.

"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.

"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."

"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.

Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.

"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"

"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.

You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.

You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.

Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.

"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.

"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.

"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.

You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.

It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.

Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.

The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.

With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.

You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.

"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.

When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!

As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.

"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.

"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"

Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.

Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.

"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.

You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.

"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.

Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.

"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.

"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.

Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!

A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.

"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.

"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.

"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.

You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.

"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.

"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.

Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."

Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.

------

A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.

Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.

Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.

Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"

Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.

You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.

You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.

Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.

"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.

"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.

"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.

Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.

A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.

"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.

Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."

You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.

"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.

"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.

"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.

Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.

"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.

"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.

"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.

An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!

The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich. Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.

Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.

"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.

"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.

"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.

"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.

"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.

Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.

What a dream!!!!

[mackenzielovee]

jealous - rafe cameron

a/n: hi! im kinda a mess right now and this story is a little all over the place so im sorry if you hate it lol but i really wanted to write something based on what i think Rafe would really be like as a bf so here it is! (not my pic)

Summary: Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, takes you to a party.

Warnings: swearing, drug use (cocaine), alcohol consumption, mentions of sex

Word Count: 2k

my writing

You can hear the music coming from the house before you see it. It's Friday night on Figure Eight, and you already know what that means. Accompanying your boyfriend to yet another party. You and Rafe have been together for almost a year, and some days, you really think you could rip his head off.

You hadn't even wanted to come tonight. When you voiced that to Rafe, however, he told you with a shrug of his shoulders that he'd just find someone else to dance with. Of course, it started a fight, and now, you're sitting in the back of Topper's Jeep beside Rafe, watching as he stares at his phone.

He isn't talking to you or looking at you, but apparently it's enough for him that he just knows exactly where you are and what you're doing. It's not enough for you, though. You reach over and grab his hand from his phone, looping yours through it. Rafe hesitates at first, wanting his hand back so he can continue what he had been doing. When he sees your expression, his eyes soften just a bit and he relaxes into his seat and your touch.

Topper parks the car and tells all of you to hop out, which you do with the help of Rafe. You appreciate that he doesn't let go of your hand, even though you know it's only because you all are approaching the party and he wants every single person to know that you are with him.

Rafe leans over and kisses your temple quickly, then brings his lips down to your ear.

"Stay close, yeah?" he whispers, his hand gripping yours even tighter.

You know the drill by now. Of course you're going to stay close, because Rafe never lets you get more than five feet away from him at these things. You envy the way Topper treats Sarah sometimes, even though you really think Topper's a tool and would never date him.

Once you all enter the house, Rafe moves his hand from yours to around your waist, leading you through the party and glaring at any guy that even looks over at you. You all make your way into the living room area and find seats on the couch, Rafe immediately pulling you down dangerously close to him.

"Yo, who got this shit?" Rafe points to the cocaine on the table in front of him, the rolled up dollar bill tempting him.

"Bought it from Barry this morning, bro," Kelce speaks up, grinning. Kelce is always trying to please Rafe.

"Always reading my mind, brother," Rafe smirks, and leads forward to take a line without hesitation.

When he comes back up from his line, he grins and daps up Kelce, telling him it's good shit. Then, without you even moving, he leans over and kisses you roughly. His tongue enters your mouth quickly, which you accept and grab onto his neck. He moans into your mouth and then pulls away, immediately going back to the coke.

You sigh and sit back, pulling your phone out. You know Rafe will be high as a kite when you two leave tonight, which only makes you hopeful that he won't turn into an absolute asshole once that stuff kicks in.

He turns back to you with a devious smirk on his face, and before you can even ask what he's doing, he's collecting a line up on your thigh.

"I don't want that shit on me, Rafe," you grumble, but you know better than to move. He might just kill you if you spilled that shit all over the couch and the floor.

"Relax, baby," he tells you, not looking up at you. He's too focused on perfecting his line.

His friends all watch as he snorts a line up your thigh, all of them silently wishing they could do the same. You try not to roll your eyes at him and end up catching the eye of some guy standing in the corner of the room. He's watching you both, curious why you're hanging out with a guy like that. You just shrug and roll your eyes only halfway, telling the guy you're over it.

You're not sure why you do it, you suppose it's the concerned look in his eye as he watches. Nobody ever looks at you like that anymore.

When Rafe glances back up to you and sees you looking at another guy, he instinctively wraps his arm around your waist.

"I don't like the way he's looking at you," Rafe tells you, "Come sit in my lap."

His voice is raspy and his jaw is clenched as he pulls you into his lap, kissing on your cheeks and your neck as he stares at the guy. After only a minute or so, the guy is intimidated enough that he ends up walking out of the living room completely.

"Did you know him?" Rafe asks you, his eyes trailing the boy out of the room.

"No, baby," you sigh.

He catches the frustration in your voice and looks up into your eyes, reaching up and tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. This is the Rafe you love; the intimate, soft one. The one who isn't afraid to show you how he loves you.

"Are you having fun, princess?" he questions, his voice softer than it had been before.

You're not, but you know Rafe is enjoying himself and wants to stay and hang out. So, you take a deep breath and nod your head, giving him a convincing smile. Rafe smiles back and strokes his fingers against your cheek, then brings his hand down to your neck to pull you closer to him. He uses his nose to move your hair away from your ear so he can talk into it.

"I can't wait to get inside of you later, sweetheart," he whispers, feeling you instantly start to squirm against his lap.

His dirty talk always gets to you. The way his voice gets all raspy and needy just does things to your body that no other guy ever could.

"Is that right?" you tease him, bringing your lips dangerously close to him.

"Mhm," he hums against your lips, then closes the gap between the two of you.

He loves when you play with his hair, so you do. You can feel him getting excited underneath you, so you continue. One of his hands wraps around your throat and the other goes down to your ass, making you moan.

"Yo, Rafe, get a fucking room, man," Topper groans.

Rafe smirks against your lips and pulls away, gently setting you down beside him again. You try not to be mad that Topper interrupted the first ounce of attention your boyfriend has shown you tonight. Rafe leans forward to cut another line, so you stand and look around for a bathroom. When he doesn't notice you get up, you decide to just run really quick to one and then come back.

You walk from the living room into a kitchen, then see a little hallway that looks like it probably contains a bathroom. Once you get down the dimly lit hallway, you feel a hand on your arm, roughly yanking you around.

"What the fuck are you doing going off on your own?" Rafe snaps at you, his grip on your arm tightening. You can feel his nails digging into your flesh, making you wince.

"Rafe, you're hurting me," you tell him softly, gently trying to move your arm out of his grasp.

"You need to tell me when you have to go to the bathroom," he says harshly, then releases our arm.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at the floor. He brings his hand up and grabs your cheek, pulling your head up to look at him.

"C'mon," he tells you, "I'll take you."

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway and stopping at a random door. There's one guy waiting outside of it, who Rafe pats on the back once the two of you approach.

"Find another one," Rafe tells him.

The guy turns around and looks at Rafe like he's crazy, his eyes glancing over to you for a second. Protectively, Rafe's grip tightens around your hand.

"Dude, I've been waiting for a while. The line was long when I got here," the guy tells him, watching Rafe sarcastically smile.

"Interesting story, bro. Move along. Now," Rafe's voice is harsh.

The guy rolls his eyes and pushes past the two of you, deciding he doesn't have to go bad enough to put up with Rafe being an asshole. Rafe moves in front of the door, pulling you with him, and bangs on the door.

"Time's up," he yells, continuing to pound on the door.

The door opens up a second later, the guy Rafe had removed from the living room with his eyes earlier stepping out. Of course, you think.

"Ah, if it isn't the guy who likes to stare at my girl," Rafe grins devilishly.

"Rafe-" you start, wanting to tell him to let it go.

"Go inside, baby. I'll be right here when you're done."

He drags his hand toward the door, which in turn drags you toward the door. He lets go as soon as you're in the bathroom, then leans in and shuts the door for you. You can hear Rafe sizing up that poor guy outside, but you choose not to listen. You use the bathroom and then wash your hands quickly, trying your best to hurry so you can save that guy.

When you pull the door open again, Rafe is leaning against the doorframe with his phone in his hand. He looks up at you when you come out and doesn't speak, he just wraps his arm around your waist and leads you away, still looking at his phone.

When you get into the kitchen, Rafe suddenly pushes you up against the wall with no warning. He leans forward and grabs onto your cheeks, bringing his mouth up to yours roughly and kissing you. He quickly picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist, keeping you pinned up against the wall. You kiss him back, loving the way his hands feel all over your body. If you're honest, you're growing impatient for the night to end. You really just want Rafe to take you home and fuck you.

Rafe pulls away after a few minutes, gently setting you back down on the floor and taking his hand in yours again.

"You're mine, don't you forget it," he tells you, his voice demanding. You nod and reach up to wipe your lip, which seems to be covered in Rafe's saliva.

You watch Rafe's gaze as it lingers around the guy from the bathroom, who had just seen Rafe's explosive display of affection. You sigh, knowing that entire thing was just a way of Rafe to mark his territory.

"We're gonna go get Topper's keys," Rafe tells you, "I can't wait any longer. I need you, right now."

You give Rafe a real smile this time and nod your head, following him as he leads you through the crowd. After promising Topper you two wouldn't fuck in his Jeep, he hands Rafe his keys so you two can leave. Rafe tightens his grip around your hand as he pulls you back to the kitchen. He purposely walks past that guy again, muttering something in his ear as you two pass that you can't hear. When you look back, the guy looks disgusted.

When you two get back to Topper's Jeep, you're surprised when Rafe opens up the back door for you to get in.

"Why am I getting in the back?" you ask him.

He smirks, "We're getting in the back."

You look at the devious look on his face and figure out what he's up to, so you raise your eyebrow at him.

"You promised Topper we wouldn't fuck in his Jeep," you remind him.

Rafe rolls his eyes, "Yeah, and last month Topper promised me he wouldn't bend my nine iron when he beat up that Pogue on the golf course with my club. Trust me, baby. He owes me."

You sigh but do as you're told, watching Rafe's smirk only grow when you climb inside. No matter what that boy puts you through at these parties, the sex always makes up for it.

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy and jack

requested: yes/no

pairing: platonic jack/tommy/reader

summary: jack and tommy convince y/n to leave the house

content warning: cursing

an: wrote way more than i intended to

from the moment you woke up your day was already chaotic, you checked your phone to see several missed calls and texts from tommy. still half asleep you decided to finally answer the call

“the fuck did you wake me up for?”

“I'm outside your house please let me in. Some old man keeps telling me to get into his car, gotta go be quick!”

“TOMMY DON'T YOU DARE GET INTO HIS CAR!”

as soon as you opened to door you were met by your two friends wheezing

“you should have seen your face y/n you looked so worried!”

“you little shits don’t do that again,” you said, scolding the two boys who were now crying with laughter.

the car ride was just as chaotic.

you were screaming at all the cars that were ‘going too slow’ and yelling at jack how to drive, despite the fact you don’t know how to drive.

tommy kept putting his hand close to the steering wheel in an attempt to honk the horn.

“CARPOOL KARAOKE- AAAAAA..OH THE FEDS!”

“FUCK THE POLICE!”

“tommy, y/n, we are going to get arrested.”

the journey was then silent for a few minutes until your new boyfriend could be heard from your phone.

“here we go lads!”

it was a miracle you all survived the car journey, especially since tommy found it hilarious to put his phone in front of jacks face as he was driving.

“oh shit..were at tesco’s?”

you must have zoned out during the car ride because the sound of tommy, finally being allowed to honk the horn, pulled you back to reality.

the three of you debated filming your day together, but ended up deciding against it, wanting to spend time together, especially since you had been busy going to college 5 days a week.

everything was going well until an announcement from customer service echoed,

“good evening ladies and gentlemen, we have a teenager here named y/n l/n looking for their father and older brother, if you are them please come and collect them from the customer service desk.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how embarrassed tommy and jack were as they came to customer service.

“you must be their...parent??”

“no no no no they’re our friend. they must have wandered off and then got lost it’s their first time visiting this tesco.” it was around 1pm when you finally left tesco, but the adventure wasn’t over yet.

the car ride back was another adventure, tommy spent most of the ride talking about how he found donuts for £3, and how jack squashed them by throwing biscuits at them. it was only when you realised you were going in the wrong direction to go home you spoke up.

“you’re going the wrong fucking way, home is in the other direction.”

“i’m not taking you home, we’re going to a lake!”

“YOU’RE KIDNAPPING ME?!”

“no we’re going fishing.”

“oh-”

“this isn’t a lake?”

“it’s a fishing shop!”

as the three of you walked in, tommy instinctively put an arm around you, keeping you close as the shop was rather busy, and you were already questioning exploring the shop on your own.

“there is no customer service here and i'm not running around here trying to find you. if you run off- OH LOOK SUNGLASSES LETS GET MATCHING ONES!”

you raced tommy back to the car, “HA DIBS ON FRONT SEAT!”

“BUT Y/N I WAS THERE FIRST!”

“sucks to be tommyinnit i guess!”

time went by quickly, you were almost there. you spent the entire time bickering with jack about how you could drive better than him and how the road was too bumpy.

the sound of tommy yelling the word pheasant caught you off guard, causing you to flinch.

“could have had it...”

“WHY WOULD YOU KILL IT MANIFOLD?!”

“he’s nicked the spot.”

“rival fisher?”

you suggested screaming till he left, tommy loved that idea however jack wasn’t too sure it was a good idea.

“let’s run him into the lake with your car!“

“let’s do it!”

you covered your face with your hands hiding the fact you were crying with laughter, they would never tell you this but they loved and missed seeing you this happy. they hadn’t seen you in a while due to the fact you were busy with college, and the times they did see you it was clear you hadn’t been sleeping much and that you were incredibly stressed.

you and tommy went around hunting for sticks to throw into the lake. after a while you chose to sit on the grass watching the pair fish. you were just happy to be out spending time with your best friends, then you heard a train pass and were determined to find it. as you walked away, you heard tommy laugh at jack who was complaining about how he stole his wrap, and was trying to feed ducks sweet corn.

“where did y/n go?”

“i’ll go find them.”

tommy ended up asking strangers if they had noticed you pass by, luckily someone pointed out that you went straight on and was mumbling something about a train.

“can i get a ticket to go on the train please?”

tommy couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“make it two tickets. I also want to go on the train.”

as soon as you both paid and were handed the tickets you grabbed tommys hand, draging him away before he could ask questions about you wandering off.

jack sat fishing on his own, arguing with ducks till his phone rang.

“IM ON A TRAIN WITH TOMMY BE BACK SOON- I THINK I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT GOES, MISSING YOU ALREADY!”

before he even got the chance to speak you hung up laughing.

“what the hell where are we?”

“it’s train time tommy!”

after a few minutes you realised this was going to be a long journey.

“this fucking train is going 1 mille an hour bloody hell.”

you placed you head on your friends shoulder, it had been a long day and you were exhausted.

“oh fuckkkk i have work to do when i get home.”

tommy felt awful for you, noticing you were stressed and starting to get upset, he pulled you in for a hug. the pair of you stayed in the position talking about anything and everything until the train came to a stop.

“let’s go brag about our journey to jack!”

“he’s going to kill us.”

“worth it.”

It was a long day but you were thankful your two closest friends decided to make you leave the house and spend time with them. a few days later you had your exams, then a few weeks later you got your results and couldn’t wait to message the gc.

yn : I PASSED BOYS!!!

tommy: I knew it!!

jack: nice one!

tubbo: does this mean we can go on an adventure?? I couldn't go last time.

yn: yes.

[fett-djarin]

Stress Relief

Here it is! This is entirely self indulgent and filthy! Im a wh*re for the croissant guards

Also I headcanon Fox looking like how amikoroyoaiart draws him. her art is so good!

Commander Fox x f!reader

Crossposted on ao3

Rating: 18+

Length: 3.9k

Warnings/Tags: Oral (m receiving), that good sloppy toppy, office sex, cursing, light grinding, making out

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Bringing the Guard their morning caf had become a tradition, of sorts. You knew the caf in the mess wasn’t good--in fact, it was barely even palatable. When you first started as a new secretary, it had been your timid way of offering friendship to the imposing troopers who worked so hard to keep the planet safe. They warmed to you quickly. Thire was the first to remove his helmet in front of you, plonking it down on your desk and taking a long pull of caf barely a second after you handed it to him. At your stunned look, he had just raised a brow and said, “Long patrol last night,” with a shrug.

As the others had become more comfortable with you, you had seen most of them without their buckets at some point--except for Fox. He always took his caf with a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” and retreated to his office. You knew it was against regulation for them to remove their helmets while they were on duty. But even when you dropped off the caf in his office, he was at his desk with his helmet on.

“He keeps it on so you can’t tell if he’s actually asleep,” Thorn told you one day. “I suspect he even does it while we’re standing guard sometimes.” You laughed aloud at that. The serious Commander Fox, asleep standing up. He was right though, you never would be able to tell.

The first time Fox removed his helmet in front of you, you hadn’t expected the gray dusting his temples, but honestly you weren’t surprised. The poor man was stressed beyond belief and worked half to death. You were more surprised that he finally did it in the first place. Fox sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls, before taking the caf and giving you a tired smile. He thanked you by name that time. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

From then on, he had been without it more when you went into his office. You even caught him sleeping once--head resting on his folded arms, bucket set next to him--and had done your best to deliver the caf without waking him. Maker knew he needed the sleep more than he needed hot caf--if Thorn hadn’t told you he snuck naps with the helmet on, you would think he ran off caf and stubborn will alone.

One morning, after you had passed out caf to the others--and a little cup of whipped cream for Grizzer--Fox hadn’t made an appearance, so you made your way to his office to drop it off. You knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” his gruff voice called, and the door slid aside. You smiled at him, noting the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at seeing it was just you. You set the cup down on his desk. You had just turned when a touch on your wrist stopped you.

Fox was looking up at you, helmet cocked to the side. “You know you don’t have to bring us caf every time you work, right? The boys better not be nagging you for it.”

“I know,” you said. “I enjoy doing it. And it’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

“You all work so hard. You deserve more, even if it’s just better caf.”

He squeezed your wrist gently. “You don’t owe us anything. It is our duty to the Republic--”

“I know, Fox,” you tried to hide your grin, and failed. “But you’re also my friends.”

That seemed to surprise him, hand falling from your wrist as he sat back in his chair and regarded you curiously. You made your way back to the door, pausing in the entryway and looking back over your shoulder.

“Have a good morning, Commander.”

“...You as well, ma’am.”

The door slid shut behind you. Fox slipped his helmet off, setting it on his desk and staring hard at the door you had disappeared through. His eyes flicked to the paper cup of steaming caf, brows furrowed.

It was the first time you had called him by his name.

Friends?

----

After that day, Fox seemed to be trying to talk to you more. Instead of taking his caf and running off, he would stay, either to chat or just hang around for a minute with you and the other Guards. Stone nudged Thire, who nudged Thorn, and they all looked over to where Fox leaned his hip casually against your desk and you were laughing at something he said.

“Did someone replace Fox while we weren’t looking?” Thire questioned under his breath.

“I’ve never seen him so...cheery,” Stone said.

You smiled up at Fox, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. They watched as your fingers grazed the back of his hand where it rested on your desk. “Think something’s goin’ on between those two?” Thorn asked, gesturing vaguely over towards you and Fox with his cup.

“Absolutely.” Thire didn’t hesitate to answer.

The three quickly snapped to attention as Fox excused himself, heading their direction. You gave them a small wave. Thorn was about to wave back before Thire thumped him in the arm.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Fox grumbled as he passed them, heading to his office. “Get to it.” You hid your laugh behind your hand seeing the three Commanders scramble to disperse.

Evening rolled around, and you cocked your head side to side, stretching your neck and shoulders. You had been going over forms all day, datapad after datapad, organizing reports and requests for the Chancellor and the Senate. Your shift was almost over, and you were getting ready to go home for the night.

Various members of the Guard had come and gone, leaving and returning from patrols. Senators and representatives had filtered through; less and less as the evening progressed. You were just getting ready to leave when Fox stalked through, back from his rounds, tense and practically vibrating with irritation. He didn't even spare you a glance as he disappeared into his office. If the doors weren't automatic, he likely would have slammed it shut.

You knew he had a thankless job--a job he had no say in having, either. Usually it was something to do with the Chancellor that got him so worked up. Half the time you thought Fox would strangle the man himself if he could. Maybe you should take Fox out to one of the cafes nearby, just for a second to breathe and not carry the weight of the Guard on his shoulders. Was that against regulation? It might be better to invite him back to your apartment. Or did that imply too much?

You pushed yourself up from your chair, mind made up. He could always say no. You wouldn’t be offended.

You paused outside the door to his office, listening carefully. You couldn’t hear anything from the other side. So, you knocked.

“What.” Fox’s biting tone surprised you, but you didn’t take it personally.

“Commander? I...It’s me,” you said hesitantly, and then wanted to smack yourself. Confidence. “Is everything alright?”

No response. You took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. You didn’t want to impose if he needed time to himself. The door slid open just as you had stepped back, intending to leave. Fox sighed, jerking his head to direct you inside.

The door shut behind you, and Fox sat heavily in his chair at the desk. Another deep sigh, and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his helmet off, setting it aside, and you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes before he put his head in his hands.

“Commander Fox?” You took a tentative step forward, so you were close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He looked up at you. There was still tension lining his shoulders, hands flexing into fists and then relaxing. Stress. He opened his mouth to say something, frowned, and then closed it again. He cleared his throat. “Did you need something?” You could tell he was making an effort to soften his voice, likely as to not snap at you again.

“I just wanted to check in, sir,” you said, coming around the desk to stand next to him, leaning your weight against it. “It looked like something was bothering you.”

He waved his hand in the air vaguely, brows pinched. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you’re not one of my men.” He looked like he was debating saying more, so you waited patiently, quietly, hoping he recognized that you were here to listen if he so needed.

“As you likely know, there’s a gala coming up. Senators, politicians, ambassadors, Jedi….” Fox huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. And the Chancellor,” he spat, venom in his voice, “has been on my case about patrols and the Guard. Always demanding more. We’re spread too thin, and not getting the support we need--” he cut himself off. He was getting himself worked up again.

You placed your hand over his where it was clenched into a fist on the desk. It relaxed under your touch. Fox heaved another sigh mixed with a groan. “I’m behind on paperwork too,” he glared at the stack of datapads sitting to the side. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to find the time to do everything.”

“Hmm,” you reached over and picked up one of the datapads, skimming through it, hopping up so you were now sitting on the desk. It was just a patrol report that needed Fox’s signature before being filed. “What’s your CC number?”

“CC-1010,” he answered instantly, then regarded you with suspicion. “Why?”

You signed the bottom of the form: CC-1010, “Fox,” and submitted it.

“What are you doing?” his voice seemed to have kicked up an octave.

“Helping you with your work. I deal with paperwork and holoforms all the time,” you said, picking up another datapad and scanning through the information. “Most of the time it’s to make sure there’s a document trail. Most of these probably don’t need an in-depth review, they’re not important. They just go in the archives and are never looked at again.”

“I--you--that’s illegal,” he sputtered. But he seemed more surprised than serious.

You raised a brow at him, signing his designation and name once again before submitting the next form. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate. Interesting. Then he had a thought. “Your handwriting doesn’t even look like mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” you showed him where you had signed. It was almost identical to his scrawling script. His eyes flicked between the form and your face, incredulity on his features.

“How…?”

You shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been good at. Saved me a lot of trouble as a kid when I needed my parents to sign for something at school. Especially when it was a disciplinary note.” Fox barked a disbelieving laugh at that and you couldn’t help your sly smile. “Even if I didn’t mimic your signature, no one would notice. Or care. You could mark the lines with an X and it would go through; it’s only the acknowledgement they care about. You can even draw a loth-cat face and have that be in the archive forever as a signature.”

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened with a chuckle. “Some of these aren’t just patrol reports though. I actually have to read through the more important ones.”

You handed him a holopad as you picked up your third. “How’s this: we work on these together; if I find one that has important information or requires more than a signature, I’ll give it to you.”

He regarded you for a long moment, debating your offer. Some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders; he looked less tense, less overwhelmed, even less exhausted. Then he slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “But you have to let me buy you coffee for once.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“We’re friends. Right?”

That stopped you short. You did consider him and the other guards friends, but to hear him say that he also considered you one...it was nice. It made a pleasant warmth flutter in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your shy smile at his words. “Right,” you agreed. The soft upturn of his lips made your breath hitch. He looked so young when he smiled.

The two of you worked in companionable silence, steadily making your way through the stack of datapads. You had been correct--most of them were unimportant; standard reports and forms that required a signature purely for protocol. Every once in a while you handed one over to Fox for him to read through. Slowly, your free hands had crept together, and Fox hoped to the Maker that you didn’t notice how warm his cheeks had gotten. 

Your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, and he didn’t notice he was staring at the way your fingers moved rather than reading through the form you handed him until you cleared your throat. “Fox?” you asked quietly. His gaze landed on your lips. He wanted you to keep saying his name, he wanted to hear it again and again--

You brushed a stray curl back from his forehead. A tug on your arm had you stumbling forward off-balance, and you would have fallen if strong arms had not wrapped around you and pulled you into an armored chest. Heat rushed to your face at the new position you found yourself in: sat in Fox’s lap, his hand still entwined with yours.

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle, soft. His lips pressed to yours chastely, far more gently than you expected him to be, and you felt the datapad fall from your hand. The sharp clatter of it hitting the ground made Fox pull back, but then you grasped the back of his neck, twining your fingers in his curls, and pulled him back to your mouth. He tossed his own back on the desk with a groan as your lips met again.

You licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for you. Fox was content to let you lead. His hand gripped your hip, and he sighed into your kisses, melting from your affection. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that--tasting, breathing each other in, sharing languid kisses full of pent-up desire.

His wild curls were soft in your fingers, and he all but purred when you lightly scratched your nails along his scalp. The hard plastoid of his thigh plates was uncomfortable underneath you, and you shifted your hips slightly in an effort to find a more comfortable spot. The breath hissed out through Fox's teeth, and your face flushed with warmth realizing you had brushed against his codpiece. His fingers tightened on your hip and thigh, pulling you towards him, encouraging your hips to roll against him again.

It was an awkward angle, with you sitting with your legs thrown over his lap, but from the hitch in Fox’s breathing it was doing something for him. You hummed into his mouth before pushing yourself up, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you swung one leg over so you were now straddling him, chest to chest.

“Better?” he rumbled, nipping your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. You squeaked as his palms cupped and squeezed your ass, tugging you closer. Both of you basked in each other's eager little breaths and soft noises, hungry and wanting for more.

"Mhmm." The new position allowed you to feel the firmness of Fox's codpiece against your center when you pressed your hips into his. Fox really appreciated the new position, with your tits against his chest and free access to grope your ass. He almost whined into your mouth at the steady slow grind you started against him.

You wanted to hear that noise again. An idea struck you. You wanted to taste him. One more deep kiss, then you shimmied back off his lap. Fox made a noise of protest and tried to pull you back to him, but you just grinned and shooed his hands away. The floor was cold on your knees as you settled between his spread legs.

“What are you--oh,” he cut off with a harsh breath as your deft fingers unclasped his codpiece and tossed it away. Immediately, your palm cupped the warm bulge at the front of his blacks. He shifted in his seat, and you noticed his cheeks and ears had flushed a shade darker. How cute.

“Commander,” you purred, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Y-yes, cyare?” His hands flexed at the arms of his chair. He was struggling to not reach out and pull you back on his lap. Normally so composed, Fox now looked wrecked with his lips slightly parted, kiss-swollen, and hair mussed.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

Fox spluttered and fumbled at your bluntness. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still slowly stroking him over his blacks. You could see him fighting with himself. Maker, he wanted it. He wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his length. But he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to--he also desperately wanted to pleasure you.

“Please?” you leaned forward and mouthed at his clothed erection, letting your spit soak the fabric. Your eyes locked with his, looking up at him with your best faux-innocent look, like you had no idea what you were doing to him. But Maker, you were hungry. You wanted him.

“Fuck,” the word sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the rich brown of his irises. “Fuck, yes--”

You wasted no time in tugging the band of his blacks down. A shiver worked its way through him; seeing you on your knees in front of him was a dream--a dirty little fantasy he would never admit to. Many nights alone in his quarters or in the showers he had roughly fisted his cock to the thought of you in situations that were most definitely unprofessional, biting the back of his hand to keep his noises at bay. And now here you were, the sweet secretary, making his dreams become reality.

The sliver of warm skin revealed to you made you instantly want more, and you couldn’t stop from pressing a light kiss to his hip. Then you eased his leaking cock from his blacks. Fox hissed in a breath through his teeth as your hand loosely wrapped around him, pumping his length slowly. The precum that dribbled from the tip slicked your grip. He was thick and firm in your hand, like velvet-wrapped durasteel.

The first stroke of your tongue against his cock made him curse. You licked slowly, working your way from tip to base and back, tracing the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you tasted the salty tang of the precum that leaked from him. When you hummed around him, his hand shot to your hair, fingers winding through the strands. He didn’t push you down or pull you away; instead, he merely just...held on.

Fox’s breathing kicked up watching you worship his cock with your tongue and hands. You enjoyed watching him try to hold himself together, slowly making him fall apart piece by piece. Your head bobbed up and down his length, each time taking more of him. Your hand continued to pump and work the rest you hadn’t fit in your mouth. He breathed out a string of words in a language you didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like he was praising you.

All his little noises were making the heat coil in your core. Wetness pooled between your legs, and you clenched your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief. You closed your eyes to concentrate, focusing on the weight of his cock on your tongue, the heat of his body. You slowly took more of him in your mouth until you felt his tip bump the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose. Fighting off your gag reflex, you swallowed around him.

“Shit! Shit, mesh’la--” Fox cried out above you, feeling your throat constrict around his length. He tugged gently on your hair, and you pulled off him with a gasp. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” It was meant to be a warning, but he sounded too breathless for it to carry any weight.

“But Commander,” you looked up at him, enveloping the tip of his cock in the heat of your mouth and gently sucking. His thighs twitched under your hands, cock throbbing, and you pulled off with an obscene pop. “That’s the best part.”

You were messy, letting saliva drip from your mouth and down his cock. You sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of his length until it was sopping. When you ducked down to take his balls in your mouth, his breath hitched, hand tightening in your hair, and a low moan came from him.

“Gedet’ye, mesh’la, gedet’ye--” Fox choked out.

“Hm?” You pulled back, hand wrapped around his cock and continued to pump him tightly. You twisted your wrist when your hand brushed over his head. He was panting lightly, and looked deliciously wrecked.

“Gedet’ye,” he said again, “please.”

You smiled at him, and he felt his heart jump. You looked filthy, lipstick--Coruscant guard red?--smeared, lips and chin wet with spit. “I want you to cum in my mouth, Fox.” Then you brought your mouth back to his cock and sucked, laving your tongue over the sensitive head as one hand stroked the base. The other came up to cradle his balls, and he was done for.

Fox cursed up a storm in both Basic and Mando’a, nearly doubling over as his orgasm was wrenched out of him by your clever mouth. You kept your gaze connected with his, eyes hazy and half-lidded. Warm spurts of his release filled your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down, milking his cock until he had nothing left. Subtly, you rubbed your thighs together, so turned on it nearly hurt. Seeing Fox fall apart for you stoked the fire of arousal in your core.

He had an arm thrown over his eyes as he slumped in his chair, chest heaving for breath. “Stars above, you’re going to kill me,” he said. You giggled, hands running soothing motions over his thigh plates, even though he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid. He looked boneless and sated, which was exactly your intention--well, part of your intention.

Then he was guiding you back up, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard. It was desperate, deep, filled with so much emotion that you couldn’t decipher it, you only knew that you felt the same. You moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, and you noticed the glint in his eye and his sly grin before he kissed you again, standing and guiding you back to sit on his desk.

“Now it’s my turn.”

[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

LINKS:

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[lolita-lollipop]

Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”

your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.

it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.

on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.

eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.

you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.

so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.

And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.

But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.

Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn’t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.

This is one of those times.

Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.

Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.

His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.

“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.

“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.

“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.

“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.

“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.

Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.

The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.

Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.

“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.

Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.

“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.

“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.

“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.

Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)

I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)

Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!

[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!

[sagemoderocklee]

What tips do you have for writers that want to write a gaalee fic, like tips and tricks to avoid making the dynamic ooc

oof it's been a long time since i've had a question like this so this may take me a minute to collect my thoughts. first i'll direct you to a few different things i've answered over the years that might help. these are older posts of mine but i think they still hold up well:

i think you've seen this post already but i might as well share it again since it's specifically about ooc things.

here's my old tiger/dragon imagery write up

here's one on gaara and empathy

here's one on rock lee's mental health (tw for discussions of self-harm, suicidal ideation) I do think with this particular write up, I wish I'd focused more on the issue of anger more. I think one thing that gets overlooked with Lee is anger and resentment, which i think are feelings he works hard to keep bottled up--and then they come out when he's drunk. but as someone who was ostracized and bullied, i think lee has like deep, deep repressed wells of anger and resentment that he doesn't want to acknowledge or deal with.

so, all those links aside, i think this is a really, really broad question. if you have any like more specific questions after this please feel free to ask. im probably just gonna ramble because im extremely tired because of my health, but i don't wanna leave this sitting in my inbox for a million years.

there are certain things that make these characters who they are, of course, but i think there's also context--like i had an ask... god i don't even know how many years ago about this sort of thing. forget exactly what it was but i rambled about gaara being the kazekage, and like generally speaking i think it would be out of character for gaara to like give that up... but contextually i could see him doing that. like stepping down when he's old is a different thing than like outright abdicating, and like i have ideas for fics following that but it's... definitely a very difficult thing to execute. like if you were to be like yeah gaara's gonna give up being kazekage to be with lee i would probably not read that fic. maybe you could write it well, but i don't really buy gaara doing something like that. if he were to give up being kazekage for like political reasons, that i could dig. but he's not giving it up for rock lee.

but again, speaking in absolutes is difficult because i think sometimes you can bend the rules and make it work. it just really depends on the story you're writing and how you execute it.

my biggest thing with writing any pairing centered fic--regardless of the pairing--is making sure that you don't get lost in the pairing. i want the two individuals involved to still be recognizable and to have enough driving force on the plot. like they need to be more than just a couple. and i think when you get down to it, if you don't want their interactions/relationship to be OOC then you have to know the characters individually.

how does gaara respond to people in general? how does he respond to his family vs his friends? how does he respond to lee vs anyone else? and why does he respond that way?

and the answer to these questions may change from fic to fic, depending on the context of the fic. For Absolution, Gaara and Lee are not friends so much as (once) friendly acquaintances--like they respect each other, but they were not truly friends prior to the events of Absolution. That was a necessary thing for the story. But in The Art of Love, they've been friends for years and years, because that was necessary for the plot.

So how Gaara responds to Lee changes between these two fics. But the important thing is it's still Rock Lee that he's responding to. i dunno if that makes sense, but it's like whether or not he's close to Lee prior to the events of the story you write, he is responding to Lee not a stranger--who is Rock Lee in Gaara's mind? Because that informs how he reacts to Lee.

if i were to like pick a few ooc things i'd say:

inequality/power imbalance in their relationship. There already exists an imbalance of power within their professional dynamic--Gaara is a Kage, Lee is a Chuunin/Jounin (depending). This is something that exists, whether they want it or not, so when it comes to the romantic aspect of their relationship, they need to be on equal footing. And Lee especially needs to feel he's equal to Gaara, if not by position in skill/strength. He needs to feel acknowledged and respected as a shinobi.

never acknowledging their past. the relationship simply cannot be all sunshine and roses. blood has been spilled between them, gaara sought to kill lee. sometimes things have to be hard, complicated, and even a lil ugly. maybe a lil mean. it's not healthy to never talk about difficult topics, and it would be OOC imo if gaara didn't express guilt and remorse for the pain he caused Lee. im not saying it has to be a big part of your fic, im not saying it even has to occur on screen within the fic, but it needs to have happened at some point in time. (this obviously applies mostly to canon, unless you're like transposing some aspect of the gaalee fight into an AU)

gaara and lee are both opposites attract, and two halves of a whole. in the above link where i talk about the tiger/dragon imagery, it's important to look at how that functions as a yin/yang dynamic and what that means. i think at the end of the day, their differences are more often than not superficial and products of their upbringing. Lee is loud, Gaara is quiet--but the are both kind and warm, for instance. they value the same things, even if they express themselves differently. they are more balancing than opposing forces. a lot of ppl use sun/moon for ship dynamics, which i think is great, but i don't think that suits lee and gaara, so much. sun/earth; wind/fire--those are definitely good elemental comparisons for them. but i think it's just really important to grasp that while Lee and Gaara are two very different people, they are at their cores very similar in a lot of ways too, and they ultimately create balance within each other.

anyways, i babbled a lot and i hope that all makes sense and helps. again im happy to answer more questions always!

and like i do think whenever you approach writing fanfiction, you wanna start with what you know about the characters and their relationship as its established in canon. you have to have your building blocks. once you have those building blocks then you can add onto the characters, and then you can build their relationship. play around with it and don't be afraid to make mistakes.

[cynettic]

Hello, can I request a reaction with childe, albedo, xiao and diluc where their SO is pretty clumsy and one day, they (the characters) just snap and say mean things? Please end it with comfort or something nice, my heart isnt strong enough to handle full angst :')

Clumsy S/O x Genshin

Summary - As someone clumsy, the genshin boys often pay special attention to your little accidents and mishaps. One day they snap, comforting ending though ;-;

Pairings - ClumsyReader x Childe / Albedo / Xiao / Diluc

Warnings - A bit of possessive behaviour for Xiao- but otherwise, a tad bit of angst at the beginning of each one.

A/N - After I wrote Albedo’s hc I realized that seeing him angry… would be really hot. Might write up a degradation one after-

Childe

“Stop it! It’s not funny anymore!”

It wasn’t surprising that once again, you’d managed to trip on your own feet and now somehow the vase sitting on the stool next to the couch had fallen… and broke.

But it was the first time you’d heard those words come from him.

“What do you mean… stop?”

Childe had never said anything about your clumsy antics, always picking you up and laughing or teasing the situation off. On the occasion that you got hurt, he’d tend to your wounds and make you promise to be more careful. Of course there was always a next time, and next time, and text time…

Until Childe had enough.

“From falling- tripping over your feet and taking down everything with you! No one tumbles around this much… so either you’re just doing this for fun or- or…”

He began to realize after those words that he’d taken it too far. When glancing at your teary eyes and how your figure started to shake he knew he couldn’t take those words back.

He knew it wasn’t your fault, he knew you tried to be as careful as you could.

But it was so frustrating.

You were still laying on the ground from the fall, and he bent down to help you up. You didn’t look him in the eyes, and an empty feeling buried itself in his stomach when you stood up.

“I’m… sorry.”

It was you who spoke these words, shoulders still shaking. You knew it might’ve been frustrating or annoying for Childe.

The two of you are just standing there, Childe feeling ten times guiltier because you apologized, and you feeling terrible because you’d broken another vase and he’d yelled at you for it.

The two of you feel so bad about it- ;-;

It isn’t till Childe acts out and pulls you into a hug that you realize he felt bad for yelling at you. Sure he may have been frustrated, but it was only cause he was worried about your well being, he didnt want you getting hurt.

“Im sorry Y/n… I didn’t mean to act out like that. I know you're trying your best.”

Albedo

“What happened.”

It was supposed to come out as a question, his eyes trailing over the mess of his lab and the sorry pitiful state it was in.

It didn’t come out sounding like a question.

Seeing Albedo angry of all things was only a myth among the knights of Favonius, a joke to Klee, and a topic never brought up to the citizens of Monstadt.

Albedo? Mad?? Impossible.

Well, you were living proof that it indeed wasnt a myth to see the alchemist angry.

“I fell…” was all you said in response to his glare. “I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped against the table… I’m sorry…”

Of course you were sorry, just waiting for Albedo to get home and maybe scanning the lab and all his experiments while he was away. No bad intentions, but unfortunately your bad habit of tripping over your own feet summoned itself at the worst moments.

Usually, Albedo would catch you with utmost ease. A reflex he’d learned from Klee before she went sprinting out to cause more of a ruckus. If you were to get hurt, he’d usher or carry you back into his house before patching you up. It was always quick and painless, but he made you repeat why you’d fell and how to avoid it.

Albedo wouldn’t be comforting you now.

“You fell?” He simply asked, his tone menacing enough to know that it was something important in that jumble of experiments. “You seem to do that a lot nowadays don’t you?”

You’re at a loss for words, “I’ll help you clean it up… I didn’t mean to-”

Not wanting to mention how the glass shards had cut your hand, you stood up with wobbly knees to start picking up the pieces of glass. You were sure your boyfriend had put a lot of work towards this, and you felt terrible for having ruined it all.

Albedo isn’t a savage tho.

He notices the cut on your palm, and your shaky figure as you begin to clean up the mess you’d made. He knows that cleaning up the lab as soon as possible is important, but you’re still his top priority.

“Come here.”

When you don’t immediately go to him, he walks to you. Taking your wrists and getting a good view of the injury. He tugs you to the doorway to get you fixed up, and realizes that you’re shaking, a little bit too much…

“It… seems I was a bit too harsh earlier.” He fully faces you, expression softening. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t mean to, none of the items on the table were of any importance if it makes you feel better.”

Please let him wipe any stray tears if you do cry, he didn’t mean to sound so angry, and really doesn’t care too much about what was on that table. Poor man’s just had a tough day at work.

Xiao

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

Xiao is protective.

That fact is known, its accepted, you might even find it endearing.

But Xiao has lived a much longer life than you, he’s seen the people he loves crumple and drain away. Watched them fade from his life one at a time, so he’s dedicated to making sure you stick around.

He knows that eternity isn’t an option for you, so he makes sure that the time you both have together is s a f e . Which means yes, he will catch you every single time you fall. Especially if it’s off the Wangshu stairs that you somehow always trip on?

The poor boy worries excessively for you, so much that he will try to hurry up the process of clearing out the normal hilichurls or threats that lie around Liyue Port.

But on the very rare occasion that you somehow end up into trouble without him there…

You don’t yell “Xiao” like he told you to, you know he makes such an effort on making you safe, a bit too much… you don’t want to summon him to every trouble you have. You’re independent, one scrape isn’t going to kill you.

“I’m fine,” you simply say when he comes back to find your whole hand encompassed in bandages. “Just tripped.”

Xiao is not impressed.

He worries too much, far too much, and seeing you brush it off when he tries so hard to make sure you’re never in pain- he wishes you’d just sit still, wait for him and not trip on your own feet when doing such mundane things.

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

You’re obviously taken aback by the statement, “Xiao?” You offer him a comforting hug, trying to loosen his stiff muscles. “It’s impossible from protecting me from everything y’know… I appreciate your worry but I’m fine.”

But that’s a matter that is strained between the two of you, and will continue to be that way until either Xiao somehow lets go of his protective anxious faze, or you just accept it.

Either way, the boy will continue to catch you when you fall. Even if you broke apart from him, left him, you’d still occasionally feel the lightest touch when you trip over your feet and feel yourself steadied.

Diluc

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Just like Xiao, Diluc is fairly protective over you, especially if it concerns your health.

He’s often not quick enough to catch you, but instead picks you up in his arms and sits you on the table to make sure you’re not hurt.

You often get bruises, but nothing more serious. He makes sure to kiss them better- something you jokingly stated once, and he’s actually taken it seriously.

“Kissing it will make it feel better? You’re sure?”

Overall, Diluc was very understanding to your clumsy antics. Maybe even find it endearing on a hard day of work, either way, he’d never yell at you for it.

Until he had enough.

It’s exhausting, to hear something clatter and know that you’d probably tripped. Tripped and harmed yourself in one way or another, the options were infinite, and Diluc’s anxiety could heighten at the slightest crashing noise.

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Eventually it became too much and he asked you that exact question, hands tangling through his hair as he stared at you wide eyed, furious. There you were on the floor, just a single chair knocked down as you were beginning to shakily stand back up.

“No… of course not. I wouldn’t do these things for fun-“

It’s not like you enjoyed absentmindedly stumbling into objects, it just… happened. Diluc was usually so patient and understanding… so why?

“I know… it’s just...” he rubbed the temples on either side of his face with his thumbs, frown set in a line. “I keep worrying and worrying- every time I hear a noise like that…”

It doesn’t take long for him to sort this out through a conversation, and then settle that you need to be more mindful and careful, something you have to improve on. He will simply watch on the sidelines, catch you when he can, and coax you when you end up hurt.